This close to a master bloodfencer, the crude piece of metal in my earlobe burned like hell. I itched to take it out, but it was all that guaranteed my sanity.
Sweat slicked the grip of my hydropistol as I watched Lord Dreadsower, the bloodsucking, self-proclaimed deity of this town, swoop into the alleyway to meet my partner. He moved too quickly to get in a shot, and I only had one. One silver bullet in the barrel of my gun, twin to the metal piercing my ear. Sometimes, though, one shot was all you needed. Kray looked far more confident than anyone in the presence of a vampire as powerful as Dreadsower deserved to be. Which, of course, was why he was the one to make the bloodfencer an offer he couldn’t refuse, while I crouched just past the doorway of one of the abandoned tenements. Kray and I had been hunting vampires for years now. He lured them in. I took them out. Ironic that I’d never told him the real reason I wanted to kill vampires. I’d seen the evil they could do firsthand. Felt it, even, in ways a normal man could never imagine. If Dreadsower was left unchecked, he’d drain the entire town, one person at a time. The lucky ones would be dead when he moved on. “Show me what you have promised,” Dreadsower demanded, taking a step toward Kray. “Show the lost bloodstone.” ‘Course, if we’d really had one of the ancient artifacts that created the first vampires, we’d have destroyed it rather than bring it anywhere near a monster like Dreadsower. The master bloodfencer probably knew that, but in his eyes he had nothing to lose. If his informant was lying… well, he’d gain a fresh meal. Kray took a step back, as if afraid, but I knew better. “Whoa, slow down. I’ll tell you where it is, but you gotta show me the gold you promised first.” Dreadsower moved closer, his grin betraying just enough hunger to be unnerving. “I sense fear on you, mortal.” “Well, you are pretty scary, after all,” Kray said, backing up farther. Dreadsower followed, closer to where I waited. I raised my pistol, making sure to keep my breathing even as Kray had taught me. “And more,” Dreadsower hissed. “I smell… lies!” Fear flashed across Kray’s face, real fear this time. He jumped backward as Dreadsower brandished his claws. I was rushed. I hated being rushed, but if I didn’t shoot now, Kray would die. I leapt through the doorway and took aim at Dreadsower’s leering form. Kray stumbled over a loose cobblestone. One shot. With a silver bullet, that was all it took to bring down even the strongest of vampires. I fired. I missed. Dreadsower jerked at the sound. The bullet went over his head. The vampire turned toward me, fangs bared, hopefully giving Kray enough time to regain his footing. I threw my hydropistol at Dreadsower’s face, water vapor still streaming from its barrel. It distracted him, but not enough. He pounced on me, claws raking my face. The hot scent of Dreadsower’s hungry breath made me want to gag. Time slowed. Kray yelled helplessly in the distance. That bullet had been the last of our silver. We were both dead. Wait. Not the last. I ripped my earring out, ignoring the potential consequences. The wound it left in my ear was inconsequential. The one it left in my mind—I could deal with that later. Dreadsower’s fangs reached for my neck. I rotated the earring so that its spike faced Dreadsower and rammed it with all my might into his face. For a split second, the master bloodfencer’s face showed fear. Then it showed nothing at all, instead dissolving, breaking apart into black smoke. What had been Dreadsower’s body dispersed in the air around me. I slumped on the rough cobblestone. Then I tasted the blood. A terrible hunger arose in me, one I hadn’t felt for years, and I hissed involuntarily. Kray approached, and for a moment I didn’t see him, just the thick, hot, delicious blood flowing in his veins. Kray’s face paled. He raised his own pistol, loaded with ordinary bullets, and cursed. “You’re one of them.” My friend’s voice brought me back to reality. I jabbed the silver earring into the palm of my hand and held it out for him to see. No vampire would do that. The hunger subsided, driven away by the bit of metal. “I was one of them,” I corrected him. “I’m reformed.” I had a lot of explaining to do. “I didn’t think that was possible,” Kray said. “How long ago?” “Nearly a decade, long before I met you. I had help, from a priest.” A particularly persistent one who helped me regain my reason, and eventually, my soul. Kray looked uncertain. “You still want to hunt vampires with me?” I asked. “I’m not going to turn on you, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Kray smiled and shoved his weapon back into its holster. “A former vampire turned vampire hunter? That’s the kind of audacity I’d always hoped to see from you.” “That doesn’t mean I’ll agree to your insane plan to assassinate the Dark Lord.” “I have plenty of time to convince you,” Kray said. “Let’s go collect our reward.” The End *** I released One Shot, originally published in Havok magazine, as part of my two-week campaign to connect more readers with my writing. If you enjoyed this story, subscribe to my email list by clicking the green button in the upper-right hand corner of my website. You'll get another free story immediately-- and if you're joining before August 7th, 2020, you'll become part of the campaign, with an opportunity to help unlock rewards by sharing my work with others. If you join after August 8th, you'll still get a free story, one that will sweep you away for a short time into a world of my creation. You'll also get occasional updates on my writing, as well as exclusive peeks at my book reviews and upcoming stories.
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Progress on Doombear, Rough draft:10%
Progress on The Lore of Yore, third draft:
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"In truth, by leaving, I was seeking only one thing. A journey."
-Oathbringer, pg 981 Types of blog posts:
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