Bloodlust Part 1
Bloodlust | January 14, 2018
In a cruel world where ill thought manifests as demons that interfere with anything to the detriment of others, portraying a very rare type relationship with men known as Amensalism. Mankind have retaliated and produced magic to contain them. However, to truly subdue them for good would require the expertise from learned individuals of great will, who are able to tame, bend and shape this willpower into a physical weapon; and only such arsenal forged from this level of raw grit may harm a demon. These respected people of mankind are known as Karma. The fate of mankind rests on a fine thread, and only they can save us all.
Hey, wake up. A voice whispered. Wake up, it’s sunrise.
My vision was stung by the gleaming sunlight as my eyes struggled to adapt to the sudden flood of energy. I must’ve fell asleep on my watch last night.
“Miss Karen, did you see anything of significance last night?”, asked the old farmer who woke me up from my sleep.
“Not until just before I fell asleep. Are you sure it is what the village chief thinks it is?”, I enquired, puzzled.
I was tasked to keep watch on the village atop this hill last night as the village has been experiencing some mysterious phenomenon over the past few weeks.
I sat up to appreciate the view of the sunrise and the village at my feet, which is already bustling with people going about their peaceful lives, oblivious to the greater issue at hand.
I’m sure it is. Come on, we have to meet the village chief. Replied the farmer.
I don my white Haori that I have folded and placed aside before I fell asleep last night and begin walking down the hill towards the village with the old farmer.
The village is unlike most other in terms of size; dwarfing and putting most of its neighbours to shame. Though great enough to be classified as a town, but as I have heard, the chief does not want it to be called a town yet as it will lose its sense of community and culture that he has built up over the past few decades, which could make close, yet tightly knit bonds strained and diluted by foreigners that tend to settle in at that news.
I met the chief the day before. He is an old, thoughtful, yet intriguing man, invited me into his home for dinner to talk about my journey to the village.
He knows that I am a Karma and requests my help in assisting the village. I agreed.
The commoners smiled at me as I walked through the town center. I forced an awkward smile in response to every one of them.
As I approached the village chief’s house, the feeling of dread penetrated my skin. I look to my left and find the old farmer is starting to feel uncomfortable as well. I quickly wolfed down the bread that I have bought as breakfast from the village center and hasten my pace.
Despite his old and fragile look, the old farmer somehow manages to match my pace with no extra effort. He must be worried about the village chief as well.
But from my experience, this feeling of “dread” is no good sign to a Karma.
We arrive at the doorstep of the chief’s house and paid heed to knock, as per town custom. With the uneasy airy feeling surrounding me, open the door with a great push and swung it wide open.
As the door swings open, the old farmer’s facial expression changes from exhausted to outright fearful of what’s on the other side.
There is no blood, no sound and no living being to look at. Just a black shadowy humanoid creature grasping a lifeless chief in its mouth. Its crimson eyes shot at us to our presence.
“How did it get here in daylight?!”, Screamed the old farmer fearfully.
“Start running! It’s a pseudo-vampire!”, I shouted at him as I get my mind ready for what is to come.