A/N: The tag is romance but honestly it's less of that and more...I'm not too sure. I mean it's Kain guys; why would you not? Always saw him as a sort of hero, or at least lesser of two evils. We'll see how this goes along. More of a retelling of the series I guess or at least Blood Omen/Soul Reaver era.
He didn't understand what he was seeing. He should have been dead, but he was still...alive, somehow. The nobleman couldn't move, his body frozen as if paralyzed, though he could still see and think. The robe wearing man in front of him only grinned, a wrinkled smile on his lips as he began to speak.
"Hm, what do we have here? Murdered by assassins, it seems from the look of your final moments. How pitiful..."
Kain could only frown at the amused looking man, anger surfacing from his hurt pride rearing its ugly head. He did not like being insulted by some babbling old crone. The paralyzed man attempted to speak, but found it was difficult, his mouth dry as if he'd swallowed sand.
"...What?" The old man finally seemed to really notice him then, his gaze quite piercing under his hood. Those eyes chilled Kain to the very bone, seeming to stare straight through him. Whoever this man was, he definitely wasn't an ordinary sorcerer.
"You have died, Kain. Struck down by assassins, your soul has left your body. I have called it here, in this place because I have a proposition for you," the wizened man spoke, his words making the nobleman stop and think for a second. He remembered leaving the tavern, some odd sounds and the sight of some black figures, but...He attempted to look down at his own body, and was shocked to see the various cuts and holes in his bloodied and ripped flesh, tearing through his clothes and armor. He was no practitioner of medicine, but even he knew enough to realize that these wounds had indeed been fatal. They did not hurt however, even the large hole in his rib cage a few inches wide though fresh blood still lined his front. His words must be true. Kain reasoned, steeling his gaze on the necromancer, as he now realized the old man's true nature.
"What need could you possibly have of me?" He questions, to which the necromancer barks out a laugh.
"Need? All I need from you is one thing, Kain. Do you wish to have your revenge on those fools?" It took him a second to understand the man's question. Anger surged through him as he remembered the humiliation he had felt as their blades had pierced him, leaving him to die on the cold dirt road. There was no other answer for him; he would have his revenge at any cost.
"Revenge? You needn't have asked, necromancer. I wish to see them lying in agony before my very feet, no matter the cost," Kain answered, his black brows narrowing as he proclaimed his desire. The old man only laughed again, reaching out a wrinkled, thin hand towards him. Black energy spirals out from the tips of the necromancers fingers to touch the nobleman, who could feel their cold energy slowly spread through his body. He could only watch as his skin grew pale, an almost ashen grey or white in hue, as the cells in his body forcibly mutate, changing him. It felt as if he was on fire, an odd heat running through his entire being. His eyes, his skin, his internal organs; everything felt like it was burning up. Kain's whole body screamed out from the sudden pain, then almost as soon as it happened, it was over. He noticed an odd feeling aside from the pain, a distinct lack of warmth. Yet it did not bother him, though he found he was not cold... Flexing his hands, he found the odd paralysis was gone, his movement restored to him. Kain could only stare at the old man in wonder, his mind still reeling from the effects of the transformation. Everything began to go black before his eyes, though he thought he heard the necromancer mutter one last phrase before he lost consciousness.
"Now go and fix the wrongs I have wrought, Scion of Balance."
The air was stale, stifling and musky. He only saw blackness, no trace of light whatsoever. Kain could feel he was in a small confined space, wood surrounding him from all sides. It took him a moment to realize what it was he was laying in. His own coffin; trapping him the darkness. It is true. I was killed. Fie on those fools. I shall have my revenge, though first I must get out of this damnable box.
He just lay there for a few moments, attempting to flex any limbs he could. He could feel the heaviness of his armor with every movement, though it did not feel as heavy as before. His sword was missing however, no longer poking at his side, which made him feel a little bit vulnerable. Everything still worked, though it did feel as if he had awoken from a long slumber. It took Kain a few seconds to get any strength back in his arms, lifting them from their prone position at his sides to feel the lid of wooden casket holding him. It was rough, hard and a bit damp, though it felt as if he gave it a hard enough push it would open. He was sure he could do that much; even a simple human could lift something so insignificant. Putting barely any strength into his limbs, Kain pushed at the top of lid, the wood creaking as it flew open with a loud bang. He sat up from his prone position, his legs still lacking the support he needed to stand up. He took that time to examine his immediate surroundings. Unsurprisingly he found that where he happened to be was as dark as inside the coffin. Surprisingly he did find that it was quite easy for him to adjust to the lack of light, his eyes accumulating to the darkness in only a few moments.
It seems this new form has quite a few benefits. He mused, noticing his increase in raw power and usage of night vision. Kain felt an odd sensation then, a yearning for nourishment that screamed at his entire being. It told him, commanded him that he needed to seek sustenance. Almost instinctually he realized he needed blood. He was no stranger to the legends of vampires in Nosgoth, their tales passed down by even the nobles. Their lust for blood was the most common thing about them, along with their superhuman strength and powers. Sadly, it seems like he was currently only in possession of the former, the coffin lid shattered into pieces a few feet away from him. He paid it no heed, using his slowly returning strength to stand and walk a few steps. He found he was in a square space of sorts, a small hallway to the north of him leading outwards into a kind of doorway. Nothing in the room looked familiar, various pricey ornamental trinkets lining the place along with more wooden coffins, sans his family crest on the dilapidated curtains covering the wall. Kain understood that the other coffins probably held other kinsmen of his, though which he could not say. He reasoned that this was probably the family burial plot, going by its ornate size and manner of objects in the room. Seeing a familiar sheath laying nearby, the noble easily walked over to it and examined it. It was his blade, crest and all, looking none the worse for wear after his ordeal. He was surprised no one had come to steal it; it probably would have fetched a pricey sum. Then again, it would probably take someone more experienced than your regular brigand to steal into a noble family's crypt. Not that it hadn't stopped fools from trying. Taking the small sword, which was less heavy than he remembered, the vampire easily latched it onto his belt, the heirloom feeling right at home by his side. A sound other than his own footsteps made Kain raise his guard, one hand still on the hilt of his blade as he crept into the shadows behind a coffin. Voices, muffled and unclear from the distance and volume of their tone, made their presence known to his superior hearing. He wasn't too sure that they were grave robbers, but nonetheless wanted to keep his resurrection a well kept secret until it was time. It would do him no good if his pursuers knew he was still alive. At least until then, the noble wanted to keep his presence quiet. That wouldn't mean however, that he would let the brigands do as they pleased inside his family mausoleum. The voices were much clearer now, the loud clink of the metal door opening as a pair of footsteps came clambering down the dark hallway. He could smell them before he saw them, their nasty, dirt and sweat covered bodies disgusting him. The light of a torch could be seen now, evaporating a smudge of the darkness of the tomb. Their voices were no better; a low rumble of incoherent vowels that could barely be taken as words.
"'Ere it is, hm? Took ush long enou' to get inta damn place!"
Another voice answered back, their footsteps growing louder each second as they reached the center of the room. Kain just stood against the wall, using the shadows and low light to his advantage. He wanted to wait until they had their backs tuned to him, then strike. Something however, was welling up inside him, an almost animal like hunger. He could feel something calling him, able to feel the pulse of their lifeblood in their veins. Which, he realized, was something he was now lacking. He wanted the red liquid that rested in their flesh, yet he himself had no idea why. It was just there, an urge that would not leave him. He resisted the urge to just jump out at them right then and there, the trained warrior within him knowing it would be best to strike later. The two men eventually reached the area where he had once lain, the heavier of the two bending down to look at the opened coffin. It gave Kain a clear view of his backside, the vampire noble groaning to himself at the sight. What disgusting creatures these lower class humans are? I doubt that fool has had a good bath in days, if not weeks. The smaller one does not look any better groomed as well. He bemoaned, the urge to kill the two and steal their blood rising as he watched them turn the coffin over, probably hoping to find something underneath. The fat man just grumbled, his gaze turning to his companion who was more interested in the broken lid of the coffin, the wood broken and splintered into pieces across the floor.
"'Oy, lookit this. Seems like s'mones been here already." The thinner of the men commented, the torch held highly in his hand to illuminate the room. His doddering companion trudged over, the two of them so focused on the lid that they didn't notice Kain slip out of his cover behind one of the other coffins littering the room. The noble waited until he was right next to them before unsheathing his sword, the clang of metal making the two men turn around. Too late. He could see the men move before they even began to turn around, his hand tightly gripping the pommel of his blade as he thrust it into the heavyset man's back. It tore through the man easily, his back splitting open in sea of red as his flesh parted to reveal ribs and muscle. The blood red of the blade appeared out of the man's front, a small gasp of pain erupting from his lips. The vampire was transfixed by the blood running down the man's body and onto his own blade. It's crimson sheen compelled him to feast, the rational side of him attempting to hold back. The smell of the blood however, was somewhat sweet despite the man's oafish appearance, and Kain found himself quite famished. His open hand reached out to try and touch the sticky mess that was quickly falling into the stone floor and congealing into a pool of liquid at the man's feet. Power surged through his body then, an odd force that seemed to grab the liquid like an invisible current, the red liquid rushing towards the vampires face. His face freezes in shock for a moment, then Kain opens his mouth to allow the blood to enter. He nearly gags on the sheer force and amount of the liquid entering his throat, but swallows the crimson juice easily, some of it still dripping down his mouth and chin. The taste is indescribable to him, though revitalizing to his famished body. The fat man can do nothing except gurgle as his life essence is being drained from his body, Kain pulling his sword free of the man's back with a small tug. His body refreshed by the small meal, Kain then turns his attention to the thinner man, who is scrambling on the floor with an expression of pure fear. His pupils are dilated, the man's mouth opening and closing several times as he struggles to speak. Kain just stares at the pathetic fool on the ground, slowly walking toward him, his sword still covered in the other man's blood. He bends down to grab the man by his neck, his superior strength easily lifting him a few inches off of the ground. The man chokes from Kain's powerful grip, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Kain just sneers at his prey, his tone cold and mocking as he positions his blade to run the man through.
"Fool. What made you think you had a chance? Trying to steal from a noble family's crypt was your biggest mistake." Accentuating his point by stabbing the man in the heart, making sure to catch whatever blood is spilled using his odd gift. He is not sure if it is telepathy or what, but he will make use of it so that no blood is wasted. As the crimson stuff enters his mouth once again, he notices that the taste of the blood this time is different, more palatable to him. I am turning into a monster. How long before I lose all sense of rational thought? No matter; as long as those who wronged me die by my hand then I care not what happens afterward. ''Tis a bit of a sobering thought, however...Kain laments, dropping the man's drained corpse on the floor, not even wanting to bother with disposing of them as he walked toward the door they entered from. That would be someone else's job; he had more important prey to hunt.