Chapter 2: Blood and Revenge

I opened the door to my tomb and entered the mausoleum. Lying at my feet, however, was a scroll. When I examined it, I found a series of arcane runes written in a strange pattern. The only English words were at the bottom. They read:

"This spell is linked to your grave, and will allow you to return to rest if you become weak. I hope it will aid you."

I smiled. The necromancer had promised me much, it seemed. I decided to call this the "Sanctuary" spell, because of its function.

I continued through the mausoleum, until I found a gravedigger. He raised his head from his menial task and looked straight at me, then gasped. "A...a monster!" he shrieked, before raising his shovel and swinging at my head. I smashed the shovel with one punch, and then sliced the gravedigger's head off with one clean slice. A fountain of blood erupted from his body. Filled with my unholy hunger, I raised my head and allowed the blood to flow into my mouth.

My thirst quenched, I continued my way, until I was finally out of the accursed mausoleum. The first thing I noticed when I exited the cold, dark tomb, however, was the terrible feeling I felt when I entered the unforgiving light for the first time. I had not expected such cruelty, even after discovering about my curse. Then, as I continued down the path, it began to rain. As the water hit the back of my neck, I felt the flesh begin to burn and cinder. I then remembered that water is acidic to vampires, and thus ducked into a smaller tomb until the rain stopped.

I decided to explore the tomb more thoroughly. A few gravediggers tried to stop me, but they did little more than quench my appetite. Then, to my horror, I found a young woman chained to a wall, as if someone had decided to throw her into this portal to hell simply for their cruel amusement.

"Please!" she shouted. "Help me!" I admired her beauty, her flawless complexion. She was perfect in every way. That is why I did not hesitate to sink my teeth into her neck. She squirmed briefly, and then slumped lifelessly against the wall. Just a short walk away from her, though, I spied a small satchel. When I opened it, I found a series of curious devices, shaped like a three-pointed star with blades.

I remembered these objects from a weapon smith in Coorhagen. They were called flails, small throwing weapons capable of ripping the flesh clean off a man's bones. Thanking my luck for these small weapons, I pocketed them before leaving through a secret passage leading out of the cemetery.

The rain had stopped, and the clouds parted, revealing a full moon. The darkness seemed to empower me, making me stronger than I thought possible. The wind picked up a familiar stench from the woods in the distance. In life, I would have not regarded such a thing, but now, I could tell exactly what that stench was. It was the smell of my assassins.

I raised my sword in preparation. My hunger was growing again, and I had a specific meal in mind this time. I made my way into the woods, until I was right next to the source of the stench. I ducked behind a tree, and saw my assassins, all drunk and resting.

"Can you believe how easy that bastard went down?" I heard one say.

"That guy was such a wimp," said another. "We've had harder times than that."

I cursed their bragging. I had slaughtered many of their kind; they only killed me because I was stabbed from behind. They were cowards...and cowards do not deserve to live. I grabbed a tree branch and purposely snapped it in half.

The brigands looked up from their pathetic drinks. One of them picked up his sword and approached the trees I was hiding behind. His expression when he saw me was breathtaking. My sword went straight through his neck, sending his head rolling down his body.

The others rose to their feet and charged. "What matter of sorcery is this?" shouted one of them.

"We killed him once," shouted another. "We can do it again!"

Not even I can remember exactly what occurred during the carnage. Limbs flew everywhere, screams drowned out all other noise, the ground was soaked in spilled blood, and all other signs of death filled that one spot. When it was over, my assassins were dead.

I filled myself on their blood, content with the knowledge that the bastards that killed me were banished to hell. My vengeance was complete...

"Not so fast, Kain." I could hear that blasted necromancer's voice ringing in my head. "Those fools were only the instruments of your murder, not the cause. Seek out their masters. Seek out the pillars..."