ic Red Death Redemption (IC)

[Avenger Assembled]

Wadjet hissed something rude in the language her mother used to curse particularly obnoxious boyfriends at the retreating zombie's back, then turned to her...zombie rescuer. What the hell....She studied him inside her helmet and gave a long, deep sigh. "Madre de Dios, this place! Yeah, I'm Wadjet, the Lady's goddamn Serpent." She considered a moment, then strapped her gun up behind her and shook the new zombie's hand. This is why I wear gloves, anyway. "She's with the kid she rescued from the vampires." She considered that a moment as she followed Dead Head further inside the place, then said, "Listen, I know one vampire besides Strix, and I've fought a hell of a lot of mummies with some ideas, but zombies and ghosts aren't my usual thing. So what the hell is going on with all this, and whatever the Hell is happening out there?" 

[Dr Archeville]

"Ah, good, good," he turned and started down a hallway, "kid's been through a lot, he shouldn't be alone."

 

She was still holding his hand.  It twitched, leaped away, and scurried back to the undead before her.

 

"So I found out a few things 'bout what's goin' on out there, though I'm gonna wait 'til we get ta Strix 'fore I say anythin'.  No sense in repeatin' myself.  As for this place," he gestured around them with both hands, "like I said, this here's the Twilight Lodge.  Was built as an Old Boys' Club back in the 1880s, but pretty soon material wealth weren't enough ta satisfy 'em.  So they started dabblin' in th'occult!"  They passed a painting of a grandmotherly figure, which Wadjet could swear was glaring at her.  "An' they got inta demonology an' diabolism an' necromancy an' all kindsa nasty stuff.  'Till it all blew up in their faces back in '51.  The house itself come alive, meaner'n all of 'em put together, an' murdered 'em all ta death.  It kept their spirits 'round as haunts, an' started lurin' in others.  That is, 'till Strix an' me an' a few others came in an' put a stop to it.  Well, mostly."  They turned a corner, and Wadjet felt a cold something move across the back of her neck.  "We freed all th' innocent souls, an' made sure that th' only souls here is the damned ones who'd be goin' ta Hell anyways.  Up here, they can work off some'a that karmic debt.  But they's still mean as ever."

 

He stopped at a set of double doors, a dark wood with gold trim and handles.  "Ah, here we go, his office.  He's probably in here."  He knocked thrice, "hey, Strix, ya in there?  Got a visitor."

[Amelia]

Mister Strix

 

After tending to the infected hospital workers to the extent of modern medical science, Mister Strix had retreated to the club president's personal office, where copies of many of the same tomes Dead Head had consulted in the library could be found on his shelves. He had several of them open on his desk, with a notepad and a pen sitting motionless under his hand while he read the same pages several times. The name kept popping up like a set of floodlights in the front of his mind, blinding him to all else.

 

Adriana.

 

Dead Head and Wadjet heard a tiger's roar from the other side of the doors, and the crash of books flying across the room in several directions at once as an arm lashed out with superhuman strength to clear them from the desk. One of them hit the door. When Dead Head opened the door, he saw Strix sitting at his desk, his cowl pulled off his head, his face buried in his hands and a mop of dark hair, blood leaking between his chalk-white fingers. His head slowly rose from his hands. Blood was streaked around his black eyes, which glared at Wadjet.

 

"...You?! What the hell are you doing here? Where's Horus?"

 

[Avenger Assembled]

A litany of obscenities born of fear flashed in Wadjet's mind as she confronted Strix - but she'd come this far already. "Taking care of business." She swaggered into the office and put one foot up on an empty chair and reminded herself that she belonged anywhere that she could put herself, even if part of her still wanted to run out the door and burn the place down while she went. What the hell, I got church stuff. We're gonna go down, we're gonna go down. "Which somebody needs to start doing. So what the Hell's going on?" 

[Dr Archeville]

"Hey, hey, hey!"  Dead Head got between Strix & Wadjet, holding up hands against both.  "Let's keep things mellow, y'all.  We got enough problems with th' growin' vampire plague out there, we don't need t'be at each other's throats in here."

 

He took a step back, looked to Strix, "Horus is keepin' an eye on lil' Esteban.  He's safe, safe as can be."  Mutt materialized beside him, and nodded.

 

He looked back to Wadjet, "as for what's goin' on -- an' it looks like Strix here's read summa th' same books I did -- is that there's a new breed a' vampire in town.  The Red Death, it's called, an' they're nasty cusses.  Not as strong as mah pal here, but more'n enough for most folks, an' they spread a lot faster.  We got some folks downstairs from the hospital, they got sprayed with some'a the blood from one, an' that was enough t'infect 'em.  Takes a few days ta turn, though.  All these vamps want's t'gorge on blood, and spread their infection.  Fortunately, they seem t'have all the same weaknesses most vamps got.  Oh, and once they're turned, thy ain't them anymore: their soul's gone, on ta whatever afterlife it'd normally go to.  All that's inside 'em is hunger an' echoes a' memories."

 

He looked back and forth between the two again, "I've read that there's a chance -- a slim chance -- that a person can fight off th'infection, so the ones we got below might not turn.  If we can find some way t'increase their chances, boost their immune system or somethin', that'd be great.  But doin' that an' findin' all the vamps an' potential vamps that're already out there... this is gonna be nasty.  Strix, you got any lead on where these things might've come from?"

[Amelia]

Mister Strix

 

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"So what the Hell's going on?"

 

Mister Strix continued to glare at Wadjet. "Have you been seeing things since you got here? Feel like someone's breathing down your neck, but nothing's there when you turn around? Furniture moving around when you're not looking? That's the house. You're not a member of the club, and you're not an employee, so, despite my best efforts..." He turned his black-eyed stare up at the ceiling. "...Despite my specific instructions, it considers you fair game. It knows it can't get away with hurting you, but it's going to mess with you, because like everything else here, it's an evil thing being forced to do good, but unlike everything else, it's also a spoiled toddler throwing a twenty-four/seven tantrum. And it's shy, so, since you're not part of 'the family', the second you leave, it's going to reach into your mind and try its best to rip your memories of this place out by the roots." He pulled open a desk drawer, retrieved a notepad with a pen clipped to it, and tossed it at Wadjet. "So write things down. Starting with that. I don't want to have to repeat everything back to you later, or explain to Horus where the nightmares are coming from."

 

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"Horus is keepin' an eye on lil' Esteban.  He's safe, safe as can be."  Mutt materialized beside him, and nodded.

 

"Good. I don't know how safe he is, even with both of his parents dead. I don't know if the others who infected them know about him, or if they'd have any reason to come after him. We should assume he's in danger until they're all ashes and they all fall down."

 

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"There's a new breed a' vampire in town.  The Red Death, it's called, an' they're nasty cusses.  Not as strong as mah pal here, but more'n enough for most folks, an' they spread a lot faster."

 

"It's true, these things bear no more than a superficial resemblance to my condition. Things that just slow me down will kill them outright. And I'm not...contagious. The bastard didn't turn me into this by accident. He had to work at it. Make a project out of me."

 

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"I've read that there's a chance -- a slim chance -- that a person can fight off th'infection, so the ones we got below might not turn.  If we can find some way t'increase their chances, boost their immune system or somethin', that'd be great."

 

"I've already pumped the two guests downstairs full of every kind of post-exposure prophylaxis known to human science. If they'd just been stuck with a hepatitis needle, they'd probably be fine. But a plague that's at least as much sorcery as virus? I don't know if it'll make any difference. I'm not holding my breath...That wasn't a joke. Sorry. Old habits."

 

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"Strix, you got any lead on where these things might've come from?"

 

"...Johann..." Mister Strix muttered to himself as he sullenly walked around the office retrieving the books he'd sent flying around the room.

 

"I have an idea of where they came from. The piece of garbage walking around in the shape of a man who murdered me...he likes to pay me a visit once in a while. Celebrate what he calls 'my birthday'. Usually it's just a beating. I don't know yet how he keeps finding me. He wants me to become part of his twisted little 'family' after he breaks me in." He turned to Dead Head. "He's the one who showed me what the inside of my own throat looks like the other day. He said something about 'teaching me a lesson', 'showing me how good I have it, how much worse it could've been'. There's no way this is a coincidence. Maybe he created these things? Maybe he sent them here? Or maybe he just knew they were coming, and wanted to rub my nose in it. I don't know, and I doubt it matters. Unleashing something like this just to make a point is perfectly consistent with what little I know about him."

 

[Avenger Assembled]

"Wait a second wait a second, so getting past all that supernatural mumbo-jumbo you just threw down, you put your headquarters in a place where you can't even turn off the security system?" Wadjet looked at Dead Head, was still not sure how to read that guy's facial expressions, then looked back at Strix. Am I the only sane one? Except for the dog, he's all right. "Well okay, this mindwiping crap isn't happening to me, so we're gonna figure out how to stop that." She supposed the vampire plague attacking the city was also potentially relevant - and the more Strix talked, the more she had to admit his story sounded familiar. 

 

All right. Be a good team player. Do what Anna would-no. "We've got a sarcophagus back at our place, but I don't know how strong it actually is - silver chains, holy stuff, I can probably, heh, borrow it...As for your vampire plague, sounds like we need to flash-fry all the bloodsuckers at once, then take out your head guy. Lady Horus can hit a whole city at once, especially if it's light out. Then we can go hunting for the king vampire. I've been getting ready for that for a while now." 

[Dr Archeville]

Dead Head stared at Strix, mouth slightly agape.  "Dang, man.  I've heard a' some vamps tormentin' their spawn before, but that takes the cake."

 

No wonder he's so dour.

 

He turned back to Wadjet, "whoa, she can do that?  Hrn, well, if she is Horus' champion, I guess she could.  But, how far down can she reach?  If they's hidin' out in the sewers, or under 'em, would her light reach 'em?  Or are we gonna have ta go in after 'em, root out their nests?  Is there any way we can lure 'em out ta one place, like a," he scratched his chin, "like a stadium or construction site or somethin'?"

 

Mutt padded over to Wadjet, and flumped down at her feet.

[Avenger Assembled]

Wadjet ducked down and skritched behind the dog's ears thoughtfully. We should get a dog. Maybe a...no, Anna'll want some old lady dog. "I've seen her do stuff that big. And I'm loaded for vampire bear." She didn't know if vampire animals were actually a thing, and decided she didn't want to ask. "Vamp that old you need to piss him off," she suggested. "Didn't get that old by being dumb, right? Gotta really piss him off if you want to draw him out." She snapped her gloved fingers and said, "If he did it, he's gotta be around here watching, right? We show him his plan didn't work and that he's old and busted - that's gotta make him want to come out and prove he's still the king." 

[Amelia]

Mister Strix

 

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"Wait a second wait a second, so getting past all that supernatural mumbo-jumbo you just threw down, you put your headquarters in a place where you can't even turn off the security system?"

 

Mister Strix sighed as he continued to retrieve the fallen books. "Don't think of it as an alarm. Think of it as a poorly-trained guard dog. Only instead of living with the dog, you live inside it."

 

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"Well okay, this mindwiping crap isn't happening to me, so we're gonna figure out how to stop that."

 

Strix sighed some more. "The time you're spending indulging your boundless optimism is time better spent writing your future self notes."

 

The man in red-splattered white dropped the stack of retrieved tomes back onto his desk and slumped back down into his plush leather chair. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "If I were treating this like a mortal disease, quarantining the known infected would only be the first step. The next one would be tracing the infection back to its source, retracing everybody's steps. The two we have downstairs were infected by Maria Delgado when she turned. The kid said that her husband, Javier, infected her. How was he infected? The kid had some idea about that, didn't he? And what about the one you found in the morgue? Did those two have anything in common? Were they coworkers? Cousins?"

 

[Dr Archeville]

Sheesh, I don't know which one a' them's more stubborn...

 

Dead Head nodded, "kid said something about his pa comin' back from Saint Sebastian's with a bandage on his neck, claimin' to've cut hisself in th' kitchen.  After that 'e started callin' in sick, sleepin' all day.  Then one night he's drivin' th' family 'round, slams into a lamp post while chowin' down on 'is wife.  I'm guessin' that's when 'e fully turned.  But why'd 'e say 'e cut hisself?  I don't think these Red Death vamps got the same mental mojo you do, do they?  Maybe it was yer- uh, was Johann what bit 'im, an' wiped his mind after?"  He cocked his head in thought, trying to recall if he'd heard of vampires who could create more than one type of vampire, a type other than what they themselves were.  "As fer the fella I found in th' morgue, Roberto Hernandez, chart said he was admitted after havin' been mauled by a large critter a' some sort, an' died from trauma an' blood loss three days ago.  Didn't see anything else on the record indicating where the attack was, but whoever was workin' that night might remember somethin'."

[Avenger Assembled]

"I'd shoot a dog like that," muttered Wadjet. "No offense, amigo," she added as she scratched behind Mutt's ears. "All right, we talk to the morgue people, we hit Saint Sebastian's, we work out a way to get all the vampires in one place for Horus to fry 'em and maybe drag out the leader. Probably use Strix here as the lure, since guy like that's gonna care more about his runaway kid than anything else. Think that covers everything?" she inquired. 

[Amelia]

Mister Strix

 

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Maybe it was yer- uh, was Johann what bit 'im, an' wiped his mind after?"

 

"No, no, you people aren't listening. Johann didn't make these things. He made me. I've been over this. Our bites aren't infectious. It took him days to turn me. Johann might have sent these things to Bedlam, or he might have just found out they were coming and decided to rub my nose in it before leaning back with a bag of popcorn to enjoy the show. But he's not leading them. They're not his."

 

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"All right, we talk to the morgue people, we hit Saint Sebastian's, we work out a way to get all the vampires in one place for Horus to fry 'em and maybe drag out the leader. Probably use Strix here as the lure, since guy like that's gonna care more about his runaway kid than anything else."

 

"'The shelter first. That's our likely infection vector. Getting them in one place' and 'dragging out their leader' might be one and the same. Some vampires seem able to summon and control their offspring. If we can find the one who started all this, whoever they are, they might be able to call their children to protect them. Or these things might be completely independent of one another, like a true virus. We just don't have enough to know yet."

 

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"Think that covers everything?"

 

"Almost. I can't believe I'm about to suggest this, but if someone like Horus trusts you enough to work with you, and you truly want to remember this place, then there is one way. You can become a member of the Twilight Lodge." He reached into a drawer, pulled something out, and slid it across the desk. An unopened blood drawing kit. Syringe, strap, glass vial. "You provide a blood sample. I use my magic, get a look into your past, see the worst thing you've ever done. If it's not bad enough to disqualify you, and the bar for that is so low it's almost touching the ground, then you're in. The house stays out of your head, and you have a back-up headquarters. Take it or leave it."

 

[Dr Archeville]

Well excuuuse me, Mister Strix.  Ain't my fault if I'm in th' dark 'about things yer so tight-lipped about, like yer vampire pappy, what he can and cain't... cain't... haint... oh... oh, hold on a sec....

 

Dead Head began looking through the books Strix had been perusing, both those still on the desk and the ones he'd thrown about.  "So we hittin' one after th' other, or splittin' up an' hittin' both at once?  If we's facin' a full-on vampire 'pocalypse, it might be best if -- no," he'd picked up one book, flipped through the pages, tossed it aside, "that ain't it -- we cover as much ground as we can.  Find anyone else what's been bitten but not yet turned.  Speakin' of, I think I might have a way t'help anyone we find, an' th' folks downstairs."  He looked to Strix, "I've dealt with a few cases'a possession, by ghosts an' haints an' such, and was able t'exorcise 'em, drawin' out th' spirit usin' my own, like a magnet.  I know this ain't the same, but I might -- might -- be able t'do somethin' similar, draw out th' necromantic infection 'fore it runs its course, or at least weaken it an' give their own systems a better chance t'fight it off.  I'll need more info fer that, though, an' I'm sure I saw some account by some 'cultist who described the aura from one'a these things..."

[Avenger Assembled]

Wadjet 

 

"...okay, but this had better not be a sex thing, vampire man." Wadjet pulled off her glove, slowly, revealing skin several shades darker than what either of her companions had had when she was alive. Squeezing one fingertip, she neatly pricked out several drops of her blood after quickly looking over Strix's equipment, obviously experienced with field medical kits if not this particular act. When a small vial was full, she handed it over expectantly. 

[Amelia]

Mister Strix

 

"Don't flatter yourself, Punk." The man in white turned his chair to the side, averting his eyes while the young woman drew her own blood. When he heard the light tap of the glass vial against the wooden desk, he spun back around, snatching it almost too quickly for Wadjet to see. Once he held the vial, he simply held it and stared at it, an immobile statue to outside observers. I can't stand this kid, and now I'm inviting her into The Lodge? What's wrong with me? Other than the fact that you're scapegoating her. It's not her fault she saw you shooting up. You were too eager, too sloppy, too pathetic. But she's so damned annoying. I knew a hundred kids just like her, every one of them with a chip on their shoulder, but when I was stitching shrapnel wounds in six-year-olds in Tripoli, where were they? At the mall getting a nose ring? To Hell with it. She thinks I'm a monster and a pervert, and she's right. So give her a show. A story to tell.

 

He turned back toward Wadjet, his black eyes drilling into hers unblinkingly as he thumbed the cap off the vial and slowly lifted it to his lips and poured it into his mouth. Despite those eyes being an unbroken field of blackness, with no distinction between iris, pupil, or sclera, somehow she knew they were looking directly at her. As soon as the cap was off and the smell of the blood So young, so vital, just bursting with flavor slammed into his nose like a runaway train, his mouth grew to two or three times its normal size, while the rest of his head remained constant. His face didn't get bigger, but his mouth took up so much more space on it. There was just an impossible number of teeth packed into that maw, including four fangs that should have made it impossible for him to close his mouth without stabbing himself. His tongue was suddenly and similarly enlarged, looking more like a red snake than a part of human anatomy as it writhed around between the fangs. Still his eye contact with Wadjet remained unbroken as he poured the vial into his maw and that tentacle-like tongue scraped the glass, leaving only a few drops.

 

When he swallowed the blood, he finally looked away. His eyes and mouth both clamped shut, and he doubled over as the visions assaulted his mind. He started grunting from behind clenched teeth as his head started jerking back and forth. Cuts and bruises appeared on his face. He stumbled out of his chair to his feet, staggering to a nearby wall where his flailing hands grabbed the bookshelf for support. His bone-white fingers clenched hard enough around the shelving to crush it to splinters, sending a row of books tumbling to the ground.

 

After a few seconds, the cuts and bruises on his face vanished. He stood up straight and opened his eyes. He looked at Wadjet again, but this time, his expression was soft and open. The hard edges of disdain and resentment had vanished. He slowly walked toward her, stopping when he came within arms reach. He spoke in low, even tones, almost a whisper. "You can pick up any phone, any radio in the world, in any world, and call me here. Just ask for 'The Operator', ask them to connect you to the Twilight Lodge. Burt here calls it 'the ghost-phone'. Next time you go after him, call me. At the end of the night, either I'll walk away, or he will. Not both." He turned and headed for the door. "Come with me. We need to get you your key."

 

Strix led the pair down several levels of stairs on a trip Dead Head was familiar with, to a room in the basement dominated by a massive black furnace. Green steam leaked from the dozens of pipes leading from the furnace into the ceiling. When Strix opened the hatch at the front, a hatch as big as the door to the house, he revealed a roiling sea of green flame. "I know it looks like a portal to Hell, but that's just because it is. 'Which Hell?' you ask? All of them." He took off one glove, rolled up his sleeve, grew a claw, slicing open his own wrist. As Wadjet had seen before, at first, he did not bleed. Only when he clenched a fist and strained did a few drops of black syrup trickle out of his skin and into the vial, mixing with the last few drops of Wadjet's blood. He thrust the vial into the furnace. The blood in the vial started to boil, but the flames didn't burn his skin. "Hold out your hand." He poured the boiling liquid onto the inside of Wadjet's wrist. She felt a slight burning, and then a black tattoo appeared, a circle with one half filled in, the other half empty. The same tattoo appeared on his wrist. "Easy way to tell if someone's a member. Hold your wrists together, and they'll appear." He pulled his hand away, and the tattoos vanished from both his skin and hers. "It only shows when you want it to. Just flash it at the doorman and you'll have the run of the place." He pointed at a framed document hanging on the wall that she somehow hadn't noticed before. It was a list of names. "Mister Strix". "Dead Head". "Rosa Thorne". "Liam Conners". "The Tattered Man". And at the bottom, "Wadjet". "Congratulations, you're in the club. Welcome to the Twilight Lodge, your home away from home."

 

Edited October 6, 2019 by Grumblefloof

[Avenger Assembled]

"Huh." Wadjet rubbed her wrist as she pulled her glove back on, the dark tattoo striking against her only slightly paler skin. She'd watched the flame with face impassive behind her mask, eyes wide. "Not the first time I got ink to join a gang. Probably the first Miskito girl in a club in this damn city." Her tone of voice was about as approving as it ever got, or so Strix and Dead Head were finding out. She considered for a while behind that mask, giving Strix time to think about the face that lay within. The almost-sixteen-year-old in that vision had definitely been younger than the woman before him, but by how much? "I'll keep in touch," she said quietly, more to Strix than anything else. "Right now, I'm gonna go tell the Lady about the plague. She'll be in touch." With that, she turned and headed for the door, out of the room and out of the club. 

[Dr Archeville]

While Strix was was de facto "President" of the Twilight Lodge, it could certainly be argued that Dead Head was more in touch with it, at least in some respects.  He could always see and hear the spirits within, even when they were otherwise invisible even to a vampire's enhanced senses.  And he was seeing and hearing a lot of them now.  A few were excited to see the addition of a new member, another soul who might take pity on them.  Others were more irritated, knowing it meant one less person they could (seriously) torment.  Some even were terrified, seeing a glimpse of the hell that awaited them when Strix opened that furnace.

 

"An' if ya wanna stay on this side," he murmured, "or even get a shot of goin' upstairs, y'all'll be on yer best behaviors."

 

Once the ritual was done and Wadjet had turned away, he turned to Strix.  "So we're goin' to th' shelter now?  Or splittin' up, one fer th' shelter an' one fer th' hospital?  Or d'ya want me t'see to our guests, see what I can do 'bout drawin' that curse out?"

[Amelia]

Mister Strix

 

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"So we're goin' to th' shelter now?  Or splittin' up, one fer th' shelter an' one fer th' hospital?  Or d'ya want me t'see to our guests, see what I can do 'bout drawin' that curse out?"

 

The man in white shook his head. "No, too much splitting up already. Let's head up to the detention level. The sooner we find out whether or not this cure of yours works, the better. Adri-THE SURGEONS at the hospital are operating on that cop from the Delgado place as we speak. Last thing we need is another one of these vermin waking up on a cot or in a morgue drawer in two days and ambushing whatever hapless orderly opens the door or stops by to change their bedpan. We got lucky last time, and when it comes to luck, mine never holds for long. We should have a day before we need to head back to the hospital, but we need to know if we're heading back with a cure or with a stake. We find that out first. Then, the shelter. I guess Horus and the brat will meet us there."

 

[Dr Archeville]

Dead Head nodded, then headed off towards the dungeons.

 

He could have teleported, but he was working as he walked on how to do what he'd said he could do.  He had drawn out possessing spirits before, even dragged ghosts from the ethereal plane into this one, forcing them to manifest in a solid -- and punch-able -- form.  He'd been able to remove a few curses in similar manner, too -- accelerated aging, never-healing wounds, mystically-enhanced diseases -- but they were all minor things compared to this "Red Death."  The principle was the same, though: use his own near-endless necromantic energies to set up an attracting effect that will draw out the curse/spirit, and hold it there outside of the victim until it dissipates.  For curses, this usually didn't take long, since they needed a host to effect, but with distinct spirits, it was trickier.  And this "Red Death" had elements of both, starting as an infection that became an entity.

 

In time he reached the detention cells.  He looked at the fully-turned Hernandez, then at the nurse & orderly who'd been covered in Maria Delgado's infected blood.  "Should start with those two first, the curse'll have the weakest hold in 'em," he said, assuming Strix was there and listening to him.  He waved the zombie guard aside and approached the door to one of their cells, "hello?  Hey, you feelin' alright in there?"

[Amelia]

Mister Strix

 

The man in white pointed at the cell containing the nurse and the orderly from Bedlam General. "There's still a chance those two can be saved, and there's still something left in there to save." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder toward Hernandez. "If you think you can learn something by tinkering with that thing back there that will put these people in less danger, then by all means, tinker away. But the monster wearing Hernandez's face is only here for research purposes. The second you think you've learned all you can from it, I'm staking the damned thing myself" he snarled.

 

He moved closer to the cell containing the hospital employees, walking slowly, averting his eyes and gritting his teeth as he approached the silver bars. "Let me check and see if the hypnosis has held," he whispered. "YOU!" he shouted into the cell. "Stand on one leg and clap your hands twice. Then sit back down and answer any questions he asks." He pointed a thumb at Dead Head.

 

[Amelia]

GM

 

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"YOU! Stand on one leg and clap your hands twice. Then sit back down and answer any questions he asks."

 

The two infected humans from the hospital carried out Mister Strix's instructions without delay, each awkwardly lifting one leg up off the ground and wobbling as they clapped their hands. They both breathed a sigh of relief as they sat back down on their cots.

 

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"Hello? Hey, you feelin' alright in there?"

 

Both of the humans already had skin noticeably more pale than when they first arrived at the Lodge, with dark circles around glassy eyes which couldn't seem to focus, or look for very long in the direction of any light source.

 

"Tired," the nurse muttered. "Thirsty." The orderly glanced up at her and nodded. "Yeah, same."

 

[Dr Archeville]

Dead Head nodded, and moved to stand before Hernandez's cell.  The smell of burning flesh was a bit stronger, but the Red Death vampire was still, huddled in a corner, no longer struggling against the manacles.  "Alright, Roberto, lemme get one more good look atcha."

 

The lights in the dungeons flickered, as they often did, and suddenly Dead Head was on the other side of the door, inside the cell with Hernandez.  If he noticed the entrance, he made no show of it.  Dead Head took a step forward and crouched down, and the green-blue flames in his eyes flared up as he studied the vampire's aura.  "Okay, there's the general animatin' force, the physical enhancements."  He crept a bit closer, "an' there's the connection to les mondes d'ombres, the shattenwelt."  Another inch closer, "an' there's where yer soul used ta-"

 

Hernandez suddenly sprang forth, hissing and clawing, straining against the silvered chains but coming just short of connecting.  Just as Dead Head planned.  The revenant smirked and cocked his head, looking the vampire square in the eye.  "Ah, an' there's the rage, the hunger.  Yep, I think I got everythin' I need.  Much obliged, Roberto."  He tipped his scalp to the vampire, the lights flickered again, and the vampire found himself alone in the cell again.

[Dr Archeville]

Dead Head appeared in the cell holding the nurse and the orderly, standing at the door.  He nodded to Strix, then moved towards the nurse, grabbed her upper arms in a firm grip, and looked her over.  "This may get a bit messy," he announced, "but not as messy as the alternative."

 

His eyes flared again with their eerie cyan light, which he locked on to the nurse's eyes.  His chest began to slowly rise and fell, mirroring her shallow breathing.  "C'mon out, ya little..."  The light from his eyes increased, making her look even paler.  "Alllmooossst... there!"

 

Her body began convulsing, though he held firm.  Her eyes went completely red, then the red deepened to black.  The black seeped from her eyes, her mouth, her nose, at first a dribble but steadily becoming a stream that arched impossibly up and flowed towards Dead Head.  Much of it hung in the air between them, as if transfixed by his eyelights, though a few strands still clung to her.  But in time even those broke from her, leaving a small sphere of shattenblut in the air between them.

 

"Now t'see which'll hold out longer -- its existence independent of a host, or my concentration."

[Amelia]

Mister Strix

 

Impressive.

 

The man in white's black eyes stretched wide as he watched the exorcism. He slowly walked toward and around the floating ball of shadow-essence. "So that...that's me, isn't it? That's what I'm made of. This is the glue holding this decaying meat-puppet I call 'a body' together. These are the strings making that puppet dance, giving it the...illusion of life."

 

He shook his head and turned away. "Great work. We'll hold onto the two of them for observation until the usual gestation period has passed. Then we can wipe them and cut them loose. But please tell me you didn't pull it out before you had some kind of container prepared. Do I need to run back to the library and frantically read up on how to craft a phylactery?"

 

Edited November 23, 2019 by Grumblefloof