Fantasy Bound Together

[Aldir]

Circles, geometric designs, they made sense really even when dealing with things that did not make rational sense. They were things that possessed no beginning and no end, a perfect symbolization for the undead really. Creatures that possessed no real true beginning and not real true end by natural means, for death was their beginning and their existence was eternal by its very nature. It was still a rather complex equation to be sure; to create a true undead was a task that even after so many long years of research Alton had yet to figure out. The dark haired man knew something was missing, but it eluded him time and again.


The sound of chalk and stone floor scraping together sounded out through the basement laboratory, a series of circles being drawn upon the floor. Spectacles had fallen down to the tip of Alton’s nose, his coat cast aside as he worked on the tools of his magic. His art was unrefined most certainly, amateurish, but it was functional and functionality was what he went for. Once the first circle was completed the man drew a smaller circle within it. Once this was completed the man drew four lines connecting the outer circle to the inner circle.


With this completed the man started inscribing runes around the outer circle, the letters seeming to tug at the eyes and appear naturally wrong. Alton was not ripped from his task by this vague feeling however, instead tirelessly working on the runes around the outer circle. These runes named what he wanted to accomplish, adding life to something that was lifeless. From here he placed a similar set of runes along the inside of the inner circle, these ones possessing a similar task though it was more structure based. They were tasked with the functions he desired upon the corpse, these ones involving memory and the mind. He wanted to see if he could make an animated corpse remember its past life.


Once this was completed, the man stood and examined the circles as he crossed his arms across his chest. As far as he could tell the circles were exactly what he would need, naming the task and intent functionally. He uncrossed his arms and pushed his half-moon spectacles further up to the bridge of his nose. With that he turned on his heel, his finger catching upon a blade upon his desk nearby, slicing into the flesh. Alton hissed and moved his hand up, a drop of blood splashing out to drip upon the outer circle.


Activated by blood, a bright light shone upon the circles. The energy within found no host to enact their tasks upon and so the tendrils of power reached outwards, latching onto the surprised novice necromancer. He was not ashamed to admit that he screamed in pain as the pure energy arced through his entire body, though it seemed to be unsatisfied with him alone and continued to reach out from the basement lab. For his part, Alton could not remember this much pain in all of his life being enacted upon him.


The pain tore through every rational though, tearing at his mind as it worked its way through him. He continued to scream, his vocal cords starting to feel hoarse from the sounds that were forced out from them. It was to the point where he though his very skin would start to peel back from his body, it continued to grow and grow with no end in sight. As the crescendo approached the energy had by that point found its way out of his house above and creeping into the street as the black energy searched for another host.

 

[Mikanu]

The night was young, the stars were shining. There were so many possibilities tonight, so many ways to go. Perhaps getting caught would make things more exciting. It would add a tint of danger to this life, would it not? Elise pondered over it like she had so many nights before. She wondered if she was the only one crazy enough to even consider doing such a thing. The thought made her smile.


She was being hunted by her very own pack of vampires. Her own group going against her! What a nerve they all had. It wasn't like it was not to be expected, however. She knew her place, who she was, why they held an infinite amount of hatred towards her. They were just a bunch of fools, all of them. Elise hated them as much as they hated her.


Mud caked her clothes. She was completely covered in it, head to toe, only her short black hair spared. It was a shame, these clothes she had found were the best she had worn in decades. However, it was a necessity. Hiding her smell was an important part if she wanted to stay alive. Did she want to stay alive? Living would mean getting hunted down, running for eternity, feeling the tendrils of danger creeping up for the rest of her eternal, miserable life. Elise shivered at the thought. Danger lay everywhere, but she was a careful one. She had learned how to cope with all of this. Her vampire instincts were useful now in this time of need and they were there for her even when her mind became frozen from fear, when her feet refused to move, when her hands shook wildly.


Her violet eyes scanned the area. It was a simple town she was in now. It wasn't large, but it wasn't small enough that she should keep moving. No, she'd stay, at least for a little while. She needed to rest. The night wasn't going to be around forever, it would soon be pushed away by the terrible terrible sunlight.


She stopped moving when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Elise turned quickly, her cape billowing behind her. The vampire stared at the tendrils that seemed to rise straight from the ground, their color much darker than the night itself. Her instincts told her to run. She turned again, a sharp pivot, and was off. Elise seemed to get merely two steps away before her whole being experienced a rather sharp pain that wracked her entire body.


There were no screams that came from her, her jaws clenched tightly shut as the pain moved throughout her body. It was such a slow process, as if someone was tearing out her organs one by one, as if all the life was being drained out of her body. Elise could not move willingly, not a single inch. She lay on the ground, her body going through spasms, tears streaming down her face since her mouth refused to let out the pain in screams. The mysterious force inside her got into her mind, and for a long long second she felt like she had exploded.


Her mind flinched as she started to hear screaming, screaming coming from within. The voice was not her own, though her jaws unclenched and she screamed along with this voice, screamed even though her lungs felt like they were about to burst, screamed so loudly it was a miracle that no one heard. No one heard, only the one she was now becoming bound to.

 

[Aldir]

Alton found that his mind itself was being filled with another entity, as though the screaming was not only his own but that of another mind. This only compounded upon the pain, perhaps it was a sign that the intense pain was driving him further over the edge of madness. The man wanted to cry out but his voice was already strained to the limit. It hurt to scream any longer and tears leaked from his eyes as the magic arced through his body. He tried to think of something else, of anything else beyond just the searing pain of a botched spell.


His mind moved to the face of his wife, to the one he had done all of this for. He closed his eyes, knowing that with his death failure would stain his soul. How many had attempted to step within the domain of God, and how many had met his fate? Alton wanted the pain to end, though at the same time he feared the possibility of his own death. He had worked so very hard to snatch souls from the grasp of death, however now it seemed that very fate he had sought to prevent loomed over his head.


Eventually the pain did begin to fade and Alton was left panting upon the floor, his muscles screaming in protest the moment he attempted to try and rise. The effort was met with little to no success, at least at first. Soon enough he managed to get to his feet, legs wobbling dangerously as he clutched a table for support. The man felt something within him, and invisible force seeming to tug at him towards a certain direction. This odd affliction could likely only be a product of whatever force he had managed to unleash with his mistake.


Regardless he appeared to be alive, though such a description could very well have been premature given how much his body wished that it were otherwise. He now knew why the books had claimed that the circles always needed a host with them, without the anchor the energy within could escape. Fortunate that he had not met his end here, though the force still tugged at his heart, willing his feet to drag themselves above. Beyond that he could feel something else in his mind, a craving not his own that normally remained in the back of a mind marred by the shroud of undeath.


Visions of memories not his own flooded his mind, of feasts of crimson steel as the metallic taste flowed over sculpted and perfect lips. Alton had no idea where these vivid memories were coming from, but they were overwhelming his senses in a rush as he felt things that were not from his own mind. The mortician tried to stem the tide, instead focusing on a recent dissection of a body, closing his eyes as he envisioned his blade gliding elegantly over the surface of cold and dead flesh. It seemed to be working though, there was still one thing on his mind.


What had he just seen?