30 June 1897.
The first night of their train travel started off awkwardly. Although Guren had superhuman strength, he couldn't budge the lid of the crate concealing him. Considering how easily he'd popped the lid off his coffin when he first awoke as a vampire, it was clear he'd been firmly sealed or buried under something. It was large enough for an adult man to crouch in, but it didn't have much wiggle room. He struggled on his own for several minutes until he heard talking outside around him.
Recognizing Lacus and René's voices, he called out to them, and they removed the cargo which had been placed on top of his crate. Clearly, their crates hadn't ended up in the same unfortunate predicament as his.
"Awww," cooed Lacus with a teasing grin once Guren had finally managed to stand up. "Our poor baby! We even marked his crate as 'fragile,' and he still got stuck!"
Guren glowered at him. René looked at Lacus but never spared Guren so much as a glance once he had been freed.
Unfortunately, as they had chosen a freight train instead of a passenger train, their meals were limited to the crew and the humans near the freight yards.
That night, Guren accidentally killed one of the train's crewmembers while drinking his blood. Lacus explained how to bite the vein without injuring the artery in a more condescending tone than necessary while René disposed of the corpse. Guren paced for hours as he fought against the raging monster of thirst consuming his thoughts. In the end, he swooped down on an elderly homeless woman resting in a freight yard the train had stopped in for one night. Thanks to the dearth of moonlight, she saw naught but a flash of movement before being overwhelmed by ecstasy as her life faded into oblivion.
Embarrassed by his gluttonous behavior, Guren wiped the blood from his mouth as he pretended he did nothing wrong. Both Lacus and René each shot him a discerning gaze. In the end, Lacus took his turn to clean up after their "baby," and René took the chance to give Guren some pointers.
What exactly had René's "pointers" consisted of?
"You can bite them anywhere as long as you don't kill them, you dullard," said René in a scathing tone. "Even if it's not their necks, wherever is fine as long as they don't die. Even bite them on the feet if you have to."
Guren decided he preferred the silent René to the one who gave him "advice."
On the second night, all three of the "fragile" crates had been loaded properly, so Guren was able to get out on his own. Even so, could Lacus let the issue be?
Apparently not.
"Aww, our little baby managed to get out of his bed all on his own tonight!" he jeered, nudging René with his elbow. "He's almost like a big kid now!"
Although Guren's unstable emotions suddenly gave him the urge to rip Lacus's throat out (as if it would be anything more than a temporary inconvenience to a vampire), he kept them in check and only responded by giving Lacus a flat look, proving that Guren's sense of self-control was growing every night.
Unfortunately, the instinct to tear into the supple neck of his prey to satisfy his craving for blood proved to be too strong once again. Later on, Guren lurched toward a young crewmember, sinking his teeth into the boy's neck and drinking him dry. Beginning to feel ashamed, Guren let the lifeless body of a skinny boy fall limply to the ground. He had meant to bite the wrist, so why had he gone for the jugular…?
Cringing from his lack of discipline, Guren refused to look at the undoubtedly accusatory expressions of his two companions.
With a sigh, Lacus and René dragged Guren along this time to dispose of the corpses. They languidly explained the best ways to do it. Of course, Guren already knew several excellent methods for making sure a corpse was never found or, at least, could never be identified. Even so, he gave in and let the two vampires lecture him anyway—or, at least, let Lacus chatter on and on. René never seemed to talk much.
On the third night, Lacus and René left Guren to take care of the corpses on his own. When the train stopped to exchange its goods in a freight yard, Guren leapt off to go hunting. Fortunately, he was of sound mind to at least avoid hunting too closely to the train, so the conductor and other staff might not realize just how many people were dying along their route, even if a few of their crew had gone missing already.
On his way back, he noticed Lacus carrying away a body and shot him a questioning look.
Lacus shifted his eyes away, hinting at some a nearly forgotten vestige of shame.
"It's really hard to stop drinking when they taste so good sometimes, you know?" he mumbled under his breath. Even so, Guren's excellent hearing had been enough to detect his words.
Guren's eye twitched. If these experienced vampires still occasionally screwed up and killed their prey, then why were they giving him such a hard time?
He vowed to show the bastards his excellent skills the following night.
On the fourth night, Guren managed to drink the blood of another homeless woman, this one much younger than his first, without killing her. When choosing to drink the blood of a man or that of a woman, women appealed far more to him. The erotic moans she made while beneath him excited him and almost made him bite too deeply again, but he managed to exert some self-control in the end unlike the previous woman he'd attacked.
Lacus examined her body.
"Not bad, not bad! She fainted from the anemia, but she's still breathing! Congratulations! You've left a live one!" said Lacus with a mocking cheer.
Guren narrowed his eyes at him, recalling Lacus's demonstration of "self-control" the previous night.
Seemingly getting the message Guren was hinting at, Lacus broke eye contact with him and minutely coughed into his fist.
"Now then," continued Lacus, returning the conversation to Guren, "you just need to order her to forget everything that happened tonight. She should already be under your control. Even if she breaks free from your command later on, she'll just think this was a dream. You could also make her think she fell asleep early tonight, and that's why she doesn't remember anything."
Leaning next to her ear, Guren gave the following command in a deep voice: "Forget everything that happened tonight. You just had a bad dream."
Lacus snickered.
"Well, it might have been a good dream for her. It's not uncommon for people to voluntarily become prey because they enjoy being bitten so much," he said smugly.
Guren opted not to think too hard about that statement.
On the fifth night, Guren had finally succeeded in hunting on his own. His prey survived.
On the sixth night, Lacus and René let Guren hunt without supervision.
"Our baby's gotten so big," teased Lacus, "that we're actually going to leave him on his own tonight! Let us know if anything happens, okay, Little Guren?"
Guren, once again, managed to suppress his urge to rip Lacus's throat out. He convinced himself it wasn't worth it. Besides, if he attacked Lacus, then wouldn't René step in and make it two-against-one? Besides that, Guren's control and elegance with this form might've impressed a human but was quite clumsy when compared to his seniors. In a one-on-one fight, he would only stand a chance by performing an ambush or using advanced weaponry.
Unfortunately, he didn't have any grenades on his person.
On the seventh night, Guren finally awoke to the refreshing scent of the channel. They had finally, after one very long week, reached Calais, France.
René was already up and had opened the door of their covered goods wagon.
It was the night of the new moon, making it awfully dark outside for a human if not for the occasional lamps lighting the way in the city. Even so, none of them had any trouble seeing. Guren's eyes were quite relieved by the lack of light, and, for the first time since he became a vampire, he could keep them wide open without any discomfort. He hoped that photosensitivity would continue to diminish over the coming days.
Guren inhaled the fresh, moist air, letting it run over his tongue as he stretched his stiff limbs and stepped out of the crate.
"Ahem, ahem," came Lacus's muffled voice, calling his companions to attention.
Guren looked around him, searching for the origin of the voice.
"Even though my crate was marked as 'fragile,' they appeared to have buried me under something," said Lacus, his voice irritated. "Stupid humans. Can't trust them to do their damn jobs right."
Ironically, Lacus found himself in the same situation as Guren had on the first night. A coy smile made Guren's lips curl up with vindictive joy before he realized his self-control over his emotions slipped again, and he bent his smile down into a frown. How could the mighty poker-faced Guren fall into uninhibited chortling at the capricious whims of karma? He had an image to protect, after all.
Even so, he couldn't help but feel smug.
"In other words," replied Guren cruelly as he walked toward a pile of boxes, crates, and supplies, "you're trapped down below with no way to tease me for being a baby, and René and I can finally have a peaceful and quiet night for once."
"Mhm," agreed René with a nod of his head. "It has already been a week, so the others should be here already. We might as well head on over to the city to grab a bite and then proceed from there."
One uneasy pause later, and Lacus boisterously released his opinion on the matter.
Several smacking sounds came from inside the crate as Lacus hit it without restraint.
"Hey! Hey!" he shouted abruptly. He was trapped hopelessly beneath supplies, and even his vampiric strength was not great enough to heft them off him. Even if he wasn't as gluttonous as Guren, he still liked to drink fresh blood every night. "You can't just leave me here! I'm thirsty, too! Come on! I'd save you if you got stuck in a crate, you know! Have you no sense of loyalty? You miscreants! I even saved Baby Guren once already!"
Lacus continued rambling on for several seconds more, clearly defining himself as the chattiest member of their unfortunate undead trio.
René turned toward Guren and shrugged. A faintly amused smile turned up the corner of his lips. The pair then used their superhuman strength to rearrange the transport goods and finally free Lacus.
Once they did so, Lacus sat in his box, legs and arms crossed childishly. He gazed up at them. Although he was pouting, a glimmer of amusement sparkled from his carmine eyes.
"That wasn't funny, you guys. It's rude to prank your elders, you know?" complained Lacus, trying his hardest to glare at the other two instead of laughing.
"Pranking? Who was pranking?" asked René with a serious expression. "This was a matter of grave convenience."
Lacus let his mouth fall open in an exaggerated expression as if he were truly offended.
It seemed like he only ever spoke to ridicule or to scold, but Guren was relieved to not be on the receiving end of his snarky remarks for once. René always gave the impression he didn't like Guren, but Guren came to realize he essentially had that attitude toward anyone who wasn't Lacus. This made him more tolerable.
Lacus, the more playful one, was much friendlier toward Guren, making it easier for Guren to cooperate with him. Unfortunately, he had one glaring flaw in his outlook which would prevent him from assisting Guren with his objective: this vampire genuinely viewed humans as livestock and scorned them even more than René. Humans were nothing more than pigs or cattle to him, which may be why he occasionally floundered and accidentally killed his prey even after all his years of experience. Although Guren himself had an obscene urge to sink his fangs into their flesh and had certainly killed hundreds when he was human, if not more, for no other reason than greed, he still recalled his origins and his plan.
Given their nature, Guren had already determined these two monsters would not help him accomplish his objective, and he needed to extricate himself from their company sometime after arriving in England.
Since Guren injured Chess to the point of blowing her body into pieces before, he had a long way to go before he would be allowed much freedom. Looking back now, he still felt conflicted about his decisions. If things had gone as planned, and Yu had obediently separated from Mika as he was told, then he probably would have survived. Although he would have been forced to witness Guren's death in order to give Guren an alibi, he would have been left alone and allowed to live his life as he pleased. Heck, he could even have left the Hiragi if he chose. This far away from England, their influence was limited; escaping from their grasp was not impossible.
Instead, Yu chose to do the most unreasonable thing and was glued to Ferid's prided pet like a lover. Worse yet, he insisted on saving that pitiful thing and earning the count's antipathy. Sure, Mika was pretty like a jewel—beautiful to look at but hard and cold. No matter how attractive he was, wasn't survival more important?
Worse yet, Ferid had declared that Mika belonged to him time and time again, antagonizing Yu even further and setting a fire to his mule-headed stubbornness and making him cling onto Mika more than ever.
If Yu had parted from that human like he was told, then he would be spared from Ferid's wrath (probably). After all, Guren had already made deals with him… Just once, why couldn't that kid have done as he was told?
If Guren knew Yu would become so attached, then he never would have encouraged him to get to know Mika better. Instead, he would have endured Yu's obnoxious boredom or even sent him away. He originally planned for Yu to receive some protection from Mika once the count's ward became a vampire (Ferid's intentions were obvious to anyone with half a brain), but the costs exceeded the benefits if he instead gained the ire of one of the greatest vampires in this part of the world. It was definitely not worth it. This had quickly become the second greatest regret of Guren's life.
If not for the greatest regret in his life, he would never have come chasing after vampires in the first place.
Lacus leapt out of the crate, moving and landing with far more grace than Guren. He clearly knew how to use his body well and had adapted to the vampiric changes long ago.
Guren glowered in resentment for a moment before relegating his expression to a plain one.
He had a lot of work to do to make up for his blunder when he attacked Chess, so he needed to behave himself properly—at least, until they neared London.
Lacus stretched merrily and took a moment to straighten out his gray hair and clip it back.
"Alrighty, Guren," he said, returning to business. "You know where we're meeting the others, right? Lead the way!"
Thirst scratched the inside of Guren's throat like a relentless infection. Although his mouth was painfully dry, he understood their priorities. He nodded, and soon the three reached the Tour du Guet, a massive watch tower on the Places d'Armes. They chose to meet up here because the tower was large enough to be seen from anywhere in the town. Of course, the vampires could also use the top of the tower as a vantage point.
It was no surprise when Crowley, Chess, and Horn suddenly appeared as if melting from the darkness. Thanks to Guren's tender loving care, Chess had now grown to the size of a young teenager, although her figure was still disappointing when compared to the mature shapeliness of her adult form.
When Chess made eye contact with Guren, she snorted at him and crossed her arms while looking away.
Guren ignored her.
"Where's Ferid?" he asked after doing a head count.
"Probably stalking Mika," quipped Lacus a second later.
"He's stalking Mika," answered Horn and Crowley simultaneously. Horn's expression was annoyed while Crowley's was more sheepish. Chess just appeared tired, and Lacus rolled his eyes. René just had his usual bored expression with heavy shadows under his eyes.
Guren raised an eyebrow. He knew Ferid was… extremely fond of Mika, but just how obsessed had he been to annoy a pack of immortal predators to this degree?
More importantly, just what kind of bizarre love triangle with hellish ghouls had Yu gotten mixed up with?
Guren wasn't sure he really wanted to ask, but, before he could, an unfamiliar person approached the group from the city.
He walked slowly, at the pace of a human, letting the street lamps make curious shadows of him across the ground. Although his ears were hidden by his hat and hair, his glittering red eyes clearly identified him as a vampire.
He had straight, white hair that brushed his shoulders, a top hat, a cane, and so much pomp in his strut that he practically screamed his being the scion of a noble line. He was at least as gaudy as Guren but a hundred times more arrogant, which, even Guren had to admit, was saying something. Merely looking at him made Guren cringe with immediate dislike.
And then, he grimaced when he realized he was still reacting to everything far more than he should.
"Good evening. Aren't you lot awfully close to England for a midnight stroll?"
"Good evening, Lucal Wesker," replied Crowley dryly.
"That is Lord Wesker, if you don't mind," said the unfamiliar vampire as he tartly tapped his cane against the street.
Crowley made a noncommittal sound. His lack of enthusiasm was palpable.
"At any rate, this is not the most private location for us to converse," said Lucal, practically carrying a conversation on his own. None of the other vampires appeared happy by his arrival, and they silently let him just keep talking. "Follow me."
Although Crowley appeared as relaxed as usual, Guren noticed the other four vampires were watching the dapper undead more closely than usual. Taking the hint from their behavior, Guren kept his guard up. When the group followed Lucal Wesker, Guren maneuvered his way to the middle of the group, hoping the other bodies would act as buffers for him if a fight broke out. Lucal was clearly as delighted to greet them as they were to be greeted by him, which implied a fight could break out at any moment. Although Guren's strength was far superior to a human's, his skill was comical when compared to these monsters.
"Now, now," began Lucal, turning around at the last streetlamp at the edge of the city and letting it sharply demarcate his silhouette. "Moving such a large group so close to Lord Lest Karr's territory is awfully suspicious, don't you agree? I must ask what exactly you think you're doing."
"We are moving to England. Fer—Ah, Count Bathory has already sent a letter to Lord Karr," answered Crowley slowly.
"Then, why haven't I heard of anything?" asked Lucal venomously.
"Um…" Crowley turned to his comrades. His expression gradually grew more uncertain. "Ferid really wrote that letter, didn't he?"
"Well, this is Ferid we're talking about," muttered Lacus, eyes downcast. "He is awfully fickle."
"He did," answered Horn confidently, crossing her arms under her large bosom. "I mailed it for him."
"Well," said Crowley, turning back toward Lucal, "Ferid wrote the letter and Horn mailed it, so there was definitely at least one letter. I think Ferid also checked with him months ago. In that case, if you didn't hear about it, wasn't that because Lord Karr didn't notify you?"
If Guren's heart had been beating, he was sure it would've stopped then. He felt like his stomach had dropped. Wasn't Crowley being a little too blunt? What if this vampire were as dangerous as Ferid? If that were the case, then did they even stand a chance against him, no matter how many of them there present?
Lucal's scarlet eyes twitched under his top hat, and Guren was now close enough to see that his eyes were lined with heavy dark make-up.
Noticing his stare, the irritated vampire shot his gaze to Guren and looked him up and down.
Icy fear dripped over Guren as he realized he may have offended this vampire. Assuming every vampire he met was stronger than he was, this was not in his favor.
"Nonsense!" snapped Lucal, turning back to Crowley and baring his fangs. "Of course, he would have notified me! I am important to him… Speaking of which, isn't that a newborn?" he asked, pointing a finger accusingly Guren. "You dare enter his territory with a newborn? His eyes haven't even changed yet! Except for the teeth and ears, he looks like that wretched cattle plaguing the streets."
Although feeling quite offended, Guren didn't know what Lucal was talking about, so he kept his mouth shut.
"A vampire's irises turn red about a year or so after the vampirism sets in," said Crowley, kindly answering Guren's unspoken questions. "At just a glance, anyone can tell that they're newborns, and their power is awfully unstable. They often have to drink frequently, sometimes even more than once a night, so they tend to attract a lot of unwanted attention from the humans… Of course, these young ones still closely resemble their original human forms in appearance, so they have an easier time blending in with their human acquaintances than the rest of us."
In other words, Guren's eyes were still violet? Since he could hardly see his faded reflection, he wished someone would have mentioned that detail earlier.
"They are nothing but trouble," stated Lucal scathingly, "and you are planning on bringing one to Lord Karr's doorstep!"
Crowley smiled sadly. "He's a local, so it can't be help—"
Lucal snapped his fingers. "I've had enough of this! Esther!"
Guren noticed something out of the corner of his right eye and turned just in time to see Horn bisect an unfamiliar bearded vampire, her blond curls whipping around her head. Apparently, that bearded man was Esther, and his attack had failed as abruptly as it began. The torso of Horn's would-be assailant fell to the ground with his intestines trailing out behind him. A pair of bottle cap sunglasses fell from his face. His bottom half was lying uselessly against the ground several feet away, and the area was splattered with his thick, dark blood.
Guren turned his gaze back to the man's squirming torso.
Horn stomped one heeled shoe into his back, and Guren heard the crack of bones and rupture of tissue. The bearded vampire coughed blood, but he didn't struggle anymore.
Shifting his line of sight upward, Guren noticed Horn's right arm looked suspiciously like a blade. Although he was not certain, he could swear the limb had grown longer and narrow, turning a metallic gray, and glinting wickedly in the light. He blinked and then saw the metal melt into tissues and shrink as Horn's arm replaced it.
His eyes widened. Just how quickly could she change her shape? Did this mean that vampires could change their forms into more than just animals?
Horn kept her twitching, bisected prisoner pinned and looked to Crowley for instruction.
"So, that's Esther, huh? Shouldn't you take better care of your servants?" asked Crowley seriously.
Lord Wesker looked at them with a flabbergasted expression. His mouth hung open and gaped as if he did not believe what he had seen.
Although Guren had grown numb to gore after his many human years of slaughtering and torturing his enemies, this violent carnage was somehow marked by a beauty he had never experienced when he was alive. If his heart still beat, he would have expected it to thump with anticipation.
If killing vampires was such a delight, then how would using his newfound, and steadily growing, powers to crush humans in battle feel?
Although part of him yearned to experience, another part of him feared it.
What exactly had the realm of vampirism introduced him to?
NOTES: "Covered wagon" is British for "boxcar."