T Lain - Return of the Damned

At first, Regdar thought the creature’s eyes were reflecting the dull glow of the fire. Then he realized they were burning a fiery red all their own. The monster, whatever it was, opened its mouth and let out a whooshing hiss. Its teeth were long and jagged, but what impressed Regdar the most were the fangs that protruded from the thing’s upper and lower jaws. Four in all, and each looked as long and sharp as Tasca’s rapier.

Clemf, still curled under his blanket, rolled over and continued sleeping while the monster crouched above him.

Circling to one side, Regdar moved away from the fire, trying his best to get behind the thing. His ploy worked, because the creature spun and moved away from Clemf.

“That’s a good little lizard vampire thing,” said Regdar, wishing he had gone to sleep in his armor. “Come and get it.”

As if responding to the big fighter’s taunt, the lizard creature leaped at him. It moved with surprising speed and grace, its tail slithering along the ground behind it. Regdar dodged back, fighting defensively, keeping anything he might not want bitten off as far away from the creature’s mouth as possible.

The greatclub swiped in at waist level. Regdar bashed it away. A claw slashed out of nowhere from the other side. Regdar sidestepped it. Teeth snapped shut before his face, moonlight glinting from the long, sharp fangs. Regdar almost gagged on the foul stench of rotting flesh. He stumbled back again.

The creature paced forward, letting out another hiss.

“Foul beast,” hollered Whitman. His hammer was poised for a blow.

The lizard creature reacted quickly and swung its tail at the stout dwarf. Whitman tried to jump clear, but the scaly appendage hit him in the feet. He tumbled across the ground and down the river embankment.

Regdar lunged forward, taking advantage of the distraction. His blade caught the creature below the jaw, opening a wound along its neck. Black ooze dribbled out, and the beast’s attention returned to the human fighter. It waggled its long, gray tongue, slopping foul-smelling liquid all over the ground and on Regdar’s sword.

The creature hissed, then spun around in time to catch Tasca’s rapier on its shield. The blade made a hollow thump as it hit, and the tip stuck in the soft material. Leaping into the air, the elf kicked out with both feet against the lizard thing’s shield, one on each side of his lodged sword. The impact forced the creature back a step, and Tasca fell to the ground, his sword once again in his hand.

Regdar stepped in again, taking a mighty swing at the vampire’s tail. He connected with a crash. A heavy scale broke into bits and scattered in the moonlight. Regdar was rewarded with a heavy thump to the chest as the tail flicked back. It knocked the wind from his lungs and the man from his feet.

Landing hard on his back, Regdar tried to inhale. He couldn’t. It was as if the air around him had been sucked away. Time slowed down, and everything he did, even blinking his eyes, felt labored and difficult. He stared up into the dark sky. The moon seemed so big among the tiny stars. His head felt like a watermelon, and the skin on his face felt hot and red.

Then something moved into his field of view, something larger even than the moon. Clutching his sword in his right hand, the big fighter looked up into the gaping maw of the vampire lizard. Its red eyes burned as they looked down on him. It growled, a sound that filled the surrounding space, drowning out all other noise—the wind, the crickets, even the rushing river.

The monster leaned forward to glare down at him, and a gob of thick, black liquid splashed across Regdar’s face. The lizard creature flew out of his view, and a huge forearm emblazoned with the image of a longsword came in, followed immediately by Clemf’s tightly gritted face. Then it too disappeared.

Regdar gasped again, this time with limited success. Sound returned to his ears. He heard the burbling river and the sucking noise of Clemf’s sword plunging into monster’s flesh. Rolling to his side, the fighter struggled to his feet.

Tasca and Clemf battled the monster from either side. The elf teased scales from its body with his dancing blade. The enormous human bashed large chunks of flesh from its hide. Somehow the creature had lost or discarded its club and shield. Spinning first one way, then back, the vampire swiped with its claws. It hissed at both men but was unable to focus on one without opening itself to a deadly assault from the other.

The standoff was broken when a hurtling, twisting mass of dwarf and hammer flew over the riverbank and plunged on top of the vampiric lizard.

Whitman’s hammer crashed into the monster’s reptilian head, making a hollow sound like a mallet on a coconut. The creature’s skull ruptured. Chunks of yellow curd shot out in a wave. The resulting splash covered the head of the dwarf’s weapon with dripping ooze.

The vampire collapsed to the ground.

“Agh!” shouted Whitman as he landed. “Brain juice! Vampire lizardman brain juice on my hammer.”

Regdar opened his mouth, then shut it again. He was sure there was something worse in this world to get on your hammer, but he couldn’t think of it at the moment.

Tasca and Clemf stepped back from the slumped monster, looking quickly in all directions to be sure the area was clear. Regdar checked to the riverbank.

“Anybody see Krunk?” he asked.

“No,” said Whitman, now on his knees feverishly rubbing dirt on his hammer.

“No,” replied Clemf.

“Over there!” Tasca broke into a run, pointing at something with his sword.

Regdar and Clemf followed.

Just at the edge of the embankment, where the plain sloped down toward the River Delnir, lay Krunk. He was facedown and spread-eagle atop a pile of branches.

Regdar crouched beside him. Blood covered most of the back of his head, neck, and shoulders, brimming from a savage wound where the monster had bitten nearly through his neck. His arms and most of his face were scratched and cut.

“He put up a fight,” said Regdar.

“Wouldn’t you?” asked Tasca.

Regdar shrugged, feeling a bit stupid.

Clemf kicked the dirt. “It had to be the cleric,” he said.

Tasca looked up, shaking his head. “What are you talking about? It could have been any of us.”

Clemf stowed his sword and raised his hands in the air. “Yeah, it could have, but it was the cleric.”

Tasca slumped as he realized what Clemf meant.

“There’s only one thing we can do,” Regdar said.

He stood. Lifting his sword over his head, he brought it down with a heavy grunt. The blade sliced through the bloody remains of Krunk’s neck, and the dwarf’s head rolled free.

Tasca jumped back. “Are you mad?” he screamed. “He was our friend.”

Clemf, too, looked uneasy.

Regdar grabbed the dismembered head by the beard. “He was, but he wouldn’t be when he rose from the dead. Help me with his body,” he said.

The others looked on, horrified.

Regdar stood up and looked at the elf and the human, Krunk’s head still dangling from his hand.

“He was bitten by a vampire,” he explained. “If we simply bury him, he’ll come back as a vampire.” He looked the other two men in the eyes. “Something tells me a holy man such as Krunk here—” he lifted the upside-down head, its eyes peering out lifelessly at the others—“would rather not return to the world as an undead monster.” He turned and headed down the embankment. “Now, if you really were Krunk’s friends, you’ll help me bury him in the river, so he can ascend in the afterlife, or whatever it is dwarves do when they die.”

The next two days were silent and uneventful If not for the family of rabbits Tasca shot for dinner the second night, the rest of the journey to the base of Mt. Fear would have been completely forgettable. As it turned out, the elf knew a thing or two about finding wild herbs and roasting fresh game. Dinner that night was delicious.