You grab the bolt of your rifle, pulling it back as you twist around and firing. The gun flies back in your hand as the recoil almost knocks you back as the werewolf takes the shot to its center mass, being knocked off Mikhail and letting out a high-pitched whimper as it quickly retreats back to the safety of the shadowy trees. Lucas grabs Mikhail. pulling him up to his feet as he joins you in running. As the werewolves are distracted with their prey, you continue sprinting towards the tower. 


Unfortunately, you see one of the werewolves stand in the center of the village. It's larger than the others, its fur white and its eyes red. It stares at you for a second, before it lets out a powerful, booming howl. The other werewolves emerge from the buildings, blood matting their fur and dripping from their claws. The Alpha Male drops to all fours and begins sprinting away towards you, followed by the others.


"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Lucas says, as you see the castle.


You sprint, the only noise being your heavy panting and the thudding of boots and clawed feet on the earth. You reach the castle, sprinting through the gates and past the carriages parked there. You see the portcullis' control wheel to your left, and the heavy wooden door to the keep to your right.

You get inside the castle

You burst towards the wooden door, unlatching it and opening it so Lucas and Mikhail can topple in. You quickly close the door behind them, seeing the eyes of one of the beasts as as it desperately stares at you with the rage of a hungry and stuck lion. You lock the door as it's weight smashes into the hard wood with enough force to splinter it.


"There's not supposed to be that many! There's not that fucking many!" Lucas says.


"There must be every cursed wretch under the moon's gaze," you mutter.


Mikhail spits blood onto his chest.


"Christ..." he groans, as Lucas chuckles.


"Oh dear brother, Count Grey would tear your throat out if he heard you mutter that fucker's name here," Lucas smiles. "Samuel, help me. We need to get Mikhail to the medical bay."


"Can't you handle him? I need to go warn Count Grey and the viceroys," you say.


"Yes, sure," Lucas says, grabbing Mikhail and putting his arm over his shoulder.


He walks towards medical bay, as you quickly hurry up the stairs to the sacrificial chambers. You walk upstairs quickly, heading through the lounge. You reach the door to the sacrificial chambers, before pausing. You can hear whispered voices inside, almost drowned out by the roars of the werewolves outside. How has Count Grey not noticed the attack? Why is he still in the sacrificial chambers? You tilt your head forward, and you think you can make out the words if you try hard enough.

You eavesdrop

You press your head against the wooden door, as you hear voices on the other side.


"You're nothing more than rotten curs fixed with mange!" Count Grey snarls.


"Why aren't we killing yet?" Draven asks. "We could run out pitiful master through and be done with it!"


"There will be thousands of Blood moons, millions of hunting nights, but there will only ever be one Count Grey. I want to... savor his death," Mihrab says.


"I'll skin you alive!" Count Grey howls.


"What about his servants?" Alexa asks.


"The crippled hunchback is no threat, Draven can hunt him down. The others will have been wiped out by the wulven," Mihrab commands.


"What ab...? Understood," Alexa says, seemingly confused.


"And the wulven?" Draven asks. "They're beasts with neither honor nor reason, nothing but instinct driving them forward. They can't be trusted."


"They are the most trustworthy beings in existence," Mihrab says. "I can trust that they're too stupid to think to attack us, their bellies driving them forward to feast on the villagers instead of making a move for power. I can predict they think themselves too important, even as pawns, to know we plan to hunt them down when they're mortals the next moonless night. Hell, normal mortals are infinitely less manipulative. The mixture of fear, loyalty, honor, greed and ambition that drives them makes them hard to predict, let alone manipulate successfully."


"You're going to die. You're going to suffer. I'll tear out your throat and fuck your bleeding neck stump, just like I should've when you were a pathetic mortal! I'll..." Count Grey threatens.


Count Grey's voice stops abruptly as you hear the slicing of flesh followed by a desperate wet gurgling. The gurgling lasts about a minute, which the vampires stay silent for. Finally, it stops.


"Goodbye, dear master," Mihrab says.


"Good. We're finished here. I'm going to find that miserable humpback and take his head. Perhaps I might gift his body to the peasants under my control. The children should enjoy looking at his misshapen body, poking and prodding at it."


You back step as you hear Draven begin moving, but he heads to the second door of the sacrificial chambers. Mihrab's steps follow him.


"I'll follow. I need to make sure the albino knows his place."


"The sound of footsteps fades as the pair leave. You breath out a sigh of relief. Suddenly, you find a dagger poking into your throat.


"Look what we have here," Viceroy Alexa says, as she appears from the shadows. She doesn't exactly step out of the shadows, instead the shadows manifest, forming into material as the vampire appears in front of you.


You take a deep breath, staring at her. She pushes the dagger against your neck, drawing blood that gently trickles down your neck. Her forked tongue darts forward and licks the blood as it runs down your neck, before she opens her mouth wide, her fangs pricking out. She gently scrapes her teeth along your neck, her breath as cold as a corpse, causing the hairs to stand on your neck.


"Look at you," she says in a half-purr, half-growl. "You outsmarted the wolves, or maybe just got lucky. Unexpected, but not surprising. How did you manage to eavesdrop?"


"I... I..." you stammer, reaching slowly for your gun.


Unsurprisingly, Draven was too focused on killing to notice you, but Mihrab should've noticed you. You're nothing special. I could hear your footsteps up the stairs, you leaning slightly on the door, your heavy breathing. I don't know how you didn't get noticed, let alone the girl."


Your hand wraps around the gun, as you slowly raise it to point at the monster's head.


"Maybe Mihrab is too old, too proud, too over-confident to expect much from humans, not thinking to even check for you as you weren't a risk. Perhaps he needs to be taken off his so new throne. I'll admit, I like you. You have... balls. Listening in on three powerful vampires, pledging yourself to old Count Grey, even trying to grab your gun when my fangs are less than an inch away from your throat..."


You grab your gun, raising it as your hand goes from the trigger. With the flat of her hand, Alexa slams it into your chest, knocking you against the wall as she grabs the gun from her hands.


"You're weak. Slow. Stupid. One of the qualms of being human, I suppose," Alexa says, examining your rifle. "Uh, how I miss being able to eat some warm bread, drink myself stupid on cheap beer and feel the warmth of the sun on my face. Thankfully, I'm still able to enjoy some other... base pleasures. I'm so close to slicing your vein open and feasting on your delicious blood..."


"Fuck you. Why don't you just kill me?" you spit.


"Kill you? Why would I do that? You'll either fail and be killed, in which case why would I expend energy to kill you, or you'll succeed, and kill Draven and Mihrab, both of who will underestimate how dangerous you'll be, in which case they needed to die. If you do happen to kill them, please, come find me. I'm sure I'd like to talk to you at that point."


Alexa steps back, smiling at you. She tosses the gun to the ground, where it clatters across the stone floor. She swirls around, walking away from you. She bursts forward, quickly speeding off. You let out a sigh of relief, grabbing your gun and picking it up.


Fucking hell. You have three vampires and a pack of werewolves to deal with. Could things get...? Actually, you'll refrain from tempting fate.

You search the Sacrificial Chambers

You walk into the sacrificial chambers. You walk over to Count Grey, who has a deep wound going through his chest and lies on the ground. You step over the blood-filled grooves of the floor, walking over to him. You drop to a knee, checking his pulse, before mentally hitting yourself for being so stupid. He's undead. You pull back his eyelids, revealing dull, lifeless black eyes. You quickly pat him down, finding only a curved ebony dagger and some Leu on him, which you take. You gently pat his cold head as a matter of respect, or perhaps more likely to comfort yourself. The terrifying menace who has controlled the region for over a thousand years is dead. He was your master, your mentor and your liege.


"Good fucking riddance. He was a cold, sociopathic cunt," you say aloud, a part of you still terrified to say it, somehow expecting him to wake up and tear out your throat.


You stand, looking around. There's the doorway to the lower floors, where you,,,


A girl charges out from your blind side, holding up a dagger.

You shoot your gun

You quickly raise your gun, firing it. The gun bucks in your hands as the bullet tears through the air forward, blowing out the girl's heart. She collapses onto the ground, her head smacking into the cold stone and falling into the groove.


You stare at her face, recognizing Dasha, the sacrificial victim you kidnapped from earlier. Huh, she had survived. Must've gotten free of the chains. Did you even chain her up, or did you just leave her unconscious? Huh, doesn't matter. She's dead now.

You keep searching the room

You keep looking through the room, finding several vials of blood sitting on a table off to the side. You open one of the table's drawers, before suddenly the door bursts open. Standing there, clad in armor with long, wild flowing black hair and a face contorted by rage and anger.


"Yes! I thought I heard a gunshot! I was hoping for the cripple, but a ghoul will do!" he snarls, approaching.


The vampire charges forward with remarkable speed. You raise your gun quickly, firing. The bullet thuds into Draven's chest, but it fails to even slightly slow him down. He swings the sword, slicing through your muscle and sinew and separating your head from your body. His lips immediately wrap around your gaping neck hole as he drains you of your blood, your head falling to the ground.