Water poured out of his mouth in ugly, choking coughs. His body fought to breathe even though it didn’t need to. He hacked through it until he rolled onto his side and spat out a last mouthful of river water.
Jo was standing next to him, shifting from foot to foot. She was wrapped in a blanket, wet hair clung to her face. She crouched. Her hands hovered near him, unsure where to touch. Her eyes locked on his.
“Cedric’s down,” she said, the words coming out fast. “He got bitten. It’s bad.”
Harry pushed up onto one elbow and shook his head to clear it. He looked around to take in the situation, checking for venomstalkers on this side. He didn’t see any.
The bridge was to his right. To his left stretched a wide grassy field dotted with a few trees, open land rolling gently for a mile before rising hard into low mountains.
Harry coughed and spat. “Show me.” He rolled to his knees and pushed himself up.
Following Jo, Harry scanned as he moved, eyes searching for Stan. He spotted him first with his Blood Sense out on the bridge.
He was standing in front of another open gap. Most of the repairs were gone, leaving a space of about fifteen feet. Stan stood on this side with a spear held in both hands, feet set wide.
On the far half of the bridge and on the opposite bank venomstalkers were crowded together. They pressed in a restless mass, bodies packed tight, long necks weaving and heads lifting and lowering in agitation. Harry counted without really meaning to. At least three dozen.
As he watched, the one at the closest edge launched itself toward Stan, legs out, neck stretched forward. It fell just short. Claws scraped wood as it slammed into the edge, front legs catching, body swinging for a brief, frantic moment over open air.
Stan stepped in and drove the spear forward.
The point struck home. The venomstalker lost its grip and dropped away, spinning as it fell. Harry heard a cracking thud. No splash. His Blood Sense told him it was dead.
“What’s the situation? Any stalkers make it across?”
“No,” Jo glanced back over her shoulder to him. “When you went down most of the repairs went with you. Took a few of them too. So far, Stan’s kept them from crossing.”
They reached Cedric and Jo dropped down to squat beside him.
He lay flat on the grass in front of the bridge, one arm pulled tight against his chest. His face was drawn, jaw clenched, breath coming shallow and uneven.
Harry went to one knee beside him and studied the wound. One bite. Clean placement on the arm. The limb was grotesquely swollen, skin stretched tight and dark, the flesh beneath angry and distorted.
“Cedric,” Harry said, keeping his voice steady. “How are you doing?”
Cedric squinted up at him, pain etched deep across his face. “Sir Harold?”
Harry looked back to Jo. “Invite me to the party.”
“I’ve been trying,” she said. “It says there’s no Harold Blackstone.”
Harry slapped his palm to his forehead. “Dammit. That’s right. Try Harold Blackheart.”
Jo stared at him. “What? Alright…”
The invite popped up and Harry accepted it at once.
- Harry: Cedric, can you hear me?
- Cedric: Yeah…
- Harry: I’m going to help you the same as I did the mama cat.
- Cedric: Hurry.
Harry leaned back and called up his inventory.
System, this will work, right?
:: System: Probability is high. It worked before. It should work now.
That should is carrying a lot of weight.
Harry pulled a full venom sac from inventory, swapped to Outfit 2 which still left his chest bare, and drove the fang into his stomach.
Jo made a sympathetic flinch and Harry gave her a lopsided grin.
He switched back to the still wet Outfit 1 and waited for the familiar warmth of the heal to kick in.
He reached into his inventory again, taking out the empty venom sac and fang. The same one he had used on the puma. He pressed the fang into his arm and drew his blood into the sac, watching it darken and swell.
- Harry: Cedric, here we go. This might sting a little.
He didn’t wait for an answer. He drove the fang into Cedric’s arm.
Blood squirted out around the puncture. Cedric grunted and his arm jerked. The hand gripping his wrist clenched hard, knuckles bleaching white.
Harry squeezed the venom sac, forced the blood in, and pulled it back out.
- Harry: Alright, that should do it. Just relax.
Cedric’s only response was a small nod.
Jo shifted, “Are you going to hypnotize him like you did Toby?”
Harry nodded, “Yes, but not right away. I don’t want to mask his symptoms till we see if it works.”
They waited.
Cedric’s breathing slowed. His grip eased. The tension drained out of his shoulders, and he let out a long, shuddering sigh. With his Blood Sense, Harry saw that Cedric’s thread became more stable. Stronger.
Harry lifted his head and met Jo’s eyes. He nodded.
Relief washed across her face.
Harry glanced down at his meters.
V: 98 | TM: 11%
- Harry: Cedric, I’m going to hypnotize you, alright? Don’t fight it.
- Cedric: Thank you, Harry.
Harry used Mesmerize and confirmed the message that it had been successful. He quickly checked Cedric over. No other bites. Pulse steady. Mild fever.
“Relax buddy. Just wait here, I’m going to check on Stan.”
Cedric opened his eyes fully. “Go ahead, Harry. I’m fine. I knew you’d come.”
Harry patted his shoulder and stood.
Jo stood with him as she spoke to Cedric, “I’ll be right back, alright?”
Cedric gave a small smile, nodded, and laid his head back down on the grass.
Harry and Jo headed for the bridge. Harry slowed at the base and stopped, eyes fixed on the wooden slats. His feet refused to move.
Jo had already gone several steps out before she noticed. She turned back. “Stan says this side is stable.”
Harry closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths.
You got this, Harry. Nothing to fear but fear itself. And water. And necromancers. And dungeons that hate you…
:: System: On three, Harry?
Harry chuckled and Jo looked at him in confusion till he waved a reassuring hand.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.”
He set one foot onto the bridge. Waited for the sickness to hit. Nothing. He brought up the other foot. Still fine. Moving a half step at a time, hands locked tight on the rails, knuckles white, he followed Jo out.
They stopped a dozen feet back from Stan.
Stan turned when he heard them, spear still leveled toward the gap.
Harry opened his mouth to speak. The words caught in his throat. He swallowed and tried again. “How are you holding up, Stan?”
“I’m good, ain’t I.” Stan nodded toward the far side. “They mostly stopped jumpin’ now.”
Their presence stirred the pack. Bodies pressed and shifted on the far side of the bridge. One venomstalker was pushed to the side, lost its footing, and tumbled over the edge. It dropped into the river and vanished at once, swept away without a sound.
Stan barked a laugh and grinned at Harry. “Just need ‘bout ten more.”
Harry frowned. “For what?”
“To level up.” Stan jerked his chin. “Olly’s keepin’ count. We got a fat bonus when we crossed the bridge, lots of kills, and a title bonus too.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “We got a bonus for going across the bridge?”
Jo cut in. “For making it to the next dungeon level.”
“I been tauntin’ ’em,” Stan said. “Tryin’ to get more to jump. Watch this.”
He held out one hand and mumbled a few words. A hammer flashed into existence in his hand. He stepped forward and hurled it across the gap.
The venomstalkers on the far side turned and ducked. It bounced off one, clattered uselessly across the planks, and fell over the side. None of them jumped.
Stan shrugged, gesturing toward the pack. “Worked at first. But now…”
Harry glanced back to Jo. “Can you shoot them?”
She scowled. “Out of arrows. I can make more, but it’ll take time.”
They fell quiet.
All three stood there, staring across the broken span at the waiting mass of venomstalkers, necks weaving, bodies packed tight, watching them in return.
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In the quiet, Harry realized he still wasn’t feeling sick.
Curious, he took a few slow steps toward the gap, careful, testing it. The boards creaked under his boots. Just short of the broken edge, the nausea hit him along with a feeling of emptiness.
He stopped at once and backed up a step. The sickness faded as quickly as it had come.
Harry looked between them. “I need to tell you something. Running water is one of my weaknesses. I can’t use my abilities when I’m over it.” He glanced down at the planks under his feet. “But I’m fine standing here, even though we’re on the bridge.”
Jo and Stan exchanged a look, then both leaned to peer down at the river.
“Hold on.” Jo used her inventory to instantly put her leather armor back on. The blanket disappearing into the air.
Before Harry could object, she lowered herself onto the bridge and slid forward, ducking under the side rail. She leaned out and looked straight down.
Harry went rigid, every muscle tightening as he watched her.
“I see it,” Jo said from where she lay. “You’re fine here. This end of the bridge is over the riverbank, not the water. Under here it’s all rocks and weeds.”
She scrambled back to her feet and brushed her hands.
Harry stepped forward again. Careful. One foot, then the other. He waited for the sickness to rise.
Nothing.
He shifted his weight, tested it. Still fine. Jo was right.
Harry focused inward and concentrated on his Blood Sense. Threads danced at the edge of his reach, restless and whipping around. He could just reach the lead venomstalkers from here.
“I have an idea,” Harry said.
Jo’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh oh.”
“Nothing too crazy,” Harry shook his head. “What if I try using Mesmerize and make them jump?”
Jo glanced at Stan.
Stan rolled one shoulder and reset his grip on the spear. “Won’t hurt to try.”
“Give me space.” Harry waved them back. “Stan, if one makes it across, don’t push it off. I’ll walk it away from the gap and drain it.”
Stan tilted his head. “And if more follow?”
“Those are yours to do with as you please.”
“Right kind of ya.” Stan gave a shallow mock bow. “Don’t often meet folk with such a kind heart.”
Jo pulled a spear from her inventory and set her feet. “I’ll back up Stan if more come across.”
They spread out along the bridge. Harry took the forward position, as close to the break as he could. Stan and Jo held behind him, weapons ready.
Harry fixed his attention on the venomstalker at the front of the pack.
Mentally he reached for the thread and pulled.
:: Skill [Mesmerize]: Failed (cost: 8 vitae)
Harry winced. “Failed. Based on the cost, it’s level five.”
Jo shifted her weight. “Should we back off?”
Harry glanced at his meters.
“No.” He rolled his shoulders and flexed his hands. “I’ll try again.”
He reached for the thread a second time.
:: Skill [Mesmerize]: Failed (cost: 8 vitae)
“Dammit.” His jaw tightened. He didn’t look away from the creature.
“Third time’s the charm,” he said, mostly to himself.
He pulled again.
:: Skill [Mesmerize]: Successful (cost: 8 vitae)
The venomstalker went still.
Harry let out a short breath. “I got him.” He lifted a hand without turning around. “Alright. Back up.”
V: 73 | TM: 33%
Stan and Jo eased back a few steps, giving him room, weapons still up, ready to surge forward if they had to.
Harry pushed his intent through the thread and spoke loud enough to be heard on the other side. “Alright buddy. Jump to papa.”
The venomstalker obeyed.
It crept forward until its claws scraped the very edge of the boards, coiled its legs, rocked back and forth a few times, and launched itself.
It went high into the air and crossed the gap, long neck extended, legs spread wide. As it came across it fell lower and lower until it passed under the boards on their side, well short of making the leap.
Harry heard it land on the rocks below. A wet, crunching splat carried up from the riverbank.
With his Blood Sense Harry could see the thread was still there. Thin. Frayed. Weak, but alive. It didn’t move.
“It didn’t die,” Harry said quietly.
Jo dropped to one knee and leaned out over the side, one arm looped over the side rail. She peered down for a few seconds, then scrambled back up to her feet. “It’s smashed pretty good though. We’ll get the XP soon.”
Harry didn’t look at her. “It’s suffering.”
Jo and Stan exchanged a worried look.
“They’re not real, Harry.” Jo watched him as she said it.
“The dungeon made ’em,” Stan added.
Jo nodded. “I don’t think those things really exist out in the world.”
“Does that matter to it though?” He didn’t look at them. “It’s still there in pain.”
They stood there in silence for a moment.
“We can stop,” Jo said. “We’re sure to run into something on this side to get the rest of the XP.”
Harry thought it through, slow and deliberate.
System, this next level is the one the dungeon added just for me?
:: System: Affirmative.
“All of us were already too low level.” Harry turned to look at Jo and Stan. “And it’s only going to be worse now.”
He drew in a breath and rolled his shoulders, setting himself. “Let’s finish this.”
Stan glanced down at nothing in particular. “Olly says we got more XP.”
Harry checked his Blood Sense. The thread below them was gone. “Small mercies.”
Harry scratched his head and looked back at Stan. “When they were jumping, how often did one make it across?”
Stan considered it for a second. “One in four. Maybe one in three.”
Harry turned back to the far side of the bridge. “This better work soon.”
Another venomstalker had pushed its way into the lead position. It stood at the edge, neck raised, head swaying slightly as it watched them.
Harry fixed his attention on it and reached to grab its thread.
:: Skill [Mesmerize]: Successful (cost: 8 vitae)
Harry felt his vitae dip.
V: 65 | TM: 45%
Harry willed it to jump across as well as calling to it.
The venomstalker went through the same motions as the other, rocking back and coiling its legs before it jumped. This one came closer. It slammed half onto the bridge, front legs catching on the planks while the rest of its body hung over open air.
Harry moved without thinking. He lunged forward and grabbed it by the front legs, hauling hard. The nausea hit him like a wall but he held on and pulled, boots skidding as he dragged it fully onto the bridge.
Another venomstalker jumped from the other side.
This one cleared the gap cleanly, a perfect leap. It slammed into the back of the one Harry was controlling, rebounded off, and went over the side again. It vanished below the planks.
The wet crunch carried up a heartbeat later.
Harry’s Blood Sense told him it died on impact.
He stepped back from the venomstalker in front of him and lifted one hand to wave it along. “Follow me.”
He turned and started back toward the end of the bridge, slow and careful. The venomstalker followed at once, docile, obedient.
Stan and Jo tried to give it room as it passed. On a bridge that narrow, there wasn’t enough space. Stan sucked in a breath as one of its hairy legs brushed against him. He shuddered but held his ground while it went by.
Back on solid ground, Harry had the venomstalker lie down as best it could. He got himself into position, locked his legs around its body in case Mesmerize broke, clamped both hands on either side of its head, and drove his fang in where the head met the neck and activated Drain.
At the same instant an alert flashed.
:: Skill [Mesmerize]: Failed
The venomstalker came alive under him, thrashing and rolling, trying to tear free. Harry held on.
It turned into a wild joy ride. The intoxicating rush of the Drain flooded through him while the creature bucked and twisted beneath his grip. Ecstasy and violence tangled together, his legs burning as he squeezed tighter, refusing to let go.
Gradually, the struggle weakened. The movements slowed. The heart beneath his fangs faltered and stopped.
Harry released it and pushed himself away.
He looked around, disoriented.
They were nowhere near the bridge anymore. Somehow they’d rolled and dragged their way a good hundred yards across the grass. Harry looked to his side. He was only about a dozen feet from dropping over the cliff that went down to the riverbed.
Damn. That was close.
:: System: I was watching and would have alerted you.
Would I have listened?
:: System: If history is any indication, no.
Harry checked his meters.
Fully topped off, with a little extra.
Harry burned one of the excess vitae into strength, bent, and hauled the body up. He carried it back across the grass and set it down a short way from where Cedric now slept.
Next to the body he laid out some of the surgical equipment from his inventory. That done he turned and headed back for the bridge. He moved faster this time, more confident, but still careful where he placed his feet, and kept a strong grip on the rails.
“Jo,” he said as he passed her. “Could you remove the venom glands from that one?”
She headed toward dry ground. “Sure thing, Harry.”
He stopped next to Stan. “You’re alright here alone after I get another one?”
Stan made a shooing gesture with one hand. “It’s tricky when you’re crowdin’ the front. But between us, we can handle it.”
They settled into a rhythm.
Harry worked the lead venomstalker again and again, using Mesmerize until it took and commanding them to jump. Most fell short and vanished below the bridge. He forced himself not to dwell on the sounds that followed, the hissing and scraping when they didn’t die on impact. He simply moved on to the next one.
When one made it across, he walked it away from the gap and drained it. But he had learned one lesson and looped a length of rope around its body and cinched it to the nearest tree, a crude leash to keep them from going over the side. Jo continued to work on removing the fangs and venom sacs after Harry finished with them.
Occasionally one or two jumped on their own, agitated by the chaos. Most missed. Once, two launched at the same time, collided midair, and dropped together under the bridge.
Stan called out at one point, voice sharp with excitement. They’d leveled up.
“After,” Harry said, without turning. Everyone agreed.
Time dragged. Eventually the mass on the far side thinned enough for Harry to notice the change. The pressure eased. By now the sun was low on the horizon and stars were beginning to peek out. At the rear, a few venomstalkers began to peel away, slipping back toward the trees on the far bank, retreating into the dark.
At last there was only one left.
Harry frowned when he saw it clearly. One leg was gone, cut away high up. Recognition hit him. It was one of the first ones he’d hit when they’d been running.
He focused and pushed Mesmerize again.
It took on the first try.
Harry glanced at his meters. Vitae was overflowing, bleeding off slowly. Even losing one per second, it would take a while before the excess burned away.
He looked back at the venomstalker and lifted a hand, waving it away. “Go home.”
The creature turned without hesitation and ran.
It limped down the bridge, crossed the clearing beyond, and vanished into the trees on the far side, swallowed by the dark.
Harry looked to Stan, waiting to see if he would say anything. Stan only shrugged. His spear vanished into his inventory and he clapped his hands together with a grin. “Now the fun bit.”
Harry checked his experience.
:: Class: Vampire Level 2 (2,598/4,000)
This leveling business is slow.
:: System: True. Unsurprisingly, you did level Mesmerize today.
What will change?
:: System: Slightly improved chance for success and a marginal increase to range.
Wonderful.
“Stan, you go ahead.” Harry stretched. He felt tired and dirty. His clothes and armor had dried at some point while he was wearing them. “I think I’m going to stay here and watch the sun go down.”
Stan lingered a moment, awkward, shifting his weight. He reached out and set a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Thank you, Harry.”
He turned and headed off the bridge toward where Jo and Cedric sat talking.
Harry watched as the other two got to their feet to greet Stan. There were hugs, hands on shoulders, a slap on the back. Quiet laughter drifted across the grass.
When they settled again, Harry turned away.
He moved one careful step past the place where he had stood calling venomstalkers to their deaths. The boards creaked under his weight. He felt the first stirrings of nausea.
He sat down and crossed his legs. The sun hung low, orange and heavy, sliding away to the west.
After a moment, he leaned to the side and looked down. Water rushed below, dark and cold, cutting around rocks and vanishing downstream.
He thought about Tommy.
The voices behind him faded until they were only sound, not words, and he sat there alone with the river and the falling light.
***
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