by Drew Hayes
“We don’t?” I asked.
“Have you tried?”
“Why on earth would I try?” I said, a touch exasperated that she still seemed to know more about what I was than I did.
“Hmm, good point. Yes, you can’t puke. It’s one of those things you lost.”
“Oh,” I said. I didn’t mean for it to sound sad. It certainly wasn’t a great loss, the ability to void my stomach in a backwards direction, but it was yet again one more thing that made me less human. Those were becoming all too frequent for my liking.
“Cheer up, buttercup,” Krystal said as we reached the front of the line. She whispered to me before turning to Albert the attendant, “One day I’ll help you discover all of the things you’ve gained. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by a few of them. I know I will.” With that line lingering in my ear and echoing through my libido, she did an about face to speak with the young man staring up (though not quite as up as he should have been to see her face) at her.
“Krystal Jenkins and Freddy Fletcher checking in,” she said with a warm smile. It seemed to catch poor Albert off guard, as he suddenly turned flustered and began digging about for our badges. Of course, given how unfriendly everyone seemed to have been to him, I could understand why he would falter at a changeup. He was young and wore a dirty black shirt and dirtier black pants. I wasn’t sure what the organizer had made him do before this, but I only imagine it involved digging because that kid reeked of earth. Not a bad smell really, just a potent one.
He finally found our badges and handed them both to Krystal. He hesitated for a moment before letting go and looked at mine, then up at me, then back at mine.
“Is that what you’re going to wear?” Albert asked in a not-quite-squeaky, not-quite-grown-up teenage voice. Though the question was probing, his tone was surprisingly friendly.
I looked at my ensemble. I was wearing a robin’s egg blue sweater vest on top of a white buttoned-down shirt along with a pair of black slacks and sensible black shoes. I did stand out a bit compared to everyone else, but I hadn’t really been told to dress for this, now had I?
“Um, is that a problem?” I asked him.
“Not a problem, just wondering. Your character is your character,” he said, handing me a sheet of paper, then motioned me to the side so he could help the next person. “Personally, I think it’s really neat that you decided to take your costume in a different direction. You two have a great night.”
I joined Krystal a few strides away from the line. “What’s wrong with my outfit?” I asked her.
“It doesn’t fit your character so well,” she said, a wicked grin lighting up her face.
“Oh, yes, on that note, this whole event requires registration and character creation beforehand. So how is it that you just happened to have an ID badge ready for me and under my name?” I asked, really just for form. The answer was all too obvious.
“I thought this would suck, so I wanted company. Sexy, dangerous, vampire company,” she said, the laughing smile staying firmly on her face as she reached out and put her hand against my chest.
“Shhh!” I fervently whispered, welling up with panic. “What if someone hears you?”
“Check your badge there, Freddy. It’s black-print information. Everyone will know when they see you,” Krystal said, pulling her own badge out and affixing it to her shirt.
“Huh?” I said idiotically, and I looked at the front of my clothes. Sure enough, clearly slipped on there when she touched my chest, was my badge affixed carefully on the breast pocket of my sweater vest. It took me a moment to unravel its words as I read them upside down.
It said: “Name: Count Fredrick. Race: Vampire.” Then in red print below that it said: “Faction: Revivalist. “
“You made me a vampire?”
“You did say you hated pretending.”
“Are you one too?” I asked, not bothering to read her tag. Given where she had attached it on her shirt, I could see no easy way to read it without being something of a pervert.
“I’m Sunny the Succubus,” she said, her voice up a few registers and her tone lilting. She sounded like a mixed breed between the stereotype of a cheerleader and the stereotype of a valley girl.
“What’s a succubus?” I asked.
“Demon slut,” she said simply in her own voice. Ah, well then, that made the accent quite appropriate. I wondered for a moment just how much time she put into preparing for this role. This short thought process was interrupted as she took my hand once more.
“Looks like they’re almost ready to start,” she said, slipping back into her character tones. “Come on. Let’s go mingle!”
3.
“All right, everyone, thank you all for checking in,” Neil the Game Master said as he climbed back atop his soapbox to address us. Something about this kid still struck me as weird. It wasn’t the clothing or the style either; he was odd, but nowhere near the weirdest guy in attendance. It’s just something in the way he moved. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I knew it was there. I didn’t really pay that much mind to it, though. I mean, after all, I was a vampire who hid the fact that he was a vampire who was standing in a park pretending to be the thing that I usually pretend I’m not. Who was I to throw stones at weird?
“Before we begin, I just want to go over the rules on your sheets so that everyone knows the system, and we can all have fun. To start with, we do not do realistic battle simulations here. I saw some of you bring your foam weapons, but, unfortunately, we’ve had some lawsuit trouble in the past and have decided it’s not worth the risk. Any fighting will be resolved by a match of rock-paper-scissors. If you fight someone of the same race, then it will be a best 2-out-of-3 match to represent how much more difficult these fights are,” Neil said, reading from his sheet out to the crowd. I heard mumbles as a few costumed participants set down large, foam-weapon recreations on the ground, faces all but dripping in disappointment. Albert scuttled around swiftly gathering up the weapons and setting them on the folding table where the badges had been.
“Now then, aside from combat, all of you have your own powers and abilities. These are written on the backs of your badges should you forget or need to prove to another player this is a power you really possess. Success is considered automatic, unless another player has immunity to that particular ability. In cases where a player with a power deals with another player who only has a resistance to that power, and not an immunity, we will again be going to the rock-paper-scissors method of resolving who comes out on top,” Neil continued. If that made no sense to you, don’t feel bad. I was slack-jawed and flummoxed by the time he finished that part. I simply hoped I would either figure it out as I played or be gone soon enough that it wouldn’t matter.
“Last, but certainly not least, this is a Live Action Role Playing game. All of you being of different races and factions have gathered here as the new emperor of the city requested to try and forge an alliance between the various supernatural cultures living in his domain. For this to be the most enjoyable event it can be, I ask that you truly commit to your roles. Do not break character unless it is a vital emergency. In this way, we can forget the names we have behind our badges and truly immerse ourselves into tonight’s identities.” I had to admit, I was a touch envious; this kid was a better public speaker than I had ever been. I’d tried to correct that particular failing on many occasions, each an unmitigated disaster, often with gastrointestinal consequences. “And now, I’ll ask you to meet up with those of your race and faction as you arrive at the emperor’s ball. When I step down from here, the game has begun, and I am your ruler: Emperor Nikolai.”
He didn’t step down as much as hop, but the symbolism was there, and we got the message. I turned to ask Krystal what I should do now, only to find her gone. I whipped my head around looking for her, but before I could do more than look to my side, a small hand grabbed me by the shoulder.
The small hand belonged to a proportionally small woman, ma
ybe early twenties in age, wearing heavy white makeup and a long black trench coat coupled with a corset and leather pants. Her badge told me her character name was Maria, and that she was a vampire like me. The fake fangs I saw a moment later when she spoke assured me that she was definitely a vampire only while this game was in progress.
“Good evening, Count Fredrick. Our Lord Drake will be so pleased another nightwalker loyal to the cause has joined us this evening,” she said, slurring slightly due to the fangs.
“Um . . . yay, and verily I hath come?”
The look she gave me said quite clearly my vampire impression had missed the mark. Luckily for me the girl was a pro; she rolled with it well. “There is no need to imitate the high language, Count Fredrick. Clearly you were turned recently, so this generation’s tongue is your own. Speak freely and comfortably, for our Lord Drake cares nothing of cultural differences, only of loyalty and dedication. We are all equally united under our cause.”
“Okay . . . thanks. And, you know, just so I know we’re on the same page here, which cause are you talking about? I’m active in a few of them actually. I used to do walks for cancer before the whole turning thing and—”
Mercifully Maria cut me off with one finger against my lips and one pointing to the red writing on my badge that said “Revivalist.” I finally noticed she had the same writing on her own. The pieces fell into place. Well, admittedly, they were more jammed into place forcefully, but I got the point, and that was what mattered.
“Oh, yes, right! The true cause. Forgive me, I have not eaten anyone in a few days, and I’ve grown a bit muddled round the temples, if you know what I mean,” I said, thinking on my feet. I really did get foggy when I went a few days without blood, so hopefully that was a part of this vampire mythos as well.
“Of course, good Count. With the preparations for tonight’s event, all of us have been exceptionally busy. I can hardly fault you for putting the cause’s success over the needs of your own thirst. Worry not, for tonight enough blood shall flow to sate the hunger in all of our throats. But enough talk here . . . we must hurry to meet with Lord Drake. Time is already short, and even the lesser monsters have ears with which to hear,” Maria said, tugging me toward a big cluster of trees.
We went through that cluster, then through a few more, down a twisting dirt road, and then through more trees. I was making a mental note to myself to take a free night and see just how big this freaking park was when we broke into a clearing. It would have seemed like a natural clearing one might stumble into in a real forest, save for the dozen figures in makeup and the picnic table located in the center.
“Ah, my maiden Maria returns to us from her mission seeking stragglers,” said a large man wearing a velvet ruffled shirt, a leather cape, and what looked like combat boots.
“Aye, my Lord Drake, I come bearing Count Fredrick. His invitation to meet us separately from the others of our ilk was lost, so I escorted him to join us tonight,” Maria said, using her jacket to do a curtsey as she spoke. I had to give the girl credit; she was good at this. She knew I had no idea what was going on and had still managed to weave me into this story quite nicely.
“Arise, my servant,” said the large man who I could only surmise was Lord Drake. “We have much to do this eve, and so precious little time to do it.” Lord Drake turned to me. “And you, good Count, we thank you for your support. As you can see, our force is small, so we shall seek victory through strategy and cunning. A single, loyal vampire may very well be the difference between success and failure.”
Lord Drake walked back over to the picnic table and settled down his considerable heft. The other “vampires” followed suit, so I made my way over as well. I had no idea what Krystal was up to, but it seemed like my best bet was to play along and blend in until she finished her job, and we could bail.
“My dark children,” Lord Drake began. “For too long we have been forced to live this way. Feeding in secret, locked within the shadows, existing as nothing more than myth and fancy in the eyes of the cattle we call humans.” There were mumbles of agreement that rippled through the table. I myself made mumbles of non-committal curiosity. The differences are subtle, but very important.
“We have suffered much humiliation at the hands of those in charge. Worse yet, most of our kind have been domesticated. They truly believe a vampire is meant to slink and sip, instead of dominate and destroy. We are the strongest beasts here, and yet we walk as if dogs with tails between our legs, ashamed of our own power and grandeur.” The agreement was getting a touch more boisterous now. I was oddly reminded of pep rallies in high school. Everyone was getting fired up around me, yet it was abundantly clear that I was not a part of what was going on.
“And now, the final insult. A mere human trickster, a mage, being made the emperor of our sweet city. This is a blow which I fear we cannot bear. I will not bow to cattle. I will not scrape my knee to the ground for nothing more than a human with a few cantrips. That is why we gather here tonight, my dark children, so that we may carry out our plan to revive our rightful place in this world’s hierarchy.”
They weren’t mumbling anymore; they were downright cheering. The only ones who were moderately subdued were me and my guide, Maria, who just stared on with wonder and fascination in her eyes.
“Tonight, we do what should have been done long ago. Tonight we remind this world that vampires are creatures to be feared, not handled. Tonight we leave the shadows and put ourselves back on the path toward our rightful place of rulers over the cattle and the lesser monsters.” Lord Drake leaned in closely now, and the cheering died in an instant. Everyone was still as death, no pun intended, as the great Lord Drake licked his lips and let his next words fly.
“Tonight, my dark children, we kill the emperor!”
4.
“I have got to stop leaving the apartment,” I mumbled to myself as we skulked through the forest towards the main area where everyone was assembled. I mean “skulked” in a very literal way. It seems all of we Revivalist vampires had an ability to blend in with the scenery and become more or less invisible. According to the back of the badge, the way we signified this was by moving hunching over and moving carefully, as well as putting up our index fingers on both sides of our heads.
That’s right; I was hunching my way through the forest with finger horns. Somehow, when I was human and dreamed about a different kind of life, one where I was powerful and immortal, this was a scenario I had never imagined. Most of those fantasies had been cheap rip-offs of well-done films, involving me being socially gregarious as well as unstoppably cool. I couldn’t even fathom what would make someone incorporate something this asinine into their own fantasies. Still, I was supposed to blend, so blend I did.
It took us considerable time to get back to the main event, mostly because of our slow moving pace, but finally we parted a section of trees and found ourselves facing the mingling crowd and a folding table stocked with foam weapons. Lord Drake jerked his head northward, and we began our agonizing walk in that direction.
Let me tell you something: I’ve been forced to do some ridiculous things in my lifetime. I’ve put my head in the toilet for swirlies, eaten dirt, even been made to dance like a cha-cha girl on one humiliating occasion, all to avoid being beaten up. For the dickens though, I cannot imagine what would make someone willingly do what we did as we crept through the crowd. We did our hunch walk with our finger horns, skulking through them, all the while pretending they couldn’t see us. Adding to the oddness, they all clearly noticed us and wanted to know what was going on, but had to pretend we were invisible.
It was like embarrassment and stupidity, compacted. To their credit, not one person broke character and approached us, and we moved past the majority of the players into a more open area on the north side of the park. From there we could see Emperor Nikolai speaking in hushed tones to some of the other players. One of them was the person with the Charlie Brown ghost costume, and one looked to be wearing
a werewolf mask, so they were pretty obvious. The other two I recognized even more easily, though. They were Albert the Henchman and my own dear Sunny the Succubus.
I briefly wondered why she was a part of the little pow-wow, but I guessed it made sense. If you need to investigate, why not go right to the top?
None of that changed the plan, though. Lord Drake had known that Emperor Nikolai would be speaking to a few delegates at a time, with only his servant Albert as protection. I wasn’t sure what kind of monster Albert was, and I hadn’t had a chance to ask, but Lord Drake seemed pretty certain we would be able to overpower him easily. The goal here was for us to creep up on the separated few and spring into action. Each of us was supposed to do battle with one of the delegates, while Lord Drake and two of his servants took down the emperor. That way the “kill” would be assigned to Lord Drake and he would then have cause to lobby that he should be the new emperor. New emperor means he makes the rules, which means no more hiding from the humans, and yada yada yada.
The main point I had gleaned from all of that was I needed to pick a person and play rock-paper-scissors with them. Either they won, or I did. After that none of this was my problem anymore, and hopefully Krystal was ready to go.
We resumed our skulking, moving delicately, yet purposefully, toward our soon-to-be-deposed emperor. Lord Drake, Maria, and another girl broke off to circle around toward the rear where the emperor was located. The rest of us continued creeping up on our targets. Since I was near her side anyway, I locked my vision on Krystal and decided to “battle” her. I think it was because I was focused only on her that I noticed the quick gesture she made, scratching the top of her nose with her thumb. I had only an instant to ponder why she would use a thumb instead of a finger, when strange words rang through the air.
