Curse of Souls (Warrior of Souls Book 1)

by S Mays

  “I’ve learned so much in recent years about what you are. There have been a few smatterings of writings and tales about your kind, from shamans, seers, and their like. I couldn’t believe my fortune when my spies brought me the reports of a Soul Warrior in the clutches of the Order. I acted quickly, although I believe I am the only one of my kind who knows without doubt you even exist. Leave nothing to chance, as they say.

  “I calculated how best to proceed. I needed to analyze Sverre’s power in-depth from a scientific and spiritual perspective. I knew the Order would do this for me, given enough time. Of course, I have my own resources, but there are several pieces of machinery in the possession of the Order, specifically at Inquest One, that I do not have. But I get ahead of myself.

  “My moles within the Order stated that Sverre would most likely leave at the first opportunity. I needed him to remain so that he could be studied. An idea occurred to me — that I could perhaps use this opportunity to regain the service of the Cen’Ful clan, which I had sorely missed for years. I was in sporadic contact with certain elements within the clan who were not happy with the leadership of Varulf. The key was Rilus. He could prove more useful in death than in life, if I utilized him correctly. The day Sverre traveled to visit his parents, I personally watched the interaction from nearby. My contact within the Cen’Ful clan had dispatched scouts to the same location, under the impression that they were going to capture Rilus. After Sverre and Ms. Luvkrafft left the premises, I eliminated the father using tools that made it seem like the deed had been committed by a werewolf, then absconded with Mrs. Walker. With no ties to his past life, Sverre would be more apt to join the Order. The werewolves arrived shortly after, just as planned. The Order was now aware there was a pack of werewolves operating without their knowledge, and Sverre was predictably out for revenge, remaining with the Order until he could fulfill his desire.”

  Sverre’s hands dug into the armrests of his chair, the wood splintering and cracking. The guards behind him moved closer, alarmed.

  Dragos noticed Sverre’s building rage. “I apologize for what you’ve endured. It was necessary. Please bear with me a bit longer. I would dislike for you to be unconscious during the remainder of the tale.” Sverre eased back into his chair, although his cold expression remained unchanged.

  “My agents watched Sverre over the coming months, making sure he remained in place while he was studied under Bilford’s watchful eye. Bilford’s notes were invaluable to my research.”

  “How did you infiltrate us? Who are the traitors?” Jessica interrupted, unable to remain quiet any longer.

  “Those details are unimportant to this story. Suffice it to say, your vaunted organization has been infiltrated by enemy agents for many decades now. Now, please, no further interruptions,” Dragos insisted. Jessica appeared ready to protest, but remained silent.

  “I planned to have the worm that was shielding Cen’Ful removed from the Order’s surveillance systems, sowing the seeds of fear and mistrust within the clan. Varulf’s plan to hide in the human world would fail, forcing them to accept my protection again. In truth, he had very few loyalists left after his insistence to leave my employ left the clan destitute. My lady Tarja used the coming months to persuade the clan to return to my fold. Meanwhile, Bilford had exhausted most of the research methods available to him, so it was time to move Sverre to Inquest One. We allowed him the chance to hack the Order’s database files to obtain the satellite coordinates of the Cen’Ful village. When he left on his quest for revenge, we intercepted him, had him branded a traitor, then shipped off for further study.

  “The next stage of the plan was the most vital,” he said, looking directly at Sverre as if the next part was explicitly for his benefit. “As you know, we vampires must subsist through feeding on humans. Their blood nourishes our bodies and repairs cellular damage. The key to power lies within the soul, however. When feeding, we take a portion of the subject’s soul within us. The amount depends on the power of the vampire and the strength of the person’s soul. An ancient lord such as myself takes the whole soul from any human I feed on, if he or she perishes. This is why my power is a thousand times greater than that of a young minor vampire.”

  “Why wouldn’t a vampire just kill a thousand humans and grow powerful overnight?” Sverre asked. A few of the gathered vampires snickered.

  “Can you eat a hundred pounds of meat and become a bodybuilder in a night? We become satiated just as any other creature that feeds. Feeding too much has just as many, if not more, negative effects on us as on a human, because we are feeding on spirit and body. There’s also the risk of discovery if one of our kind feeds too often. It’s why few vampires live as long as I have. It requires patience and planning. This knowledge that absorption of the spirit fuels strength is also not widely known amongst lower vampires or is considered a myth. However, we all know the soul, the spirit, or some type of ethereal being is present in living beings, don’t we?

  “Not all souls are created equally. Most souls are mere tidbits, as most humans are content to wallow in mediocrity. Others hold fantastic power, especially those of so-called heroes. Those who sacrifice their own wellbeing for the weak. For whatever reason, these souls soar above others. Perhaps it is some sort of cosmic karma, or perhaps they are imbued with greatness from whatever maker may exist. Regardless, there is great power in these spirits. Sverre’s uniqueness lies in the fact that he is a living vessel containing an untold number of these exquisite spirits. The scanners at Inquest One could not count the hordes contained within you. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of souls inhabiting one body. If it was possible to feed on such power, a vampire such as myself would become godlike. I failed the first time, but I will not fail a second time.

  “You may recall a certain machine that did something to you when you were a prisoner at Inquest One. It may have felt like you were having an out-of-body experience. This machine was designed to destroy otherworldly spirits. It never functioned as intended, but I theorized it could be used to draw your own soul from your body. As long as your spirit is within your body, I believe the souls are bound to the vessel. If you die, they vacate and seek a new host. However, I believe that if I could remove your spirit, then feed on the vessel, I could draw them into myself. I would surpass all others of my kind, even the king. Before that could occur, fate intervened. Sverre escaped Inquest One with the aid of another.

  “You could imagine my horror. After finding the key to success, to have it snatched away suddenly. I thought the plan was foolproof. Who could have guessed the first escape from that facility would be my prize? I researched his accomplice, then another plan formed once I realized she had done work scavenging for Underworlder warlords in the past. Although I held his mother as a future bargaining chip, he did not know this. I needed a new chip, which is where Jessica came in. I raced to the Farm with little planning, which was extremely foolish in hindsight. However, I knew the defenses well. Even if they were fully functional, my risk was minimal. On the way, I had second thoughts and arranged a deal with Bilford to save the lives of the others in the compound under his care, as well as Jessica’s life. Shortly thereafter, I had my second incentive for Sverre to seek me out.

  “I knew he would attempt to contact Bilford or return home at some point, but I was unsure of how long that would take. The longer he was out in the wild, the more chances there were of him doing something foolish and dying. So, I set the second phase of my other plan in motion and set Varulf and his trackers on Sverre’s trail, giving them tips as to where he might turn up. While Varulf was gone, Tarja assumed leadership of clan Cen’Ful. I sent transports to retrieve my wayward werewolves. Varulf located Sverre easily, bringing him directly to me with no trouble, putting my master plan back on course. That plan being total rule of the planet.

  “I’ve been locked in a stalemate with two other vampire lords for centuries now. My allies and I could wipe out one of them, but I would be left vulnerable to the one who remai
ns. My resources would be depleted. With the abilities and strength granted to me by absorbing these souls within Sverre, that would no longer be the case. Now I can wipe out these adversaries, depose the cowardly king, and finally employ my global resources to begin consolidating my power base. I will co-opt the governments now controlled by my enemies. I will then go about distributing the resources around the globe that have been hoarded by the rich and powerful, thus ending conflict around the globe.”

  “You really think it will be that easy?” Jessica interrupted.

  “Nothing is easy. Many religions will be banned, some countries and states will be under martial law, but in the end, I will be seen as the greatest leader in world history. One doesn’t live over a thousand years without learning a few fundamentals about human nature. The consolidation process will take many decades, but I have time to spare. It’s one of the failings of your kind. Great leaders grow old, they die. Their legacies are then ruined by inept imbeciles and greed. The cycle has been endless, but I will end it.”

  “Why would you care about helping humans or world peace? Why would you help your enemies?” Sverre asked, confused.

  Dragos chuckled, then answered, “Why do you think humans are my enemy? Do you consider cows or chickens an enemy? Forgive me; that analogy is too crude. Humans are the greatest resource on the planet. Art, music, writing, and exquisite food and drink all come from human creativity. I want to see the human race thrive. I want it to evolve past petty squabbles for land, water, food, and religion. Frankly, the human race has been stuck in something of a rut since it came about, but I see a path forward. You are the key to my success, Sverre. Although I would eventually destroy my enemies through careful planning and strategy at some future point, the powers you grant me would shave hundreds or thousands of years off of the timetable. Looking at the pollution levels, the wars, disease, and other factors at play today, I don’t believe the human race will survive another two hundred years without my assistance. Man will destroy everything in the coming years. Once I control everything, this will be averted.”

  Dragos bowed before all gathered before announcing, “Thusly, I conclude my Grandiose Denouement.”

  Those gathered in the room paused for a moment as if unsure how to respond to such an amazing story. A few timid claps soon turned to resounding applause.

  “My friends, thank you for listening to my tale tonight. May your schemes be complex and fruitful. We will reconvene in the banquet hall for refreshments and to discuss our future plans together. Allow me a few moments to tidy up here,” Dragos said, raising his hand to the small crowd. Everyone who was not a prisoner or a guard left the room, barely able to contain their excitement.

  Sverre thought for a moment about everything that Dragos had said. It…made sense. What if the minor sacrifice of his life could save billions of lives later? He could feel the agitated souls within him calling out for direction. Self-sacrifice for the preservation of innocents was their thing, not his, yet the idea seemed logical….

  “Sverre! Don’t listen to this madman. He wishes to use you for his own ends. His kind and all monsters like him have been a plague on humanity,” Jessica shouted.

  “What about my mom and Jessica?” Sverre asked.

  “Your mother is free to go. Commander Swift, please take Mrs. Walker down to the reconditioning center and remove all of this unpleasantness from her memory. Do not worry, Sverre, our process is even more refined than the Order’s. She will suffer no ill effects from the treatment. As for Ms. Luvkrafft, she and I made a bargain upon her arrival. If she remained in her cell and caused no trouble, I would have done the same for her as I am doing for your mother. However, she attempted to escape, so she will be remaining with us permanently. She has some unusual abilities of her own which I wish to investigate more in-depth, such as how she resists the bites of werewolves and vampires alike. There is some legacy of her father within her, and I wish to unravel it.”

  Sverre intercepted his mother before she could exit the room. A guard moved to block his path, but Dragos waved him away.

  “I’m sorry this has happened to you, Mom, but you won’t remember it. I’m sorry about Dad. This is all my fault.”

  She brushed his hair aside, gently touching the side of his face. “Sverre, this is not your fault. The world I knew has been turned upside down, but I know you will do the right thing. Even if everything else in the world has gone crazy, I know you are a good person, and you need to know I’ll always love you. Don’t worry about me; you know how tough I am.”

  Sverre smiled before embracing her fiercely. “Just…just stay safe, Mom. I don’t know if I’ll ever come home, but I’m happy you’re still alive.”

  Commander Swift pulled her way, leading her out the main entrance. She glanced over her shoulder one last time, tears streaming down her face. Sverre wiped the tears from his eyes. He turned to face Dragos.

  “Thank you for letting her go. I want to make a deal with you. If you let Jessica go, I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “Sverre, no! You don’t know what you are doing! You’ll give this monster untold power if even part of what he says is true!” Jessica shouted.

  Dragos shook his head. “I’m afraid the time for bargaining has passed, young Mr. Walker. Rest tonight. You’ll be moved to a more secure facility in the morning. It will take several months to finish duplicating the machinery required for the process. You’ll be very comfortable in the meantime.”

  Sverre looked to Jessica, desperation in his eyes. He could see no solution. If he and Jessica were separated, he knew their chances of survival would plummet. His eyes darted around the room, trying to figure out some means of escape, before he spotted the broken armrest of his chair. He leapt toward the closest chair, then shattered it with his fist. Raising a jagged, splintered piece of wood to his throat, a grim determination took hold. “Let us go, or I’ll slit my own throat.”

  Dragos responded to the threat with a look of amusement. “You and I both know you will not do it. It wouldn’t be in your nature.”

  “You know what I am. I’d gladly sacrifice myself if it means saving others!” Sverre said, jabbing the wood harder against his skin.

  Dragos frowned before replying calmly, “I forbid you to kill yourself. Put the weapon down and sit. I have guests awaiting my presence. I do not have time for nonsense.”

  Sverre laughed nervously. “I don’t think that’s…going…” he said, becoming confused. His will faded. He tossed the wooden shard away and sat calmly. “What are you doing…?”

  Dragos laughed. “I told you. Humans obey my every command. I can will you to do whatever I wish. Even you, with your army of souls fueling you. In my presence, you are but a puppet. Guards, take these two to the dungeons. Keep Ms. Luvkrafft in shackles and keep both of them heavily sedated. I don’t want any further —”

  A deafening crash from the hall interrupted him. The guards’ terrified shouts were drowned out by gunfire. Several guards in the throne room moved to place themselves in front of Dragos. The chaos in the hall subsided except for the sound of heavy metal sliding across stone. A monstrous figure stood in the entranceway, silhouetted against the lights from the hall. The arm of one of the automated soldiers from just outside the doorway bounced and clanged across the hard stone, coming to a stop a few feet in front of Dragos. Varulf strode into the room, kicking off a guard that had been clinging to his leg.

  “Lord of Death, I would have words with you.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Varulf stomped into the room, followed by Janir. Shouting from farther down the hall indicated Olavi and Abraham were bringing up the rear.

  “Varulf. I had hoped you would see reason in this matter. I allowed you into my home, despite your legendary temper, with the expectation you would not do this,” Dragos said. “You know, those guards were not even activated. There was no reason to destroy them.”

  “It was something you cherished, so I tore it apart, as you have don
e to me. I heard everything. The betrayal of my kin, your grand plans. I do not care about any of it. I want Tarja, and I will leave you be. I know it was my own failure that brought this curse upon my clan, but I can at least remove the tumor that grew from within.” His final sentence was partially drowned out by a horrendous crash from far down the hall.

  “You just missed her,” said Dragos, unconcerned. “I’m in an excellent mood right now, Varulf. Your success in bringing me this boy and the fact I’m on the verge of something unfathomable to a beast such as yourself are the only reasons I haven’t had you killed. But you walk a fine line at the moment.”

  Olavi and Abraham stumbled into the room, laying down suppression fire as they entered. They struggled to pull the massive doors closed behind them. Sverre wondered why their fur was soaking wet, soon realizing it was matted with blood.

  “We collapsed…part of the hallway, but they are tearing through the rubble fast. These doors will hold the main entrance if they break through the debris,” Olavi choked out.

  “If those doors close, you are all dead,” Dragos warned. The three werewolves looked to Varulf, who nodded. They slammed the doors closed and barred them from within.

  “Such a waste,” Dragos said, frowning.

  “I couldn’t protect my village from your foul touch, but if I kill you now, they will at last be free,” Varulf said with a growl.

  Dragos laughed. It was a cruel, deep laugh without mirth. “You could not best me a hundred years ago. I am far stronger now, while your fur has more gray hairs than not. Scars and old wounds hamper your movement. What hope have you now?”

  Varulf disappeared, reappearing directly in front of Dragos. His blow connected squarely in the center of Dragos’ face, sending him through his throne, which exploded into pieces that ricocheted around the room. The reinforced walls of the castle cracked when Dragos slammed into the dense stone. Varulf palmed the skulls of the two guards as if they were balls and twisted their heads simultaneously. They fell to the ground in unison.