Chapter 39: 40: Creepy Crawly

Fresh tears at the handle, yanking the door open wide and holding the wobbly blade fearfully out in front of herself. Out towards the dark hallway.

Nothing is there.

The girl quivers, tears forming in her fearful eyes. “J… Jubileee~” she whines through clenched teeth, not sure what else to do.

*DHUNK*

Fresh looks up, jolting at the sudden noise and then falls down, back into the room as she screams, as she sees the thing on the ceiling.

A pale, distorted mass of paper-white flesh is illuminated for a brief second by the flash of lightning outside. Its body is simply a lumpy blob, out of which multiple rail-thin human-arms span in all directions, like the legs of a spider. A long, wormy neck protrudes from the mass, wriggling along its serpentine length.

Fresh crawls back, not able to get up. her legs not responding to what she wants them to do. Not able to make noise. Her throat clenches shut as she sees it and she crawls further back in fear.

The long, white neck of the thing reaches down, coming in through the doorway. Its body stays outside in the hall as its face comes closer. Its empty, misshapen face. A human’s once, perhaps, but now it is as if skin had grown over the eyes, sealing them shut entirely. Its mouth is held open and filled with long, dagger-like protrusions that are coated in a wet, interconnecting slime. The wide slit of its maw goes from ear to ear, its jaw dislocated like a snake’s. The neck stretches out further towards her, seemingly stretching out further and further as she presses her back against the wall by the window. The knife has long since fallen out of her hands and lays by the door.

Instinctively, Fresh’s hand grabs something and she swings it outward. Smashing the burnt-out torch against the side of the creature’s face, smashing the wood into its cheek. Spittle flies out from its flat lips, as the stick cracks against the bones of its jaw. The head shifts an inch, but still faces forward towards her as the shaft of the torch breaks apart in her hands.

"FRESH HIT SANGUIS-VAMPYRIS FOR 1 PHYSICAL DAMAGE!"

It lunges, Fresh’s other hand grabs the blanket and throws it over the long face, just as she drops down to the side. A loud crack rings out, as the head of the blinded creature smashes against the wall behind Fresh, as she begins frantically scrambling to her feet, hurrying to run out the door that the neck protrudes in through. Pale hands reach down from above, grasping and swiping through the air in the door-frame.

Fresh screams again as something clutches her hair, yanking on it. The door next to her flies open.

“DUCK!”

Fresh drops down instinctively, but the thing still holds her by her hair and she feels a deep tear, as several thick strands of it rip free. Glass flies above her head, just as she closes her eyes and covers her face. The girl falls to her knees as something holding her aloft is severed and she scrambles, still crawling, still running out of pure survival instinct. Ignoring the sound of something heavy flopping down behind her. Her heart thrashes, her chest heaves, her eyes are wet. She stumbles around, falling over again, out in the hallway, crawling back from her room as Jubilee throws a bag of dirt onto the floor. A jagged pane of glass shoots up from the dirt, sliding up the doorway, like an executioner's guillotine.

Two wet things fall down, cut in half, as the blade slices through the long, wormy neck.

Fearfully, Fresh looks back at the horrible, mangled lump of a body that lays at her feet and she crawls away further, not able to get up again as the bony fingers spasm and twitch, as they still continue to reach for her.

“FUCKING SHIT!”

Jubilee looks at the thing and then at her and runs by, grabbing her hand to get her to get up. “Come on! We gotta go!”

Fresh jumps up, letting herself be dragged away as they run down the stairs. Her mind races. Is this some nightmare? Is this some… some creature from the dungeon? Some monster from some dark pit that had chosen her on tonight of all nights?

They bolt out of the store, slamming the door shut behind themselves. The storm rages on and the night-air is heavy and damp, as the drone of thunder roars out in the darkness. The empty streets are illuminated by the flashes of heavenly lightning as they run through them, puddles splashing knee high, soaking both of them from below as the pouring rain does so from above.

“Jubileee~” cries Fresh, wanting to ask what was happening. Why are they running? Isn’t it dead? Jubilee had cut its head off. Jubilee doesn’t say anything and they run through the rain, down the main road, down towards the adventurer’s guild. Fresh turns her head around just as they leave the house behind and she can’t help but notice the silhouette of a face pressing itself against the inside of her bedroom window.

“Do you have the key?!”

“No! It’s in my bag!” shouts Fresh, trying to talk over the loud rain.

Jubilee opens the door and they both step inside, closing it behind themselves.

Fresh looks around. The tavern is empty now in the dead of night, save for the haunting voice that still sings, if only just for them now. The voice calls out as if lamenting the storm itself. Water drips down from her soaked body, creating a puddle where she stands, her back is still pressed against the door.

Jubilee runs towards the counter and, as if having heard their coming, the same elf woman as always walks out from the kitchen behind the bar and looks at her curiously, before turning their attention to Jubilee who gestures the number two with their fingers, pressing the tips against their neck.

The barkeeper looks at them and then up to Fresh curiously, but then nods and thinks for a moment, before holding out their hand with five fingers and pulling out a key from below the counter. Jubilee nods and takes it with a wave, gesturing for Fresh to follow them as they run upstairs and into the cut-off space of their room inside of the adventurer’s guild.

The two of them pass through the nebulous cloud in the doorway and barge into the room. Jubilee slams the door shut behind themselves and then falls down against it, sliding to the floor.

Fresh stares at them, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu as she looks at the small body down against the door. “Jubilee-“

Jubilee hits a fist against the door, their wet leather glove slapping against the wood. “That old bitch!” Fresh stops. Jubilee looks back up to her. “I didn’t think Donata would go this far.” They rise up to their feet. “FUCK!” Jubilee kicks the door with the sole of their boot and the wood rattles loudly. They look back up towards Fresh. Grabbing her arm, they pull her wet sleeves up to her elbows. “Did it get you?!”

“N-no, I’m fine,” says Fresh, hoping her jittering legs didn’t betray her half-lie. “Jubilee, what was that thing? What does -”

“It’s a vampire,” says Jubilee, looking up to her with angry eyes. “This reeks of that old witch.” Their gloves creak as they clench their fingers tightly down. “No offense.”

“Huh?” asks Fresh.

Jubilee walks past her towards the table in the center of the room, swinging their arms out to shake the water off. “Congratulations. You just survived your first assassination!” Fresh looks at Jubilee. Vampire? Assassination? “I should have known something was up when she made a move.” Jubilee pulls the chair out and flops onto it. “I thought she was just pissed off because we stole her customers, but she must’ve gotten some of your hair when she hit you.” They shake themselves out again. “That conniving, crusty, old-”

Fresh’s eyes go wide. Jubilee knows about her encounter? “When did you…?” begins the girl.

Jubilee looks over to her. “I saw.” They nod, approvingly. “You did good. You have no idea how long I wanted to see someone deck her.”

Fresh steps forward, lost and confused. “Were you following me?!”

“No, goo-brain! As if I don’t see enough of your pale ass all day!” Jubilee crosses their arms and looks away. Both of them are silent for a while.

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They sigh, relenting. “...I thought I’d go with you, to celebrate our first day of work. But when I rounded the corner I just saw you absolutely thrashing that crippled, elderly woman, like a mob-boss collecting protection-money. Nice punch by the way!” They nod approvingly again, looking up at the ceiling. “Didn’t know you had it in you. Don’t be afraid to hit old people. Sometimes they’re the ones who need to be hit the hardest!”

Fresh looks around, water dripping from her body and soaked robe that clings to her clammy skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she rubs her arm. “I thought I messed up and I didn’t want you to be mad.”

Jubilee shakes their head. “No, if you hadn’t stopped her from seeing your menu like that, then…” they look over towards her. “We would have had to resort to more drastic measures.”

“Huh…?” asks Fresh, taken somewhat aback. “You don’t mean…”

Jubilee slams a fist onto the table and points to her with the other one. “She literally sent a vampire after you to kill you in your sleep! How many times do I have to tell you what this game is that we’re playing?!”

“Aren’t we safe? Why would she do that? Isn’t the guild going to…?”

Jubilee shrugs, loosening their posture. “Donata is her own woman. She’s not afraid of the merchant’s guild.” They shoot a glance back at her. “She should be though. The barkeeper is going to notify the church, they’ll take care of it within the hour, knowing them. Exorcists are a hardcore bunch, those creepy hymn-chanting fucks.” Jubilee runs their fingers through the edges of their hood. “But a vampire in the city isn’t going to be kept secret. The merchant’s guild is going to hear of this, if they haven’t already.”

Fresh walks over, sitting down on the other chair. “Isn’t it… dead? You cut off its head.”

“It was dead before you opened the door. Which you shouldn’t do, by the way.”

“Huh?” asks Fresh again.

“Vampires can only come inside if you let them in,” says Jubilee, waving her off. “But I guess I can’t have expected you to know that. Shit…” they lean back on their chair. “It probably could come into the store because it’s an ‘open’ space now. Lots of energy from all of the people today, you know?” They say, staring up at the ceiling. “But your room is a personal space. Vampires need permission to cross boundaries.”

Fresh thinks for a while as they sit in silence. Vampires? Obviously she remembers the term from her old life, but those memories of them are more… flamboyant and dramatic. Less… meaty, grotesque and toothy. “What now?” she asks Jubilee.

They look back at her. “We’re safe here. Well, you are. It just wants you. She probably gave it some of your hair and it followed the scent. They’re very goal-oriented creatures, vampires. Gotta give em’ that.” They cross their arms behind their head and sigh. “It’s five hours until sunrise, until then we stay here, while the church and the merchant's guild do their thing.”

“Should we… should we tell them? That it was her?”

“Do you have any proof?” asks Jubilee.

Fresh looks away. “No…”

“Me neither,” they say, shrugging. “But, I wouldn’t worry about that. These things…” they fidget uncomfortably, which bothers Fresh somewhat. “These things have a ‘way’ of working themselves out. We’re not going to get involved any more than we have to.”

Fresh sighs. Tired. Exhausted. “So it’s not dead-dead?”

“Nope. It’s probably sniffing outside the guild this very second. Crawling up a wall or something. I fucking hate vampires. Disgusting, long-necked shits,” says Jubilee with some venom. “The church will take care of it. They hate them. They hate everything, honestly, but in this case I tend to agree with their views.”

Fresh looks up to Jubilee. “…Are they going to look in your house?”

“What?” asks Jubilee.

“The church, are they going to look for it in your house?”

“Uh… maybe? I don’t know. It should be around here, but gods know what they're going to want to snoop through while figuring out where it came from.”

The girl rubs her arm. “My grimoire is still there.”

The legs of Jubilee’s chair fall forward. “Your what…?” They stare at her.

“My book… It just looks like a normal book, but if any of them open it and read it…” she rubs her arm. “It'll be kind of obvious. That I’m a witch.”

“Fuck.” Jubilee stares at her. “FUCK!” they jump up and run to the door, pointing a finger back at her. “Don’t leave this room until the sun shines through that window or until I come get you!” With that they bolt out of the door, leaving Fresh sitting alone in the giant, empty room once again.

Razmatazz

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