I guess I'll put forward the first entry then, like last time. I decided to write a vampire story after recently reading the Ulrika the Vampire novel, and numerous Vampire works on this forum, which mostly I enjoyed. Also, this is my first WHF piece ever, so you have been warned. Now, without further ado, here we go:
~ Night of the Hunter ~
Middenheim, the Year 2502
‘It is a dark night’,
A Warhammer Fantasy Short Story
thought Asmeth, as the vampire made his way across the buildings of the city of the white wolf, or so the humans called it. He didn’t really care what they called it however, as long as he got what he wanted. As he leapt from one building to the next, he could feel himself closing in on his prey.
The Vampire advanced, taking great care whenever he saw watchmen in the streets below, or atop the buildings, for to alert one now would to condemn his mission to failure, and not just mean his downfall, but also increased tension in Middenheim, which could potentially mean that his fellow vampires, or at least those still in the city of the white wolf, would be discovered.
And that, Asmeth really didn’t want to happen. The dark figure was still unnoticed by the humans below, but as the undead man made his way closer to his prey, the amount of guards increased, forcing him to move slower, even though he was leaping across the rooftops of the city.
Because, if one of them decided to look up, that would mean he would be discovered, and would have to act very quickly before more guards appeared. Suddenly, Asmeth stopped, teetering on the edge of a building.
‘Well, that complicates things’; the Vampire grimaced, stepping back cautiously to avoid being sighted. Crouching down, Asmeth took a closer look at what he had encountered, and what was too stalking through the shadows below him. Beneath his dark, black cloak, the being that had once been human could easily pick out the figure amongst the few normal men and women still out at this late time, he noticed a pale, blonde haired figure hiding behind a cluster of small barrels, his eyes fixed on a small band of night-watchmen, armed with swords and torches. They were wearing the blue colour of their troops, and were laughing loudly. However, they didn’t worry Asmeth.
The other vampire worried him more, a one newly inducted into the bloodline, carless, violent and eager for blood. Asmeth didn’t know why Qu’meck, the elderly vampire who had taught both the young one and him the ways of the undead, had let this inexperienced hunter of his leash in the middle of a city full of humans. “So, Leros,” Asmeth whispered under his breath. “You wish to hunt the hunter.”
“That he does, Asmeth,” said a cold, elderly voice behind him. Asmeth spun around, and found himself face-to-face with a third creature of the night, his mentor Qu’meck stood there with a grim smile on his face. “And, you are also seeking this notorious Witch Hunter, are you not?”
“How did you know, my friend?” Asmeth whispered, as they retreated from the edge of the rooftops as the patrol passed by Leros, not taking any notice of him.
“Well, you have always had a fascination for high buildings, have you not?” Qu’meck responded. “Come now, Asmeth, let us see how good Leros really is.”
Down in the still-crowded streets of Middenheim, Leros Von Schierber watched the blue coated soldiers advance through the streets, bitterly wishing to lunge out here and now, and bring them all down in one swift stroke.
However, he resisted the urge, as the young Vampire knew that he could not take out the patrol all at once. A quick glance above him informed Leros that he was being tailed, and he already knew whom. It seemed Asmeth, and his master had taken to following him, but doubted they would come to his aid.
They were here to observe him, and to watch him. This was part of his training.
When the patrol had passed, Leros sprinted down the road, still being tailed by Qu’meck and Asmeth from the rooftops, keeping an eye on his every move as he prowled through small packs of people, one after the other.
And then, the creature of the night saw his prey, standing there, out in the open. The Witch Hunter, who had butchered several of his brethren in Nuln, including his brother, accusing him of being a vampire when it was actually Leros that had forsaken his humanity. Wincing at the memory, Leros brushed it aside, even as the screams of his twin echoed in his ears, praying for Sigmar’s mercy.
However, Sigmar’s mercy never came, and Leros’ brother had died. A bitter hatred grew in Leros that day, and ever since, he had been tracking his quarry. And now, the vampire smiled, licking his lips with growing anticipation.
All it took would be one blow, just one, and Damion Von Schierber’s death would be avenged. However, suddenly, there was a hand placed on the back of Leros’ shoulder.
“Not yet, young one,” Qu’meck’s voice was quiet, yet Leros could hear it plainly. Careful not to make any rash moves, Leros took a moment before he replied.
“How long have you been watching me, master?”
“Since the last patrol,” smiled Qu’meck. “You learn well. Now, as a reward, I will let you have your prey. You shouldn’t have left without consulting me, however. All it takes is just one slip up, just one.”
“I am truly sorry, master,” responded Leros, and then, “Why is Asmeth here?”
“To give you a challenge, Leros,” Qu’meck grinned. “And I suggest you hurry up, Asmeth is already taking his position.”
With a quick glance up to the small building next to the Witch Hunter’s place of residence, Leros swore as he noticed his rival rip out a windowpane, and hurl himself through. “You distracted me, Master,” he smiled, and took off, heading towards the Witch Hunter, who had got up from his resting place and was opening the door on his house.
Qu’meck sat back, and observed both of his trained vampires, dash into the house of the hunter. He smiled, and knowing that time would reveal the outcome, he turned and departed the scene, the smile not leaving his face.
Hope you enjoyed, Bane of Kings Out.