A/N: I've made up Seth's last name as it's yet to be, or may never be, mentioned. I know that in the show he's a heartless bastard but I've always thought of him as a halfway decent person who was corrupted by Herrick. The story takes place in the winter of 1914.
"You're a decent person, Seth. Don't worry, that'll change before too long." Lieutenant William Herrick flashed him an evil grin, stuck his hands in his pockets, and walked towards the tents. He somewhat surprised as these were the first words that Herrick had spoken to him since he had arrived from the Suffolk Regiment. Seth and some of the other soldiers in the Rifle Brigade had discussed what the Lieutenant had done to get transferred from one of the top Regiments to the bottom of the line. There had been rumors flying around before the war had officially broken out that Herrick had killed a superior officer and then smart talked his way out of a court-martial. Though in some soldiers' opinions, a court-martial was favorable to ending up in the "Poor Bloody Infantry."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Seth shouted. The blonde man gestured with his hand for Seth to follow him. The middle aged private bit his lip, weighed the decision, and then hurried to catch up to his superior officer. He forced his freezing legs into a brisk jog and navigated the path towards the Lieutenant. He weaved in and out of various tents until he fell into line behind the shorter man
The two soldiers entered the one of the larger white tents that served as a makeshift barracks. The flaxen man sat down on the third cot on the right and motioned for Seth to sit opposite him. Herrick still had that menacing grin plastered to his face. "Go ahead. Foreman won't mind."
"Thanks. What did you mean back there, sir?"
"No need for 'sir' here, Seth. You don't mind if I call you Seth, do you?" The taller man shook his head. "Good. We're all friends here. Now, Seth, tell me, what do you want?" "Si.." he caught himself. "Um…I don't know. Get a decent cot, figure out a way for my bunk mate to stop snoring, avoid getting shot, that kinda thing, I s'pose."
"Ah, now that's a fucking brilliant goal. Something that I might be able to help you with."
Seth raised his eyebrows. "What? Getting my mate to stop snoring? I doubt it…"
"No," he chuckled, "No, but he won't be a problem for long, don't worry. I mean I could help you get out of this war alive."
"Oh," whispered Seth, "That makes more sense."
"Though the procedure is slightly….unconventional." The tired, disgruntled, frightened, grimy soldier cocked his head, confused. What, does he mean a dishonorable discharge or something? I guess I could live with that, as long as I'm out…
"You're confused. Perfectly understandable. I've found over the years that the less blunt you are, the higher success rate you acquire." Private Reeve's face was one of total and utter puzzlement. "Either you're making no sense or I'm very unintelligent."
"Would you prefer that I get straight to the point?" He nodded. "Fine." The Lieutenant paused, searching for a smoke in his trench coat's pockets. Seth hurriedly pulled one out and handed it to the officer. Herrick lit the cigarette and continued.
"How old do you think I am, Seth?" The man shrugged. "Come on, guess."
"Em, Thirty-five? Forty?"
Herrick chuckled. "I'm flattered, but you're a tad off. Try 132, give or take a few years. I lose track." For a moment, he simply gawked at him. His face twitched and then Seth broke out into a fit of laughter. "You had me going there, for a second. 132? Give or take a few years? Brilliant, sir."
"I'm not joking, Seth." His voice had suddenly turned icy and the malevolent smile had slid off of his face. Seth could see that he was deadly serious. "Okay, you're not. But no one is 132. No one. How could you possibly be that old? You don't look a day over forty."
"Perhaps it would be easier for me to just show you. I'm getting the feeling your more of a visual person, am I right?" The Private nodded. "Don't blink." His voice changed again, sounding quite jolly now, like he was anticipating a treat. Seth Reeve's eyes widened in a combination of shock, horror, and fear. Herrick's eyes had turned completely black and his teeth had turned to pointed fangs. The man, no, creature thought Seth, hissed and seemed to smile. With a rapid blink, his teeth returned to within the human norm and his eyes became a pale blue once more.
"Y-y-y-you're a-a-a v-v-v-v-vamp-p-pire!" Seth threw himself bachwards and scrambled off of the cot. He turned himself over and began to crawl as fast as his limbs would allow towards the flap. He had almost made it out and paused for a moment to glance back at the freak on the bed. Still looking back at the Lieutenant, he resumed his mad crawl only to hit a pair of uniform clad legs. He looked up, hoping for a rescue. Instead, his eyes met the glimmering black of another vampire. The newcomer bared his fangs and hissed in warning. Seth didn't need it; he wouldn't have moved for five hundred pounds. Herrick glanced in their direction. "Ah, good! I was worried I'd have to chase him around camp. What an excuse I'd have to come up with; can you imagine?" His voice was still oddly jovial, as though he found the whole situation extremely amusing.
"Shit…" And with that, Seth fainted.
"Great, Herrick. Just what we need: another lightweight*!"
When Private Seth Reeve awoke, he knew that something was different. First of all, it stank like shit. Second, his neck felt like someone had shoved a couple of nails in it. Third, his eyes felt like they were one fire. And fourth, he was bloody starving.
He didn't remember much, just something about a queer little blonde man. His pale, dirt stained hand reached for his neck and began massaging it. As his fingers went over the left side he felt two small holes. What the fuck? His hand still on his neck, he managed a sitting position and surveyed the surrounding area. Immediately he realized why it smelt; he was in the middle of the body pile.
A crow landed to his right and promptly began ingesting the eyes of some unknown casualty. "FUCKING SHIT!" He began backpedaling away from the bodies, trying not to recognize faces of fallen friends. After a few feet he hit something-a pair of legs. Seth looked up to see Herrick smiling down at him. "It's a shock, I know, but you'll get used to it. Come on." He hauled the larger man up with no difficulty.
"I'll bet your hungry, am I right?" He continued smiling at Seth, whose face had resumed a pose of absolute horror. "What the hell have you done to me? Don-Don't touch me!" Herrick nodded soothingly and removed his hand from the former Private's arm. The new recruit began to scramble away from the older vampire only to double over in pain after a few feet. "Aww. Oh god! It hurts! What the hell did you- Aagghh!" His body felt like every nerve was on fire. A white hot agony was radiating out from his heart. Every vain and artery in his body was screaming for nourishment…for blood.
"Yes, it is unpleasant; you'll get used to it. But that's the beauty of wars: it's full of people that no one is going to miss." His face changed suddenly into a look of command. He snapped the fingers of his left hand and the vampire that had entered the tent earlier walked in. He were dragging a man into the room. Even though the soldier was struggling for all that he was worth, he was no match for the enhanced strength of a creature of the night. "It's dinner time, Seth."
The graying man had no time to debate the morality of the situation. His animal instincts kicked in instantly. Seth's face contorted in concentration. He blinked and his small brown eyes were replaced with ones out of a nightmare. They became black as petroleum, reflecting the light of the lamp in Herrick's hand. His canines elongated into sharp, pointed fangs. An eager hiss escaped his mouth and he lunged. The starving vampire instinctively went for the terrified Private's expose throat. His jugular vein was distended from his taut neck muscles. The man screamed, only exciting Seth more.
His shriek ended abruptly as Herrick's pet project sank his teeth into his prey. As his fangs punctured the jugular wall, Seth felt life pump into him. The searing pain was relieved almost instantly and for the first time since waking up, he felt properly alive. As the last drop of the precious red liquid left the Private's veins and entered Seth's, he pulled away; his eyes returned to brown and his fangs shrank back to human size automatically.
"Very good, very good. Feeling much better, I'd say. Come on, Seth. There's a war going on, and war means armies, and armies, armies mean food." Herrick's eyes twinkled and he turned on his heel. The unknown vampire had disappeared as soon as Seth had begun to drink. Seth eagerly wiped his blood coated mouth on his sleeve and `trotted along in his wake.
*I mean lightweight as in wimp