That Which Stalks the Night

Far from the Haskud Kingdom, as far west as one can travel without winding back round to the east, a candle-lit cavern echoed with raspy whispers. The orange flame cast deep shadows on the hooded faces of the huddled figures within. The tightly drawn group had their heads locked together as they frantically whispered in passionate tones.

"We all felt the passing of the great undead god. It is undeniable... he is gone." One figure croaked out in a low rumble, his voice like large rattling chains. A long silence befell the huddled mass as they absorbed the weighty information. After a moment sighs of relief echoed from amongst the entire group.

"Then... we are free?" Another muttered under their breath in disbelief. "Are we finally unfettered?"

The tallest of the bunch straightened his back, further elevating himself above the others, and with a grand gesture cast off his hood, revealing a bleached white skeletal face, with red gleaming eyes. All eyes turned his way as the hunched and hooded figures broke apart the huddle. He signed with bony hands, as his teeth clattered uselessly together in his flapping, silent jaws

"You mean..." A nasal voice from one of the figures gasped in shock and reverence. "It is bold... frighteningly bold. However... I am with you."

Another shook his head furiously, "You're both insane," he rasped. "We would be much more secure remaining underground, operating in secret. It's how we've always been, even before the rise of the undead god."

"Look where that got us." The one with the low heavy voice like rattling chains refuted his skeptical colleague. "I agree with Hajul. It is time for the undead to rise to the surface, and declare our power before those who saw us chained. Down with the gods!"

These hooded men were in fact all undead. The one named Hajul was the strongest of the bunch and their leader, a surviving member of Rygald's proudest creations which he had failed to fully utilize during his final battle. Hajul had a piece of the undead god within him, and the unmatched knowledge of necromancy forcibly implanted into his undead brain. In a world without a god of the undead, and the other three of his kind killed by Osk, he was now the supreme undead being. The ones he lead each led hosts of their own, forming a formidable organization of undead, once unified under Rygald.

The chorus of 'Down with the gods!' overtook the group as the passion of the zombie-like undead that started the cry infected the whole lot. Even the one who'd protested before found himself swept up in the moment. Eventually, Hajul help up his bony palm to silence the raucous undead cabal.

'This is why we came west. The gods here are weak... petty. They won't be able to react in time.' Hajul signed to his followers solemnly, his jaw still fluttering impotently. 'We will establish an undead kingdom on this soil first. With our outstretched hands we will break the surface, and take it for our own.' Signing once more before making a sweeping gesture with his hand, Hajul vanished in a puff of sickly green smoke.

The gathered undead left behind all muttered in approval, some even applauding, and began excitedly making preparations.

...

In the far east where rivers and deserts mysteriously co-exist, and castes stand firmly entrenched amongst human society, a large mansion with wide wings stretched on either side of the main house stood proudly. A rigidly postured, bearded man with high arching eyebrows sat at a candle-lit desk snacking on fruits and reading over documents. His name was Alkar, a noble and aristocrat of the Cardimina Protectorate fortunate enough to be born in the higher castes

"Production has dipped in the northern warehouse. That's an easy fix, but..." Alkar rubbed his dark, pointed beard in thought. "Do I cut down on manpower, or wages?" As he mused over his minor dilemma, a loud knock echoed from outside his door. "Come in." Alkar absentmindedly replied, however the door never opened, nor did any further knocks follow. "Hello?" He impatiently stood from his chair and opened the door, but there was nobody outside. Craning his neck to either side and still seeing no one, Alkar heaved an aggravated sigh and turned back around grumbling under his breath. Looking up he screamed suddenly. A man with a tall, lanky figure wrapped in black, leathery robes stood by his desk, seemingly from nowhere.

"Wh-who are you? How did you get in?" Alkar's voice shook with terror even as his eyes darted around the room for some kind of recourse to the situation. He didn't know why, but something about this pale, dark haired man set his hackles rising.

A lazy smile spread across the ghastly face of the man before him, revealing a set of fangs in both lower and upper teeth. "Well... you did say 'come in.'" His eyes flashed with a red light, and Alkar's rapidly beating heart slowed as he felt the panic wash away.

"Who are you?" Alkar repeated in a daze, still unable to comprehend why this strange person was here.

"I am the god Barbatos, and I am here to offer you the greatest fortune of your life." What Alkar took for leather robes unraveled themselves, spreading wide to reveal their true nature as bat-like wings stretching from the shoulders of Barbatos.

"Great- " Alkar nervously gulped at the terrifying sight before him, "great fortune?"

"Indeed." Barbatos held forth an upturned palm. "Power, strength, immortality. All these and more do I offer you." His eyes gleamed once more, and his smile appeared to grow even more attractive on his pale face.

Falling to his knees in awe, Alkar desperately inquired, "What must I do to deserve these rewards?"

Laughter burst out from between Barbatos' razor teeth. "Deserve it? You already do. You will understand in time, I think. Only those such as yourself deserve what I offer. As for what to do to obtain it... there is a small, small price. Easily paid, and easily forgotten." Barbatos flashed his winning smile once more across his broad and firm jaw, exuding immeasurable charm.

"I will do as you ask, great Barbatos! Anything for your generous gifts! Even sacrifice my own children!" Spittle fired everywhere as Akal steadily lost his composure more and more.

Barbatos patted the over-eager entrepreneur on the head, shaking his own. "No, no. That won't be necessary... I'm not M'lak after all." Chuckling to himself, Barbatos continued. "I ask only this; Drink of my blood, and let it permeate your heart and soul. With your hunger for the life-blood of others, it will not subdue you, but empower you."

Encouraged by the words of the bat-like god, Akal nodded his head enthusiastically like a child being offered sweets. Nodding back, Barbatos slashed the vein in his wrist with his long upper fangs and offered the spring of blood welling up from his wrist to the awaiting Akal.

Without a word, Akal sucked eagerly at the fountain of red sustenance. The blood of Barbatos tasted acidic and scorched his throat and esophagus, but Akal refused to stop drinking until instructed. If this god's blood was the source of his power, he would take as much as he could. "Good, drink to your heart's content." Barbatos encouraged him further, pleased in his choice upon witnessing the insatiable greed and hunger of his new protege.

The burning in his throat and chest soon spread across the entirely of Akal's body, and he was eventually forced to stop under the scorching pain within. Guttural screams permeated the entire mansion as his face reddened, the veins in his forehead bulged, and his whole body was coated in sweat. "Don't resist... let it flow through you Akal." Barbatos gently whispered into the nobleman's ear.

Akal closed his eyes, making a visible effort to ignore the pain, as he breathed in and out steadily, no longer resisting the course of the blood's flow. The boiling god blood worked its way from his stomach winding through his veins and piercing his heart. Akal let out a muffled cry and his heartbeat stilled forever. He teetered and slumped onto his rear, panting with sweat dripping from his now pale brow.

At that moment several people in fine uniforms burst through the door to his room with worry etched all over their faces. "Master Akal, we heard screaming. Are you alright?"The servants of the mansion looked after their employers welfare in a panic. His cries before were terrifying beyond belief, like the suffering of extreme torture.

Looking around to see Barbatos wasn't to be found, Akal stood to his feet. His eyes flashed with a red gleam and he smiled a toothy smile full of razors. "You heard nothing. You saw nothing. Understood?"

Eyes glazing over and jaws going slack, the servants all repeated in unison, "I heard nothing. I saw nothing," Before shambling out of the room dazedly.

Looking in shock at the results of his order, Akal muttered, "What power..." Then, feeling the exuberance threatening to crush his chest, he unleashed it in manic laughter that belied the rational machinations running through the empowered mind of the man of noble caste.