The Utterly Uninteresting and Unadventurous Tales of Fred, the Vampire Accountant (6 page)

4.

“I have
got
to stop leaving the apartment,” I mumbled to myself as we skulked through the forest towards the main area where everyone was assembled. I mean “skulked” in a very literal way. It seems all of we Revivalist vampires had an ability to blend in with the scenery and become more or less invisible. According to the back of the badge, the way we signified this was by moving hunching over and moving carefully, as well as putting up our index fingers on both sides of our heads.

That’s right; I was hunching my way through the forest with finger horns. Somehow, when I was human and dreamed about a different kind of life, one where I was powerful and immortal, this was a scenario I had never imagined. Most of those fantasies had been cheap rip-offs of well-done films, involving me being socially gregarious as well as unstoppably cool. I couldn’t even fathom what would make someone incorporate something this asinine into their own fantasies. Still, I was supposed to blend, so blend I did.

It took us considerable time to get back to the main event, mostly because of our slow moving pace, but finally we parted a section of trees and found ourselves facing the mingling crowd and a folding table stocked with foam weapons. Lord Drake jerked his head northward, and we began our agonizing walk in that direction.

Let me tell you something: I’ve been forced to do some ridiculous things in my lifetime. I’ve put my head in the toilet for swirlies, eaten dirt, even been made to dance like a cha-cha girl on one humiliating occasion, all to avoid being beaten up. For the dickens though, I cannot imagine what would make someone willingly do what we did as we crept through the crowd. We did our hunch walk with our finger horns, skulking through them, all the while pretending they couldn’t see us.  Adding to the oddness, they all clearly noticed us and wanted to know what was going on, but had to pretend we were invisible.

It was like embarrassment and stupidity, compacted. To their credit, not one person broke character and approached us, and we moved past the majority of the players into a more open area on the north side of the park. From there we could see Emperor Nikolai speaking in hushed tones to some of the other players. One of them was the person with the Charlie Brown ghost costume, and one looked to be wearing a werewolf mask, so they were pretty obvious. The other two I recognized even more easily, though. They were Albert the Henchman and my own dear Sunny the Succubus.

I briefly wondered why she was a part of the little pow-wow, but I guessed it made sense. If you need to investigate, why not go right to the top?

None of that changed the plan, though. Lord Drake had known that Emperor Nikolai would be speaking to a few delegates at a time, with only his servant Albert as protection. I wasn’t sure what kind of monster Albert was, and I hadn’t had a chance to ask, but Lord Drake seemed pretty certain we would be able to overpower him easily. The goal here was for us to creep up on the separated few and spring into action. Each of us was supposed to do battle with one of the delegates, while Lord Drake and two of his servants took down the emperor. That way the “kill” would be assigned to Lord Drake and he would then have cause to lobby that he should be the new emperor. New emperor means he makes the rules, which means no more hiding from the humans, and yada yada yada.

The main point I had gleaned from all of that was I needed to pick a person and play rock-paper-scissors with them. Either they won, or I did. After that none of this was my problem anymore, and hopefully Krystal was ready to go.

We resumed our skulking, moving delicately, yet purposefully, toward our soon-to-be-deposed emperor. Lord Drake, Maria, and another girl broke off to circle around toward the rear where the emperor was located. The rest of us continued creeping up on our targets. Since I was near her side anyway, I locked my vision on Krystal and decided to “battle” her. I think it was because I was focused only on her that I noticed the quick gesture she made, scratching the top of her nose with her thumb. I had only an instant to ponder why she would use a thumb instead of a finger, when strange words rang through the air.

“
Ectorim Novendum, Bicradalio
.
” It was Neil’s voice, and it rang out with authority and power, more than I would have ever thought the kid capable of. When he spoke again, it was somewhat less impressive.

“As you have all noticed, you are now frozen in place thanks to my spell,” Emperor Nikolai said, closing the large black tome he had obviously read from and handing it to Albert. “None of you have applicable immunities or resistances, and yes, we are quite aware that you Revivalists are here. Your camouflage power was dispelled the moment I froze you.”

There was a ripple of gasping and shock from our vampires as well as nearby players.

“I’d suspected for some time you might try an uprising, so I took necessary precautions,” he continued. At this point Krystal, or I should say
Sunny
, bounced over and stood smiling dumbly as he slipped an arm around her. “My new consort here is a succubus, and as most of you should know, they possess the ability to see past all veils and illusions.”

Emperor Nikolai released his grip on Sunny and walked over to Lord Drake, who, to his credit, was remaining stock still, and leaned into Drake’s face. “So, the great Lord Drake reduced to nothing more than a mere mannequin. How elegantly pathetic. You underestimated me Drake; you thought that just because I was genetically a human I would go down easy. After all, what possible threat can a mere mage be?” Emperor Nikolai stepped back from Drake and walked back over to his own group, picking up the black book from Albert’s waiting hands.

“You should have done a little research first, Drake. You might have realized I’m not just a mage. I’m a necromancer, a spell caster with power over all forms of death, and that includes the undead. Binding you walking corpses required little more effort from me than turning a page.” Emperor Nikolai gave Drake a look of sheer condescension, gloating without restraint. “Now the only question is what to do with you all. I think I shall unbind you, after wrapping you in silver chains of course, so that Albert may escort you back into the forest. I will finish up my party with my dear subjects, and spend the time thinking of a fitting punishment for you.”

With that the emperor clapped his hands, and Albert pulled a large chest from behind a tree. He began pulling out long lengths of chain as well as several padlocks. Albert started with Lord Drake, then slowly made his way to each of us, covering us in the chains so we could barely move, and connecting us into one giant undead chain gang.

None of which was my biggest concern. You see, my problem had started the minute good old Neil had shouted those gibberish words. I was frozen like ice, unable to move even my own eyes. That spell of his had been real, and I was captured by it, which meant three things:

1.  I wasn’t the only real monster here.

2. I was the worst possible race to try and stop him.

3. We were in deep shit.
Again
.

5.

Walking back into the forest was something of a chore. Neil had used another spell to unfreeze us, and it had given me back my range of motion, but there was still the fact that we were all shackled together that made the commute pretty challenging. Adding onto that was that Albert had been oddly thorough in chaining our hands behind our backs and our legs close together. Everyone else seemed to be pretty into the scene, impressed that Neil had planned this far ahead and gone to such lengths for realism.

I was the only one truly concerned, but that was because I was the only one who knew Neil had used a set of real spells and had bound us with real chains, though thankfully not real silver ones. Silver doesn’t hurt me, per se, but it does weaken me and, if exposed to my skin, makes me break out in a terrible rash. Even with undead regeneration, it takes days to fade. Seriously, ten buckets of calamine won’t soothe the itch that gleaming metal leaves behind.

Albert was moving up and down the line, giving direction to the front while coordinating our movements in the back. Officially he was there to make sure none of us tried to escape. I think in truth he was just making sure we didn’t go tumbling down like a row of dominoes. I watched him as he moved, watched him more carefully than I had the rest of that evening. He was quick with his movements, not quite fluid, but well above jerky. He was about as pale as the rest of the made-up vampire squad, but a few shades above my own dead skin. And he still reeked of earth. This kid must have either been playing in the mud every time we didn’t see him or have spent a few days marinating in dirt.

I’m sure a few of you have gotten there already, but this was the point where it all finally sunk home. Constantly obedient, reeked of earth, dirty clothes, and paler than normal skin; it was clear Albert wasn’t alive. I focused my hearing, first noticing the sounds of the forest, then the mingling partygoers to my rear, and then at last I heard the heartbeats of those around me. My senses seemed to hone in on that, like they’d been looking for it all along. I shook off the implications of what that probably meant and began listening to one person at a time. Once I was confident I had heard a beat from everyone of my captured cohorts, I turned my focus to Albert.

I got nothing. Not a heartbeat, not a gasp for air
—
nothing but the sounds of his bones scraping and muscles twanging as he scampered about. Hey, I said vampire senses were powerful, not that they weren’t gross.

All of this sounds like it happened quickly, but the truth is that between splitting my focus on listening and walking we had finally reached our destination by the time I confirmed my Albert hypothesis. He moved down the line, wearing a giant smile as he was helping each of us sit down on the ground so we would be comfortable while we waited for the emperor to come judge us. I was at the end of the line, so I was left standing till the end.

By providence or coincidence, I had been further away from most of the others when we were frozen, which meant I had a fair amount of chain separating me from the player in front of me. I began carefully inching my way backwards. When Albert sat me down, I wanted as much space from anyone else as possible. I had some questions that were most definitely not for public hearing.

It took some time due to Albert’s care with helping each player down, but he finally reached me. He stood behind my back and told me to slowly lower my knees. I did as instructed, waiting until my butt was on the ground, and he was bent over my shoulders just about to let go of me before speaking.

“So,” I said, trying with all my might to be casual. “What are you anyway, Albert?”

Instead of answering he released his grip and walked around in front of me. He then took a knee so we were eye to eye and pointed to his badge. There, in clear black ink, it said: “Zombie.”

“Are you really?” I asked, doing what I hoped was arching an eyebrow.

“Of course, I am Albert the Unstoppable Zombie, raised by Emperor Nikolai and existing only to serve his every whim,” Albert declared proudly.

“No . . . damnit, you’re not getting the point. Forget the game. Are you an actual zombie?” I asked again.

Now Albert’s relentlessly cheerful face was getting wary and worried. Even I could tell I was at least on the right track. “Don’t be silly,” he said, hushing his tone slightly. “There’s no such thing as zombies.”

“Right. Just like there’s no such thing as real necromancers who cast real spells and take a bunch of real people chained up out into the woods with no witnesses.”

Albert didn’t say anything after that, just widened his eyes and began chewing on his lower lip.

“Okay, I’ll be honest with you,” I said. “I know you’re a real zombie, and Neil is a real necromancer. I don’t really care about either of those things. Live and let live. That’s my expression. Just tell me that all of this is part of the game, and there is nothing sinister afoot, and I’ll hang out and play along until my date comes to pick me up for the movie. I really don’t want trouble; I just wanted to go to the movies. So just say it’s part of the game.
Please
.”

Albert stopped chewing and just looked at me. He looked very much like a puppy going through potty training that slips up and pees on the rug. Guilty and apologetic, with the resignation that he couldn’t change what had already happened.

“Fudge,” I swore.

“I’m really, really sorry,” Albert said, rocking back off his knee and sitting next to me Indian style. “I wanted to warn you guys, or to stop him, but I just couldn’t.”

“Because you’re a supernatural being under his thrall?” I asked.

“No, because he’s my best friend. My only friend, actually. Even when I was alive it was the two of us. He’d come up with crazy schemes, and I’d follow along with them. He just got so wrapped up in things
.
I could never seem to talk him out of stuff. Besides, most of the time I just felt lucky to have even one friend. I mean
,
there was never all that much interesting about me, and now that I’m dead, I’m even less socially desirable.”

“Yeah, I know how that goes,” I said, summoning the most consoling tone I could under the circumstances. Okay, sure he had been part of a scheme to kidnap a bunch of people out into the woods for heaven only knew what, but I couldn’t help feeling for the kid. I’d been in about the same boat for my whole life, and most of my afterlife. “I wasn’t exactly Mr. Popular myself.”

“Few people who come to these events are
.
That’s why they were so much fun. I don’t imagine you’ve had it quite that bad, though. I saw the girl you came here with. And besides, at least you’re not some undead freak,” Albert said. It was weird. Even when trying to mope, his voice still had a happy, sing-songy style.

“Um . . . well . . . that’s not entirely true,” I said.

Albert looked up from the ground he had been staring at and directly at me. It was less like he was looking at me, though, more like he was studying me carefully. “Just how untrue is it?” Albert asked.

In response I opened my mouth, showing my human looking teeth. With a bit of concentration I did the trick I was finally getting the hang of, letting my canines extend to long, razor-sharp points. I then pulled them back to normal, which was much harder than letting them grow, and closed my mouth.

Albert’s, however, hung open in surprise. After a few minutes of opening and closing his jaw, he finally got his tongue back in working order and said, “I guess that explains how you knew Neil was the real deal.”

“Unfortunately, yes it does. Wait, you’re undead. Why didn’t it work on you?”

Albert shrugged. “I think creatures that you animate are immune from your own generic spells. You have to target them directly, or some such protocol. Neil explained it to me once after he brought me back, but I’ve never been smart enough to understand stuff like that.”

“Oh,” I said. We lapsed into silence after that, captor and captive deciding where to go from here. I opted to try and ask the question I’d never been able to ask anyone else since my transformation. I mean, when was I going to get another chance like this?

“So, if it isn’t prying,” I said carefully. ”Can I ask how you died?”

There was only silence at first, then I heard Albert’s voice say softly, “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“I understand,” I .said quickly. “I can barely even remember my death. It seems like I’ve almost totally blocked it out. If you do remember yours, then I can only guess at how traumatic that must be. I’m sorry I asked. It’s just . . . You’re the first other undead person I’ve met.”

“Ummmm, it isn’t really that it was traumatic. Just embarrassing,” Albert said.

“What makes it so bad?” I asked.

“How much do you know about autoerotic asphyxiation and the accidents that come with it?”

“You know what, I think I’ve got the picture,” I said, words so hurried I nearly broke into a stutter. “So . . . that happened, then Neil brought you back. Was he always a necromancer?”

“Nah,” Albert said quickly, obviously grateful to be off the topic of his death. “He was a science geek for years. He used to make fun of me for loving the occult and stuff like this. But after I died, apparently he went off the deep end a little bit. He even went to his grandpa for help.” Albert gave his head a small shake, sending strands of his long, moderately unkempt hair in front of his dark eyes.

“Was his grandfather a necromancer too?” I asked, getting drawn in a bit.

“Not that we know of, but his grandmother was a real famous medium back in the day. Before she died, she accumulated a bunch of supposedly magical stuff, and one of the things there was that black book.”

“Gotcha. So he found the book, gave it a try, and, low and behold, it’s the real deal,” I said, finishing the story in my mind.

“More or less. Apparently, you also have to have the talent for the magic to work, which Neil has, and he tried a few times before he brought me back. But yeah, one day my eyes popped open, and I’m underground. Crawl my way out, and there’s my best friend, cackling like a mental patient and saying he’s uncovered the magics of the gods.”

“Sounds like your friend went on a power trip,” I said carefully.

“I know. He’s gotten more and more obsessed with it, too. He keeps saying he needs greater power, needs to expand his abilities, needs to steal people’s life force—” Albert shut his mouth quickly, but unfortunately not even zombies can clam up fast enough to steal their own words back.

“Ah, so that’s what this is about. Let me guess . . . ancient rite, kills us all, and uses our souls, or life force, or whatever to gather tremendous power for himself?” I asked already knowing the answer.

Albert was clearly impressed. “Are you a necromancer too?”

“No.” I sighed. “I’m just a numbers guy, and that means I can see an obvious pattern when it’s set in front of me. Look, Albert, you seem like a good guy. We need to get out of here, and you’re the one with the keys. You know what your friend is doing is wrong, so hurry and help us before—”

“Good evening, my rebellious subjects!” Neil said as he stepped into the clearing, large black tome in hand. “I trust you have all had time to contemplate your crimes and are ready for penance?”

“—that happens.”