Gryphon's Keep
Bloody Feathers
Coffre-fort pour maintenant, mais pour combien de plus long?
Hallo, everyone! Gosh, I missed you...I hope you're all doing well. Forgive me for taking such an abominably long time to update this segment...I hope my readers are still out there. Gomen nasai.
I had to think this story out a little bit before I could continue. Originally, this tale was going to be sort of short and sweet, and to the point, but now...I think I wouldn't mind adding a little plot twist of sorts. Heh. :D I very much hope you enjoy.
Also, instead of flashing back to Amity Park, we're in for someone else's perspective. Hope that's okay with you all.
Please, take care, everyone.
Quote:
"Oh I have slipped the surely bonds of earth
and danced the skies on laughter silvered wings.
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth of sun split clouds
and done a hundred things you have not dreamed of,
wheeled and soared and swung high in the sunlit silence.
And there with silent lifting mind
I've trod the high untrespassed sanctity of space
Put out my hand and touched the face of God."
"Here's your tea, sir."
"Thank you, Elizabeth."
As the maid quietly bowed before tiptoeing out the door, Vlad watched her go, close the mahogany door, then sighed before picking up the small, warm little teacup and saucer before taking a small sip. Perfect. Taking another sip, as he quite enjoyed star anise tea, he then lowered the small cup before absently returning to the computer screen waiting expectantly on the redwood desk.
Dully, he clicked on a few articles on the glowing screen, going over the latest stock interest rates of the Dalv corporation before returning to the cell phone waiting expectantly near his wrist, and carelessly made a call or two to a few of his executives, informing them of the latest trend on the stock market uprisings. Ending the call before his employees could even bid him a good evening, Vlad snapped his phone shut impatiently before too, turning to his computer, saving the progress he'd made on new documents before turning the computer off with another sigh, this one, an alleviated one.
He leaned back in his leather chair, stretching slightly before reaching for his teacup once again, and took a longer, deeper, more pensive sip. Ah. This certainly was much better. This just got so tiring, day in, day out, that the man was ready to scream at some points. So repetitive...
With a shake of his head, the man lowered his cup with a small frown, and then, checked his watch. Half past five. Hmm. He'd finished a little later then usual, but there had been more work to be done today, so he supposed bygones. At the very least, he'd have all day tomorrow off to relax for a little while. He'd done enough for a bit, so his executives could catch on with what was left.
For awhile, the man simply sat there in his office, as the hour dwindled closer to six. Glancing at his watch again, the man incredulously glanced at the door, then at his watch one more time.
Where the devil was Skulker? The hunter-specter was supposed to have returned to him by now. Supposedly, he was bagging some other creature that stalked the ghost zone to stuff before putting it in his parlor. Hopefully, it would be HIS, and not Vlad's. Lord knows Skulker had already given the man a variety of dead animals as ornaments for places like his Summer home in the Rockies...
But the man rarely cared what prey the hunter chose to target...pardoning one. His brow furrowed, and his eyes darkened.
The hunter was an abysmal one at best, considering he'd failed twice this week to fetch him Daniel Fenton. Shocking. He really ought to hire better help. Perhaps if Fright Knight was to be found, he could actually fetch the younger hybrid, and bring him to Vlad's home in Wisconsin. If matters came to worst, he'd grab the boy himself. He'd had enough of these games.
As Vlad picked up his tea with a most chilled expression, the cup began to tremble from just how hard the billionaire was squeezing it.
It had been so easy for him to envision Danny as some prototype for the perfect half-ghost child he'd always wanted. But after all these failed attempts at cloning the real thing...
...it wasn't enough, anymore. He'd had enough of waiting; enough of schemes. Enough of this ridiculous work he needed to do-after all, his fortune hadn't just been set in stone, it had been set in solid gold.
Work could wait. But the wife and son Jack stole would, could, and should not. Jasmine had betrayed him into believing that she wanted to be with him for days one end. Perhaps she could follow her Father...no. He really didn't care for the girl, but he certainly didn't want Maddie anguished over the loss of a child. He didn't care how it was done; he just wanted his wife and son. Jazz was just an addition to the package deal. He could live with that.
Vlad bent with a small frown over his desk, fingertips interlaced.
His plan was simple enough; there within lay the genius, he supposed. Capture Danny while Jack was in plain sight, disgrace the man for his failure to get his own son back in front of Maddie, then, later on, send a note to the oaf to come to a designated, isolated occasion with orders to come alone with Maddie, else Plasmius would kill Danny. Not that Vlad would do such a thing, but Jack, panicky idiot he was, would immediately do as was bidden.
He'd be ready, and clone himself. Then, while one of them kept Madeline busy, and later, incapacitated just enough so that she would neither be hurt, or be able to be involved in the battle, while Jack was killed by Plasmius' clone. Then, the real Vlad, in human-guise, could steadily leap out and 'defeat' the clone, after having 'rescued' an unconscious Danny from the evil Wisconsin's ghosts clutches.
Madeline would mourn her husband's loss, but she'd come around. After all, Vlad would risk his life for her and Danny-and actually succeed. Who would she love better?
The problem was Danny. He wanted the hybrid child, too! But there didn't seem to be a trace of either bribery or blackmail that would coax Danny to become Plasmius' apprentice. But the man must have overlooked something; some small detail that would make Danny come to him willingly. That would complete his happiness. That was all he wanted.
Perhaps instead of bringing the boy here, he ought to try going to him in Amity Park, instead. Usually, such discussions usually...well, always ended up in the two hybrids fighting, but Vlad could pick around until he found the boy's Achilles' heal. Some weakness that Vlad could exploit to bring the boy to him.
Vlad stood stiffly. He'd think about this later. For now, it was almost supper, and Skulker had not yet reported to him. Flicking open his cell, Vlad casually dialed the mainframe that was on Skulker's wrist, downloaded so the two could easily talk to one another...
...and it rung...
...and it rung...
...and it rung. No answer.
Startled, Vlad tried again. Still nothing. Had something happened?
Hand underneath his chin, Vlad wondered vaguely if Daniel had simply recaptured the ghost in his thermos, and had yet to throw him back to the Ghost Zone. This had happened before. Rolling his eyes at the incompetency of his own employees, Vlad shook his head on his way to the door, before his hand had paused on the doorknob.
But what if that wasn't the case? Skulker had left early this morning for the Ghost Zone. Today was Friday; Daniel should have been in school. And he didn't usually go after specters that were ALREADY in the Ghost Zone, save Pariah Dark.
So...if Daniel hadn't captured Skulker, why was there no signal coming through? A malfunction, perhaps? Was Skulker hunting in an area that hindered a service line? Or...
Now troubled, Vlad pondered on what exact type of prey Skulker had been hunting that day. He'd had a bright light in his green eyes-one that Vlad remembered not seeing for awhile this morning. Obviously, if it hadn't been Daniel he'd been pursuing, it had to be something grandiose, at the very least...
In a flurry of dark rings, Vlad slipped into his ghostly counterpart, and slid through the floor, making a beeline for his lab's portal. Perhaps he'd go to the hunter's lair, and see if Skulker had yet arrived. He was going to give that robotic idiot more then a reprimand if he were fooling about...
Vlad raptly knocked at the glowing door, doing his best to ignore the stuffed, deer-like creature Skulker had hung on the entranceway. Disgusting.
But nothing. Now irritated, Vlad knocked more loudly, which resulted in deep, echoing booms to reverberate throughout the large ravine Skulker had enclosed his 'fortress' in.
"Skulker? Skulker, hurry up," he complained. Certainly, the ghost had to discover at least one weakness the boy had during their battles. Just a small one would suffice.
But still, only silence greeted him.
Puzzled and annoyed, Vlad simply phased through the spectral door, looking around at the dark house the robot inhabited so regularly.
Everywhere he looked, there was the sight of emaciated, stuffed animals and beasts with wide eyes, pelts strewn about the floor to form a carpet of sorts. Vlad carelessly passed numerous wreaths of dead animals, blankets made entirely out of fur, fangs, claws, and teeth decorating frames, bones everywhere...
The sight would have driven people like Daniel's friend Ms. Manson into hysteria. Everywhere was a ephilogy of death; mink, hundreds of varieties of bears, moose, fish trophies, oxen, eagles, crows, rodents of all sizes...
From the very old creatures that Skulker had caught by the sheer fact that they were slow and weary, from the very small plucked from their nests and mothers' sides before they were given the 'prestige' of ending up in this menagerie of empty bodies and wings that would no longer fly. But Plasmius simply passed each blank eyed creature staring while seeing nothing with a small, disdainful look before the specter accidentally ran into something.
Startled, Vlad let out a soft grunt and a scowl as he glided back slightly, and rubbed irritably at his face before turning a fierce glare into whatever he'd bumped into.
Anger died almost immediately, as shock readily dilated red orbs. The air in the man's lungs were promptly knocked out of his lungs, as his mouth dropped softly.
"Butter biscuit..." he whispered, incredulously drawing a hand to the soft plumage of the stationary creature in front of him with a startled gasp.
Had the creature been alive, Vlad knew his arm would have been snapped in two for such an offense made as to actually touch it. Still shaking his head, Plasmius drifted around the lifeless creature, still speechless.
It was a gryphon. A true, actual gryphon, and Skulker had caught one. The hybrid had thought that they'd all been extinct, by now. Vlad had to bend his head slightly to look completely upwards at the enormous, raven-like creature, its eyes staing lifelessly back at his.
Just how long ago had Skulker captured this beast? Gryphons used to be the equivalent of dragons in...the time before, as the Ancients claimed to say, whatever that meant. Their beaks were just as sharp as...
Vlad slowly drifted up, and ran a gloved hand around Kunzite's beak to confirm what his spectral books had dictated. Yes...it was true. As pointed as a dagger, and as sharp as a railroad spike. His fingers brushed past the enormous beak, trailing down to the neck.
Gryphons were sentient creatures-as intelligent as any human could be, or, as the book would daresay, magnificently more intelligent...though their immense pride was so often their undoing.
They devoured several pounds of meat a day, but the nobilist faction of the species were often far too stuck up to actually attack humans' livestock for their meat, or, barring that, the humans themselves. Certainly, they had a tremendous faction for holding a grudge, and would declare war on humans in some cases, robbing the corrupt nobles who had sent their knights out to destroy the gryphons' eggs. Once they'd finished tearing off the nobles' heads and feasted upon their flesh, they often seized the beautiful estates left behind to raise their young in.
So many of the 'savage' gryphons had spurned this heartily, and continued to mock those of their kind that primarily spent their time hunting and pondering and raising their young instead of pursuing the rush that came from attacking villages, and devouring people alive. But one by one, as people turned to more and more desperate matters to protect themselves and their property, they sprayed poison on themselves and their livestocks that would kill the gryphon in question trying to eat them, who was often too driven by the call of his own belly and stupidity to really note that the humans smelled like acid and dead plants.
Traps were laid out. The gryphons' nests were ambushed. Sleeping mates were attacked. And thus, when so many of the wild kind cried out for a bloodthirsty revenge, the villages had gathered together in a pact to be ready for them. The king's knights were called in, and every weapon that could be spared or crafted was thus brought forth.
One by one, the gryphons had swooped from the sky, screeching. And though many a soldier's life had been extinguished, the birds continued to plummet down. But even the very last one, surrounded by swords, wing bleeding exceedingly, had gone blindly charging forwards to its death.
Vlad shook his head as he examined the bird's razor blade like talons.
What those knights and fools never realized until an alchemist came to the battlefield of the slaughtered gryphons to experiment on their pigmentation was precisely what they held. Had any common mortal known about it, every young fool of the valley would have been creeping up to attempt to hunt a gryphon...and probably be horribly mangled in the process.
Vlad had read this passage in his book so many times that the book's crease automatically opened to that particular page whenever he was in the mood to browse over it:
"-and such that it is, that while nobody can truly know whether the Hûthvír's talle can actually be proven correct concerning the theory of the Gryphon's evolution, or whether or not the alchemist Lydia had indeed succeeded in creating the species by a mixture of potent sorcery and science, but one thing has thus been proved, that when the inexplicable evil of slaughtering such majesty is done, with a few choice words, the whole heart pulled from the Gryphon's ribcage will-
Vlad started as a coil of dread and realization struck him.
"THAT FOOL!"
In his rage, Vlad struck out at Kunzite, who swung alarmingly before swaying back onto its awkward perch. But Vlad, eyes a bloody, brilliant red, neither noticed nor cared.
A gryphon's heart...did Skulker merely discard it, with the flesh? That was worse-far worse- then continuously discarding sapphires over a cliff for twenty years! But it wasn't the worth of the organ that concerned Vlad-though he knew that many in the ghost zone would pay a dear fealty to receive. But it was hardly money that interested him. He'd certainly had enough of that.
There were so very many uses of the Gryphon heart...one use was to devour it, and thus, undergo a terrifyingly painful malady that would nonetheless transfix you into immortality. But Vlad had only heard of three people of legend who did such a thing, one threw himself over a cliff to die, one stabbed himself over the mortification that he had outlived his entire family, and one had been walled up alive. No...Vlad didn't want THAT usage for it, oh, no.
Perhaps Skulker had still kept it...in a jar? Sometimes he kept the brains or kidneys of creatures particularly hard for him to bring down, nauseating though it was. Maybe he kept the heart?
Possessed of that hope, Vlad hurriedly glided away from Kuzite's stationary body and those of the dead chicks scattered about him to an enormous cupboard that contained an article of organs. Perhaps the ghost had kept just ONE...
Jars shattered to the floor, brine spilling everywhere as mucated flesh lay discarded, veins cold as Plasmius impatiently broke jar after jar after miserable jar.
No. No. No, no, no, no!
He had to bite back a shriek of anger as he let the last jar-one containing a gazelle's swollen right lung-fall to the floor.
They were all either too big or too smile, and he'd seen the diagram of a gryphon's heart to know that none of these detestable organs were one! THE IDIOT! HE WAS GOING TO STRANGLE SKULKER WHEN HE-
...?
Vlad's eyes alighted on a small book resting on a pedestal nearby, and this momentarily stemmed the flow of the specter's fury, if only for a moment. Since when did Skulker read?
Still sulking, still furious, he drifted over, and carelessly pulled out a small strip of cow stomach that was acting as a bookmark for the page Skulker had been re...no...
Vlad had to squint to make out the words on the faded cream sheet of paper. Hmph. Skulker's handwriting was abominable at best...
After passing through a list of dead animals Skulker prously had taken down, along with a small journal entry, Vlad raised an eyebrow. Was this a log, of sorts? He never guessed that the hunter had one, though he supposed he ought to have known. The ego-maniac hardly found it enough to ghang up hunting trophies as it was...
He scanned the date, which, to his surprise, had just been that morning. He must have written it just this morning.
-and, so, I will have to try doing embroidery WITH the bunnies then without. But never mind that...
hAve fOUnd thAt sTuPid, overBlowN bIRD at LaSt. TOOk her By suRPRise, and NeARly stabbeD her TO dEath. SHe's makinG a rUn foR thE hUman worlD, but I woN'T let HeR go ThIS time. ShE's bleeding, And wHile I'D RaTHEr kiLL hEr mySelF, I doN't mind if thE laST gRyPhon dies FaCing me as A bloody CarCaSS.
So, Skulker had pursued her...but he'd never came back. Had the bird destroyed him or eluded him?
Vlad desperately hoped that it was the latter. He still needed Skulker, as he did have his useful connections, but to have the blasted bird's heart...
He smiled, ivory fangs glinting in the dark.
It would only be too perfect. He'd tear that writhing bird's heart out if it meant winning Madeline's...and Daniel's. The heart was authenticated for having extreme supernatural ties...but what it could do in the hands of someone with prestige as high as his own...
Vlad's fingers twitched, dreaming of wrenching the heart out of its confines with a small, curved smile.
That heart would give him what he most desired...at some price he was probably quite sure he could pay. After all, he'd-
The man broke out of his reverie for a moment as a loud ringing sound reverberated throughout the small lair. Confused, Plasmius suddenly remembered his phone, and hurriedly flicked it on. Perhaps Skulker had already hunted down the beast, but hadn't skinned it just yet. Vlad hoped he hadn't, in any case...
"Hello?"
But to his surprise, it wasn't Skulker's voice that answered him at all. Vlad's neck prickled as a sob was heard echoing through the phone...belonging to a voice that was all too familiar to him...
"Madeline?" he asked anxiously, tugging at the collar of his starkly alabaster suit.
"M-Maddie, I..."
He paused. It was obvious that Maddie was crying, but whyever for?
