The Vorbing

by Stewart Stafford

  “Very well,” Vlad said. “Nice talking with you, forgive me if I do not give you a goodbye kiss.”

  NeverMind blew a raspberry. Vlad wiped the spittle off his face, but when he aimed a punch at NeverMind, its lips closed tight and Vlad’s fist hit solid tree bark.

  “Big mouth,” Vlad said, as he tried to shake the pain from his sore hand.

  Vlad began to move away and looked back to see NeverMind sticking its tongue out at him. Vlad laughed to himself and left, shaking his head in disbelief.

  Night was starting to fall again, and Vlad began to feel uneasy. He knew the vampires were coming for him soon. He heard a screeching sound beside him and it startled him for a moment until he saw that it came from some small bats emerging from a cave nearby. He thought it was a good hiding place. While it was probably a dead end in there, he figured the noise of the bats and the whiff of their droppings would conceal his movements and scent from the vampires and their werewolf allies.

  He started to walk towards the cave when he stopped dead in his tracks. The dominant roar of Deadulus echoed down from Vampire Mountain. Even though Vlad had heard that warning cry all his life, he never got used to it, and it always gave him an anxious knot in his stomach. It would not be long before the vampires found him again. Vlad heard the distant beat of their wings. It was distant at first, but it got louder gradually. It was time to get off the road.

  Vlad made his way through the murky undergrowth with all the urgency of a condemned man who was late for his own hanging. Blinded by fear, Vlad progressed through the foliage and found a subterranean cave in which to hide. He quickly entered the moist atmosphere of the cave and started probing deeper into the dark recesses to find refuge from the colossal airborne beasts pursuing him. His advance halted when a familiar sniffing sound told him that the vampires had found the cave. They had congregated outside and clearly were awaiting the arrival of Deadulus. The beating of a pair of enormous wings gave away who had landed, and animated whispering ensued. There followed a scratching sound as the vampire’s claws clambered from rock to rock. Closer and closer they came. Vlad bit his lip and held his breath. Eventually, they stood right outside the crack in the wall where Vlad was hiding. Vlad held his breath and closed his eyes, praying to God for a miracle. Everything went eerily silent, and Vlad opened his eyes.

  He saw a green eye peering at him through the crack. Terrifying roaring began outside the crevice. Deadulus tried to gain entry, putting his head through the crack and roaring at Vlad. The young man picked up a rock and smashed it into the NightLord’s face. Howling in agony, Deadulus fell backwards out of sight. Vlad’s heart pounded in his chest, as his mind raced to try to find a way out of the dead end. He began to dig at the wall behind him. Vlad pounded desperately on the wall with whatever rocks and stones he found. A screeching sound at his ear made him drop everything. Something leapt out of the corner of his eye, and without thinking, Vlad’s hands shot out to protect him. He found his hands gripping the wings of a large vampire bat.

  It sought to grip on to his clothes and gain a foothold to concentrate its efforts on Vlad’s neck. It repulsed Vlad even more, seeing the peculiar fusion of reptile and rodent up close. There was the bat’s twitching head with its rat-like face, moist mouth and nose, and those staring red eyes. It was all incredibly alien-looking to the human eye. Vlad managed to get enough of a grip to batter the creature against the wall. When he had dazed it sufficiently, Vlad threw it out to where the vampires crouched. “You will have to do better than that, Deadulus,” Vlad shouted triumphantly.

  A sight then greeted his eyes that made him regret his moment of defiant bravado. Deadulus had manipulated his entire head through the crack in the cave wall. Before Vlad reacted, it had advanced to where Vlad stood. Vlad’s mouth hung open at the vampire’s uncanny contortion of his physical frame. Amazement rapidly turned to terror as Deadulus continued his sadistic trek toward the cornered young man. Vlad once again began to pound the cave wall with anything close by while keeping an eye on the vampire’s position. As the NightLord approached Vlad’s leg, he opened his mouth, ready to vorb on his blood. Vlad detected the slimy, sharp teeth against his leg as he hammered at the stubborn object. A swift kick to the vampire’s head bought Vlad a few vital seconds. A small hole appeared in the wall. Vlad quickly made it a large crater by charging into it with his shoulder. The vampire’s teeth got a grip on Vlad’s ankle. Vlad shook himself free and clambered through the hole. His strenuous activity had dislodged the already fragile wall, and it came crashing down on the NightLord’s head. Vlad laughed at his muffled yells as he escaped.

  Young Ingisbohr pressed on through the semi-darkness of the cave. The direction of the wind was the only thing guiding Vlad as it gently blew through the passageway. He stumbled over something and fell on top of it. Vlad found the vacant eye sockets of a skeleton peering back at him, and he recoiled in horror. As he stared at the skull for a moment to catch his breath, his legs were pulled from under him, and he felt himself being dragged along the ground. One of the vampires had found an opening in the passageway, extended his arm beyond its normal length, and grabbed the young man’s leg. The claw pulled him toward steadily toward a tiny opening in the wall. Vlad tried to dig his heel into the ground to slow down his advance, but to no avail. When the hand had pulled him in line with the hole, there was silence.

  The vampire’s head emerged from the hole and reared up above Vlad

  ready to strike. Vlad managed to grab one of the bones from the skeleton and held it in front of himself. The creature rained down pounding blows on Vlad with its head. The young man managed to jam the femur in the creature’s mouth. The vampire released its grip, screaming in agony as blood gushed from its pallet and tongue. It tried to dislodge the bone from its mouth by swinging its head from side to side. Vlad procured a boulder from up the passageway. He raised it above his head and brought it crashing down on the creature’s temple. Blood squirted over Vlad’s face. Several more enormous blows from Vlad brought the struggle to a quick conclusion. Vlad collapsed against the cave wall, wiping the blood from his face as his chest heaved from the exertion. The vampires roared furiously on the other side of the wall. They began pounding the wall to try to get at Vlad, but he was not going to stay there long enough to get caught. The young man resumed his dark quest to escape the cave.

  Vlad eventually came to a bubbling pool. He dropped a stone in to test

  the depth. It seemed shallow enough. He put his hand in to gauge the temperature. Again, it seemed favourable. A distant sound in the passageway persuaded him to push onward. He hopped into the pool and began wading through it. As he walked, he felt something nip his leg. Then, he felt his other leg being nipped. Vlad danced through the water in pain as he felt bite after bite on his legs. The vicious biting stopped, leaving Vlad’s skin throbbing and bleeding. While he felt a slight relief, at least he had known where his attacker or attackers were when they were biting him. He had no idea where they had disappeared to, nor what they were planning next, and that worried him even more. After a second’s pause, Vlad began to move forward again, but a bone-crunching blow to his chest sent him flying backward. Vlad lay dazed in the water for a moment, swallowing copious quantities of it in the process. He jumped up, coughing and spluttering. Then, the pain in his chest hit him, and he drew in massive breaths. Vlad strained to see, and detected something dark brown moving in the water. He was not going to wait to verify whether it was a threat or a trick of the light. Vlad waded through the water and accelerated with every step. After a couple of steps, he tripped and fell forward into the pool. Something had wrapped itself around his leg and was dragging him underwater.

  Vlad held on with a desperate death grip, but the rocks were slippery, and his fingers slid off them. He fell back into the pool. Bubbles from his mouth obscured his view underneath the muddy water. He felt something sticking into his side. Vlad reached down and found it was a sharp tree branch. He stabbed his attacker with it
straight away. The creature released him from its grip. Vlad shot to the surface and struggled to get out as he gasped for air. A giant serpent-like creature rose from the water, and with its jaws gaping, it went for Vlad again. Vlad managed to grab it by the throat before it delivered its lethal bite. Its salivating vertical jaws snapped repeatedly in front of Vlad’s eyes. The jaws opened wider as it began to get the upper hand. The monster was readying itself for the kill when a roar from the passageway made it raise its head.

  Deadulus and two other vampires stood watching the deadly duel. Vlad threw the serpent towards the vampires. As he splashed through the end of the pool, he listened to the titanic battle raging between the vampires and the resident reptile. They were fighting for a prize. That prize was dinner, and Vlad was it. He had advanced twenty feet up the tunnel when an abrupt silence signalled the end of the duel. Vlad stopped for a moment to drink in the implications and then hurried onward. There was a swirling mass moving up the passageway towards him. Vlad backed up to the end of the tunnel. A shaft of daylight beckoned to him. As he clambered the final few feet to freedom, the serpent wrapped its torso around his waist as its head slithered up Vlad’s body. Eventually, it came face to face with him. Vlad had no defence, and the snake hissed as it attempted to finish him. Vlad released his grip on the cave wall, and they fell fifteen feet onto the hard rocks. The reptile bore the brunt of the fall. Bruised and dazed, the two battle-scarred warriors paused for a moment to get their bearings. The lull quickly passed, and they resumed battle.

  The serpent thrust its venomous head at Vlad, but he stepped out of the way. The serpent’s head shot over a precipice that led down to another part of the cave. Swiftly collecting up the folds of scaled skin, Vlad hurled the serpent’s body into the abyss. The creature’s loud hiss echoed through the cave as it drifted down into darkness. Taking a final look down the passageway for any last-minute surprises, Vlad began his ascent to the surface. Summoning every last ounce of energy he possessed, Vlad dragged himself out of the cave and collapsed on the surface. Like a mole burrowing out of the earth, Vlad covered his eyes with his hand as the glow of the day stung his eyes. When he had fully recovered, he got to his feet to take in the surroundings. A bat-like screech echoed in his ears as he felt himself pinned to the ground by an almighty force.

  It was Deadulus, king of the vampires. As it was daylight, Vlad knew Deadulus was not at his strongest, and he felt more secure but still nervous. Deadulus was scary enough with a neutral face. He was twice as frightening when he wore a mask of anger across his ferocious features. Furious red coals of rage burned in the NightLord’s eye sockets.

  “You killed Necromus!” the NightLord said, pointing at Vlad. “For that, I will flay the flesh from your bones strip by strip.”

  “Your kind made me kill my friend Mattna,” Vlad replied, “and for that, I shall cut out your heart, drop it in holy water, and watch it burn.”

  Deadulus drove his fist into the ground beside Vlad’s head. Trembling, Vlad stared at the crater beside his head.

  “You are a dead man, Ingisbohr!” said Deadulus. “I look forward to committing your soul to eternal damnation.”

  “The feeling is mutual,” Vlad said.

  With a furious growl, Deadulus took to the air, leaving Vlad lying exhausted on the ground.

  Vlad closed his eyes, safe in the knowledge that any nightmare was an improvement on the egregious events he had endured in the previous hours.

  Chapter Eight

  Vlad felt dehydrated. He had been without water for nearly a day. He thought he heard the pleasant sound of flowing water, and he followed it until he came to a small river. The cool, fresh, mountain water quenched his thirst and made him feel alert again. His mind told him to push on to Mortis, but Vlad was aware of the gruelling day that lay ahead of him. He needed all the energy and strength a good breakfast could supply. Vlad followed the stream for a while until it was deep enough to allow fish to swim in it. He waited patiently by the bank for any movement. As he did so, Vlad heard a man’s voice crying for help from further up the river. The man’s legs were visible as he struggled to surface in the water.

  Vlad ran to the spot and reached out to grab the man’s ankle to pull him out. Vlad heaved with all the strength he could muster, and the man’s severed leg came away in his hands. It was severed below the knee. Surprisingly, the man did not cry out. Vlad froze until the surface of the water exploded. A gargantuan Mimic fish leapt out at Vlad with the man’s other leg in its mouth. There was no drowning man at all; it was a ruse. The Mimic fish had held the severed legs of an earlier victim in its mouth while imitating their cries for help to lure the next victim. It was fishing for humans from the water with bait from their own kind; apparently it had learned something from fishermen and turned the hunt on its head.

  As the huge fish lunged at Vlad, it spat out the dead leg and opened its gaping mouth to swallow him. It failed to do that, but succeeded in clamping its sloppy lips down on Vlad’s shoulder. Vlad used his body weight to pull the fish onto land, but its strength did not dissipate. If anything, it got stronger as it sucked more and more of Vlad’s flesh into its mouth. The Mimic fish started to swallow Vlad whole. Vlad’s arm and shoulder were already in its mouth; one big gulp, and Vlad’s head would be too. He knew it would squeeze hard on his neck then and choke him to death. Vlad was panicking when a spear from out of nowhere pinned the Mimic fish’s head to the ground through the eye.

  Vlad pulled his arm out and gazed with shock and relief at the smiling, dirty face of Norvad the Beggar. He had a straggly beard and dressed in rags. Norvad twisted his spear in the Mimic fish, and the creature stopped moving.

  “Hello, stranger,” Norvad said, pointing at the Mimic fish. “Shall we eat?”

  “You were waiting for that to attack me so you could spear it?” Vlad said, still breathless from his exertions with the fish.

  “Yes, but I saved your life,” Norvad said.

  “By risking it,” Vlad said. “Thanks, but no thanks.” His stomach growled with hunger.

  “Your body betrays you,” Norvad said. “Help me drag this fish to my fire, and we shall have a hearty breakfast and be good company for one another.”

  “Eat a fish that eats humans?!” Vlad asked. “I’m no cannibal.”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers,” Norvad said. “Eat or starve, the choice is yours. I can’t live your life for you.”

  “Very well,” Vlad said, grumbling as he got to his feet.

  Vlad grabbed the tail of the Mimic fish and Norvad grabbed the dorsal fin, and they strenuously carried the weighty fish to a smouldering pile of leaves not far away. Norvad quickly set the fish down and threw dry twigs on top of it and blew on them to make the flames higher. Vlad then found a branch and skewered the Mimic fish with it through its midsection, and they set it over the fire to cook. The glorious smell of a hot meal assailed Vlad’s nostrils. It had been too long since he had smelled that reassuring aroma.

  “It won’t be long now,” Norvad said, smiling as he nodded at the fire.

  Vlad licked his lips and willed the fire to expedite cooking his meal. “Who are you?” Vlad asked.

  “I am Norvad,” he replied.

  “I am Vlad Ingisbohr,” Vlad said.

  Norvad’s eyes illuminated. “I’ve heard of this name; it is distinguished.”

  “Thank you,” Vlad said. “What were you doing in the cave?”

  “I live there,” Norvad said.

  “You live there?” Vlad said incredulously. “What about the serpent?”

  “Oh, he doesn’t bother me, and I don’t bother him!” Norvad replied. “I live in a different part of the cave. We just stay out of each other’s way!”

  Vlad shrugged.

  “What were you doing there?” Norvad asked.

  “Hiding,” Vlad said.

  “Hiding from what?” asked Norvad.

  “Vampires,” Vlad said earnestly, as he scanned the old man’s face for any signs
of laughter. He saw none.

  “Vampires, eh?” Norvad said. “I’ve heard of them. Never seen one, but I’ve heard of them.”

  “You hear a lot,” Vlad said. “The one who chased me is called Deadulus, and he is the strongest of them all. He killed my father.”

  “I have also heard of this one,” Norvad said. “I am sorry for your loss.”

  “Thanks again,” Vlad said.

  Norvad told Vlad a story of how Deadulus had consolidated his bloodthirsty reputation.

  “Early in the reign of Deadulus, not long after McLintock’s Spit,” Norvad said, “a foolish peasant woman failed to find refuge after dark. She hid in a dark forest, hoping to find an opportunity to escape. A column of vampires soared over the trees of the forest. After a quick look around, the woman decided to make a run for it. She left the safety of the dense forest and came to a clearing. She checked the skies again and saw nothing. Deadulus swooped out of the sky and tore the woman’s head from her body. To the amazement of the NightLord, the torso kept running! He hovered several feet above the ground, cradling the head against his chest. Deadulus turned the still-conscious head around and looked into its eyes, his face contorted into a mask of sadistic glee. The vampire held her decapitated head aloft and asked if she saw how mortal life fled from her. The eyes of the head flickered and rolled around, paralysed in the vampire’s hands. The body slumped to a halt on the edge of the clearing, blood erupting from the neck stump and trickling down all the greenery in sight. It was the signal for the NightLord to hold the head over his mouth. Any loose blood dripped down his throat. When the flow of blood stopped, he crushed the head between his mighty hands, sending dark, bloody brain tissue streaming into the jagged cavern of his mouth. He dropped the collapsed cranium to the ground like an apple core and rushed to where the body lay. There, he single-handedly ransacked the corpse, drinking the rest of the poor woman’s blood and feasting on the internal organs. He then took to the sky to rejoin the hunt for prey. When the peasants found the remains of that woman, word spread like wildfire about what a ruthless creature Deadulus was. Few people stayed out after dark following that incident.”