A WRITER IN GAME MAKER'S CLOTHING

To clarify what I mean by that, more often than not I prefer to classify myself as a writer rather than game maker. My work in progress novels and stories outnumber my games 1/100- each leads me closer to well-developed writing and a style of my own. Someone once said 'a writer must write 1 million words of crap'...I believe I'm getting close.

Anyway, this story is called 'Despite Destiny'. Familiar? I posted two pages of the comic in the random art topic. They are not completely synched (dialogue in the comic is different to that in the story) because the two are different mediums requiring different styles. Also, the comic has a much heavier emphasis on humour- the story form is darker.
The time period of this story is meant to be very vague. At least, you can safely assume it's probably set earlier than now, but I don't clarify. Intentionally.

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Chapter One
-~Rebirth-~



It was cold, that night.
Lukas paced back and forth along the path, his head hung, his hands shoved into his pockets and his mouth in a hard, angry line. The night was clear, the stars glittering like fairy lights on a velvet blanket, but the wind was howling and bitterly cold. It clearly indicated that winter was on its way as it tore the golden brown leaves from the trees and swirled them around in an eternal dance.
Lukas’s hooded coat was warm enough that Lukas had no gripes with the wind. Lukas had a high tolerance for the cold and a low tolerance for the heat, so he usually looked forward to winter. Being warm-blooded, it was far easier to escape the cold than it was to escape the warmth…
“What’s up with you?” asked Zack, folding his arms. Lukas and Zack were waiting for Sieg to assess the mansion- where their target was apparently hiding- and thus were on stand-by.
Lukas grimaced. “Anika.”
Zack raised his eyebrows. “Haven’t you guys been dating since…uh…”
“A year this Winter” he muttered angrily, kicking a rock. “And I still haven’t gotten laid. This is bullshit, I tell you. I’m going to break up with her when I get back.”
“Isn’t that a little extreme?”
“She also says I’m not allowed to wank. You tell me. I mean, I like her and all, but she‘s been leading me on this whole fucking time. I‘m tired of being played.”
Zack sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Lukas did things in extremes- whether it was the love of a woman, the hatred of a rival, or the obsession with books he had.
It was that moment when Sieg returned, his expression grim. Taller than both of the other boys with broad shoulders and a trim physique, it was natural that people assumed he was the leader. However, more often than not Lukas took charge- Sieg preferred to sit on the side lines and help when needed. The reason he was in charge of scoping out places was because he was incredibly perceptive, far more than either of the other two. The oddest thing about Sieg was his hair- cut identically on either side, however, his left side was straight and sharp, and naturally so. On the other side, however, it curled dramatically and if grown past his ear spiraled into ringlets. He had struggled to try and get his hair to look the same on either side for most of his teenage life, but now, having nearly reached his 20th birthday, he just went with the flow.
“So? What’s the status?” asked Lukas, shoving his hands into the pockets of his navy blue duffle jacket.
Sieg sighed and rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. “The place looks like it’s been abandoned for at least a century. However, I can’t shake this damned feeling that there is something terrible in there. Horrifying, evil…inhuman.”
“Inhuman?” commented Lukas, raising an eyebrow. “What…like a bat or something?”
Sieg sighed again. “Actually…well, it’s stupid, but I feel like it’s…nah.”
“What?” said Zack. “Even if you’re wrong it can’t help to know what you’re thinking.”
Sieg fiddled with one of his right-hand side curls for a moment, something he tended to do while nervous or worried. “My head tells me it’s impossible, but my gut tells me vampire.”
Zack’s eyebrows disappeared into his side-parted hair while Lukas simply looked confused.
“Really? You sure you haven’t just…been reading too much horror literature lately?” Zack asked.
“What the heck is a vampire?” asked Lukas coldly, his eyes narrowing as he realized that the other two knew while he didn’t.
“You don’t know?” asked Zack, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “They’re a fictitious bloodthirsty monster that appears human but is really undead- or so the legend goes. Oddly enough, there are variations of the legend depending on the country, but every culture has their own variations.”
“That’s kind of suspect” murmured Lukas. “I mean, it depends how old these legends are. It wasn’t until the turn of the millennium that cultures really began to interact rather than just overthrow each other.”
Sieg looked confused for a moment, looking at Lukas. “What do you mean by that?”
Lukas folded his arms and closed his eyes as he thought about it. “I mean, don’t you think it’s strange that multiple cultures have similar ideas that almost all outline the same creature? If you ask me there had to be some truth in it, even if people simply painted them as ‘undead’…”
Lukas fiddled with the handle of his sheathed katana, which hung by his side. “Going by that pretense and the fact I trust Sieg’s intuition like no other, I’m going to prepare to fight this… ‘vanpier’?”
“Vampire” corrected Sieg in a mentor-like fashion. “I can’t believe you’ve never heard of them before. I thought you’d be all over Stoker’s book.”
“Stoker?” asked Lukas curiously. “Does he write vampire fiction?”
Sieg nodded, and curiously he reached into an interior pocket of his dark brown trench coat and pulled out a leather-bound copy of Dracula, handing it to Lukas. He took it and read the title, a strange expression passing over his face which quickly turned cold.
“Dracula, hm?” he murmured, assessing the book. “Is that based on Vlad the Impaler?”
“Who?” asked Sieg, confused.
Lukas grimaced. “15th century nobleman original known as Count Dracul. Driven mad by imprisoners, he escaped, only to return as Vlad the Impaler with a militia to wreck bloody, insane vengeance. He was known for his scare tactics, such as impaling the heads of his victims upon stakes for all to see. Quite an intriguing and fascinating figure.”
Sieg smiled ruefully. “Your interests both confuse and surprise me, Lukas. Knows nothing about vampires but happens to know who an obscure Count is.”
Lukas rolled his eyes and handed the book back. “I will read it some other time.”
Sieg pocketed the book and looked toward the mansion that loomed ahead of them. “I guess we should get going?”
Lukas nodded, and silently headed toward the imposing building, the other two following behind him, their shoes crunching against the gravel path leading to the entrance. Lukas’s blue eyes remained focused upon it, now intently set on his goal- and he would go to any length to complete it.
Upon reaching the mansion steps, however, Sieg stopped them.
“Lukas. I need to explain this to you. A vampire appears human a majority of the time- but in truth they are bloodthirsty, vicious monsters who only exist to maim, injure and kill. They are soulless, cruel, depraved creatures and they are strong, fast, stealthy and above all can detect a human target over a mile away. If- and I emphasis if- our target tonight is, indeed, a vampire, you need to keep everything I just told you in mind. The cross is a deterrent, and so is holy water.”
Lukas nodded silently. “I trust you.”
And without further ado, he turned to the front door and turned the lion’s head knob, swinging it open gently and walking inside.
Inside, it was dark and musty. Faint light from the moon (currently full) shafted through the frosted glass windows, which divided and distorted it, creating horrifying shadows that streamed across the white washed walls. Old, disheveled furniture such as bookcases and small tables sat in the corner of the foyer, caked in a layer of thick dust and draped in cobwebs. In the centre of the room was a large staircase leading to the second floor landing, once-rich velvet carpet descending down the stairs, now full of small holes and also covered in dust. The railing was a beautiful winding gold with a rose inlay that would have glowed when it was in its prime- now it sat just as unappreciated and lonely as the rest of the mansion, simply adding to the mansion’s off putting and foreboding vibe.
“Let’s split up” murmured Lukas. “We’ll find him faster. Zack, you take the second floor for now. Sieg, you go left. I’ll go right. We’ll loop around and meet back here before going to the second floor to meet up with Zack- if we don’t encounter him before that.”
The other two nodded, and branched off. Lukas quickly headed down the corridor on his right, hand gripped tightly on the handle of his katana. The corridor was quite plain, displaying various portraits, while the frosted glass on the windows was framed by old purple curtains. Several of the corridor’s portraits were covered by drapes, and though curiosity nagged at him he avoided peaking behind them.
He reached the end of the corridor, a wall with a mahogany door bearing a gold knob. He twisted it slowly and pushed it open, drawing his flintlock pistol to try and stop his hand from shaking. Although cartridge pistols were the weapon of the day, Lukas trusted a flintlock far more- it felt much more comfortable in his hand and he found the newer advancements difficult to wield effectively. This fondness of archaic, old, or obsolete items was embodied in most of Lukas’s possessions- most books he read were from many centuries prior and his favourite toys as a child were simple old wood spin-tops and the like.
Lukas slowly walked into the room, discovering a well-furnished (albeit, like the rest of the house, neglected) parlour. A suit of armour sat in one of the corners, and a large portrait hung above a fireplace. Two racks of weapons sat on an opposite wall, and a table surrounded by four chairs at in the upper end of the room. The lower end had a long table- around 7ft- pressed up against the wall, and Lukas briefly remembered that the parlour was also used for the preparation of the dead.
He felt a cold chill pass up his spine and he spun around, firing the flintlock pistol. Although it missed its target, it brought that very same target out of hiding. It launched itself at him, and Lukas quickly dodged away in the direction of the fireplace, the attacker almost knocking him over and sending the flintlock pistol spinning along the brick of the hearth. Lukas drew his katana as quickly as possible to defend himself as the assailant turned to face him, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He couldn’t make out the attacker, but he could see its eyes- glowing red coals that blazed like a fire on a cold winter’s night.
It jumped at him again, and this time he wasn’t able to move out of the way. Rather, Lukas raised his katana, and as the attacker jumped, it landed squarely on the blade, blood gushing as it ripped through cloth and flesh from the force with what the attacker had jumped with and sent both it and Lukas plunging to the floor. He heard the fire tools clatter to the ground and a sharp stinging pain in his neck- he assumed it was the poker. Knowing his luck, he wasn’t surprised that it’d hit him on its way down.
Somehow, the blade going straight through it hadn’t stopped the killer. Shaking, it raised itself off of Lukas, sliding along the blade. Lukas tried to keep his face stoic, but the moment he made eye-contact with him he felt his body turn into fearful jelly. The eyes bored into his mind, almost blindingly bright and watching his every movement. A horrendous, violent grin painted its face- monstrous, inhuman, the type of look that sent people away screaming.
Lukas hadn’t realized he was staring with his mouth agape until it suddenly violent coughed up blood into his face. The shock of suddenly having red liquid spat into his eyes and mouth broke him out of the fear trance and he violent threw the assailant off him, drawing the sword out of the hole in its chest cavity. He could taste its blood in his mouth, and felt sick to the stomach. But now wasn’t the time to get wishy-washy about hygiene- this thing needed to die, and it needed to die now.
He stabbed the katana into the creature’s chest again, aiming for its heart. It spat up more blood, but grinned at him maniacally as though it were mocking him.
A second cold chill ran up his spine and suddenly he knew exactly what he needed to do. He looked up above the fireplace and to his relief a Christian cross hung above it. Wrenching it down, he jammed the end of it into the small cavity in the creature’s chest and watched as the flesh seared violently on contact. It let out a breathless scream of pain that sounded like the tortured cry of a bat of some sort, and its screaming only got louder as he forced it in, as deep as he could, eventually having to pound in using the bottom of his foot.
“Asshole” he muttered angrily as the creature finally stopped writhing underneath him. It was at that moment that Sieg and Zack finally found the source of the fighting, and burst into the room.
“What the fuck!” shouted Zack, pointing at Lukas. He felt confused for a moment, before suddenly realizing that the stupid thing at thrown blood up on him.
“He threw up in my face” said Lukas in an irritated voice, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping the blood off his him. Sieg rubbed his eyes, and looked at the body on the floor, feeling his stomach flip at the sight of the cross sticking out of its chest.
“Please tell me you did that for show” he muttered, almost fearfully. Lukas shook his head.
“It didn’t die even after I stabbed through the chest twice, and its eyes were like hot coals- inhuman. So I decided sticking that in probably was going to be my best bet, given what you said earlier.”
“So…it WAS a vampire?” said Zack incredulously. “That’s…that’s insane.”
Lukas nodded as a wave of dizziness passed over him and he stumbled. Sieg’s face immediately became concerned.
“You ok?” he asked. Lukas nodded.
“Yeah…think I got myself on the fire poker and I must’ve hit my head pretty hard when he knocked me over. I’ll alright- just need some patching up.”
Sieg and Zack nodded, and the three left the parlour, as the body of the vampire disintegrated into dust behind them.
*
The car picked them up from the town south of the mansion and drove them back to their own, a large stone manor where a lady named Maeren Shieldheart had raised the three boys as not only brothers and friends, but fearless fighters who would fight both for their home and family without a second thought. People came and people went in that house, borders, warriors, scholars, all types- but Lukas, Zack and Sieg remained.
Lukas leaned against the frame of the door and looked outside. Rolling clouds had billowed in from the wind, and rain was beginning to patter against the glass window.
Lukas exhaled and rubbed his neck absent-mindedly. It was mildly stinging, but not in an aggravating way.
Sieg, who was sitting next to him, looked at him in concern. “You alright?” he asked. Lukas smiled at him reassuringly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”
Sieg nodded and forced a smile, but deep down worries seethed. A vampire…they had encountered a real vampire.
The car pulled up in the driveway and they shuffled out, heading up stone steps. Waiting outside was Nimue, who had always acted like an older sister to the boys, being Maeren’s only blood child. She was the one who treated their wounds every time Maeren sent them out to do little commissioned jobs- it was basically their only source of income. Thankfully, it always paid well, since the three had only ever failed one mission- a mission they liked to pretend had never existed.
Nimue rushed over to Lukas. “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice full of worry. Lukas rubbed his eye with his palm and nodded, sighing irritably. Although he appreciated his friend’s sentiments regarding his well-being, doting over him wasn’t necessary.

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I will be continuing this sometime.