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post #7 of (permalink) Old 03-04-12, 03:26 AM Thread Starter
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Default Zalzasatrean!


I wait until I am alone. They had the audacity to think that separating my head from my body then burning me in an open field would be enough to keep me down. Clearly it was not. It took a lot of time to gather myself some the ashes, but I did it. I believe it took years for me to pull myself together again. It was painful, but I am no stranger to pain. I have suffered more than most could understand.

The field is cold and windswept and the grasses are tan and brown, dead. The next field over is green and healthy and alive. I keep myself separated and buried in the dust, my cells small enough to hide from the blazing killing light of the sun. I am hungry, hungrier then I have ever been.

The pain I feel from my lack has been almost too much to bear. I can sense something nearby. It is a child in the field next to the one I am in. I can smell her flesh and blood carried upon the wind and it stirs my hunger to the point of agony.

It takes all of my strength to keep myself separated and buried in the dust. The sun will surely kill me if I come out from hiding now. The sun will set soon.

Last light drops over the ancient mountains in the far distance to the East. The dust begins to stir as I will myself to come together again. I can feel the wind fighting my will. The wind struggles to lift me and toss me away with the dust, but I am stronger. As my cells draw closer to my will they begin to come in contact with each other. I allow them to bond anew.

As the cells bond they grow and when they are large enough they become small spiders. There is one at first and then two and then three. In the end they become millions.

I watch the cell spiders grow in the darkness and will them to me. Upon shaky legs they come to my center and begin to reform my body. It takes hours because I am so weak, but at last I am whole again.

My first steps are clumsy and awkward, shaky and unsteady. I lack the strength to defend myself if trouble comes. I watch the darkness and take in the sense around me. In the distance a small house has been built, the lights are on but I do not need the lights to tell me someone lives there and it has not been abandoned. I can smell them upon the breeze.

It took longer than I had hoped for me to make my way to it. The sun will be up soon. I kill them as quickly as I can, but because of my weakness they suffer greatly. There is screaming and crying; they struggle against me and nearly overcome me, but in the end they are dead and I am fed.

The blood gives me strength again and my body grows from a cadaverous skeletal creature to the form of a young man once more. I stretch and breathe in the smell of carnage, of blood and of fear. It feels good to be myself again.


It is a hive world that I have come to. The sounds of industrial labor, traffic and humanity stirs something in me. I smile as the shadows envelope my body. I can feel them; the shadows are alive and I am glad for the darkness they bring.

Seven billion people upon the surface of Sandaca should be enough for me to feed upon for the moment. I need time to plan my course of action against the Inquisitor who nearly ended my existence. Sandaca will allow me the time to grow strong again and the ability to blend in and hide should trouble arise.

I have learned a good lesson by the things that I have gone through. It was good for me to suffer. I had become lazy and complacent and stupid. I believed that I had become immortal, that I was a god. It was good for me to become acquainted with humility and pain.

My lack of awareness will never be my weakness again.

Tonight I am a black man coming home from his labors at the iron mill. Taking on his form was easy after I had consumed is soul. His memories are fresh in my mind and I smile as the door opens before me. Sandra stands before me and smiles, glad to see me safely home, secure in her husband’s presence.

Life is hard enough in this world so I do not make her suffer long. The surprise and fear in her eyes was enough to make me giddy with delight. Her blood was intoxicating.

Some may think of me as a predator but that would be a mistake. I am a survivor. Ten years have passed since my renewal. I never take that time for granted. I must find that man who taught me this lesson and gave me back my joy of existence.


There was a time when domination meant everything to me. It does not anymore. World killer had such a sweet ring to it. That name strikes fear in even the most stout of hearts. World killer. Those very words are terrifying.

The hive is quiet now that everyone is dead. There are other hives for me to attend to upon the surface of Sandaca. Before I leave I take a last look at my handy work. I smile at the bodies that swing by silken webs from girders and platforms and scaffolds and posts and light poles. I grin broadly as I see millions of corpses secured to the walls and windows of buildings by the fabric of the webs I have laid.

The blood has been drained from each one and yet I still thirst for more. I know this will get the attention of the universe around me soon. It will attract the Inquisition and those accursed Grey Knights. I do not like them at all, nor does the thought of being near them again bring me excitement. But the task must be done.


The year is 451.M41. The world is Sandaca.

Reports have come to my attention of the atrocities committed upon that world. Seven hive cities dead. Nothing mechanical has been harmed, only the biological has suffered.

I have seen the picts and they are terrifying to me. Seven billion souls consumed, bodies shriveled like dehydrated berries. Each person was found buried under silken webs. No spiders have yet been found upon the planet.

I have only seen one other time in my career these same settings. The name of the world is unimportant, the place unimportant. The armies of the Emperor of mankind were, however, very important.

I do not wish to think about the consequences of my failure. The deaths of Sandaca are upon my hands and yours until the vampire is dealt with once more.

Therefore I request the presence of the Grey Knights.

Zalzasatrean is still alive.

May the Emperor guide you as does He all.

Inquisitor Rion Osenda.


“Twenty-one Grey Knights are able to join me in the fight. Seven billion people murdered in the course of a week by one soulless vampire and this is all the Grey Knights send to avenge them. This is shameful at least and uncareing at most.” Inquisitor Rion Osenda thinks to himself.

To voice such opinions could alter the cooperation of the Knights.

‘Thank you for coming. The trail is clear, but beware he is more powerful than before and he is not caught off guard again. He will end us all if we do not end him first.’ Osenda says.

‘Understood.’ Brother Captain Mandrose growls through the vox speaker in his helm. They turn as one and advance into the shadows of Balastral Primary. The hive is massive. It could take days to find our foe; weeks if he does not wish to be found.

“He is sure of himself. I can feel his psychic energy permeating the darkness. Zalzasatrean knows we are here. I know he is watching us even as we advance.” Osenda considers these thoughts as he moves into the shadows of the hive behind the Knights.


This is all they send? Twenty-one Knights and the Inquisitor; it is insulting to me. I am pleased though; at least I will get to share my thoughts with the man who taught me such truths.

I make them search for me for two days. I watch them closely as they stalk through the darkness of the hive. They are careful and the wards upon their armor burn brightly into my consciousness. They hurt my eyes and somewhat un-focus me.

Their prayers do not bother me as much as their faith does. I must kill their faith before I kill their flesh.

The Inquisitor is aware that I am near. His mind is sharp and his perception is a bladed weapon. He does have the power, but how much I do not know. I will play with him soon enough.

The third day of the hunt continues until sunset without event. The bodies that I have fed upon begin to stink in the humid air. Their flesh is like cold wax, bruised and tacky to the touch.

From the shadows I strike with my bladed thoughts. They react like lightning and raise their shields. The shout with one voice, ‘The Emperor protects!’

Their faith is strong but weaker now, just a little bit. There are now twenty Knights alive. One lays dead upon the floor of the cauldron; his neck a mess of ruined flesh, tendons and muscle.

It takes a moment for them to realize that I have left them. They mourn the loss of their Brother Captain silently as they seek to remove his gene-seed from his throat. I can sense the anger like a fire in the night when they see that it is gone.

I smile as I consume it; it is sweet to the taste.

Three days go by before I strike again. They react the same way; shields up and shouting scripture. But one more is dead while another bleeds from the neck. His wound is meant to weaken them. Their armor is weak under the chin so they are flawed. They are beginning to understand that they are helpless. I can get past their wards and their faith. I can do as I wish as I will.

I can sense the bitterness of their doubt seeping in. I strike when they turn their backs. I strike when they take a step. From the all encompassing darkness I ruin their will and abuse their hope. I laugh at them from the shadows.

I can see the Inquisitor searching the shadows, but he cannot see me. His will is strong, but I am much much stronger.

By the end of the week they are all dead; all except for one. The Inquisitor runs through the darkness. He falls over a body and saves himself by extending his arms. I am done playing with him, done making him suffer.

‘Stop and face your doom, Inquisitor or do you want me to find your home world and kill it too.’

He turns and sees me for the first time. I am tall, my skin is sunless white and my hair is bone white and long. I can see the fear in his eyes, but he does not try to fight me or run anymore.

‘Why have you done this?’ he asks through gritted teeth.

‘Because I could. Because if you had killed me properly, I would not have been able to. Because you failed in your duty. You burned me until I was only ash. I hid in the dust away from the sun. In the night I became myself again.’ I answered.

The man dropped to his knees. I could see the torment in his features. In the blink of an eye I had him by the throat and pressed my teeth into his neck. I drank his sweet blood, but stopped before he was dead.

As he lay there in the darkness I whispered in his ear. ‘You will live for an eternity. Only the sun will kill you. You will never be able to forget your failure. With each soul you consume you will think of me. I am Zalzasatrean. I am no longer the last vampire.’

A good reputation take a long time to build, but only a moment to destroy. Wow, that's deep! Check out the H.O.E.S. short story competition.
Other stories from Adrian.
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Last edited by Dave T Hobbit; 03-04-12 at 11:42 AM.
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