By One Drop of Blood

Part 8

I got bitten by the vampire. He sucked off my blood sustaining his life and take mine. I woke up just moment ago and found myself inside a cage down in the basement. The cage prevents me to stand up right. It is big enough for me to sit in it but turning around is difficult. The sudden blood loss has taken away nearly all my strength. My skin has become pale and movement is slow. At least he has left me alive. Before I passed out he talked about my blood being valuable. He is planning on feeding on me again. Metal bars are impossible for a normal human to break. Lucky me I am no ordinary human. The power of spirits allows me to overcome obstacles. The power of the spirits does not come from the bodies strength but from the individuals will alone. Sure body strength is needed to channel the spirits into an attack but all destructive force comes from the spirits. One way is to bend the metal bars slowly by increasing the power. The other way is to just burst them open by creating one strong attack. Regarding my situation both options will be much more than difficult. Punching open the bars feels impossible at the time. Yet bending it could work. So I rearrange my legs to the front and bump them against the metal bars to increase the force over time. The strength is really missing from my whole body. Even though the legs being stronger than the arms I struggle with keeping the focus. The shortage of blood makes itself even more noticeable. Time after time I am able to bend the metal inch for inch. I only need to move it some distance so I can crawl out. When I am finally able to leave the cage I jump to my feet eager to get out of this prison. I lost enough blood to hinder me in standing up right. Of course all my weapons have been taken. I need to get them back first otherwise I will stand no chance. Taking a better look of the dim basement I can see the usage made to of this basement. Down here lays whatever displeases the vampire. Mirrors, some silver spoons, old paintings and many many more things stored inside dusty crates. I am still inside a single room with only one door leading out of it. In hear nothing is of further interest. I need to get back to the mansion! For once the door is not locked and I can enter the next room. Stacked to the ceiling with old crates the next room resembles a mace covered in dust and spider webs. My weapons are nowhere to be found maybe some of these crates store weapons inside of them. Looking into several of them I am not finding anything strong enough to fight a supernatural creature. Stupid idea to begin with. Stumbling from pile to pile I come across a single large crate laying on the open floor. A large crate bound by chains. Something valuable is in there. Same as the metal cage I will have to jam open chains by brute force. This time the process is much quicker. With the chains burst open nothing stands in my way. I open the crate and inside it rests a long object bound with old cloth. Dragging the clothes away I can already guess what is inside the crate. Its a sword. Dragging away the whole cloth I get a full view over it. It is a sword of old reminisced of what the people some two hundred years ago where using. It is nor extraordinary weapons but also no cheap one. The blade is masterfully crafted. The grip bound by fine leather and the angled cross-guard decorated with some smaller details. The knob at the end of it is its most destructive feature. The knob is graced with a sigil of unknown origin. It depicts a burning animal skull. Distracted by the beautiful weapon I have not noticed the figure laying next to me all this time. Before the sword sleeps the exact monster dog that attacked us. Most likely still hurt by the bullets we put into its skin it rests and heals. I could sneak around it to grab the sword or attack it with some makeshift weapon I still would have to get somewhere. My best chance is to sneak around, grab the sword and slay the monster. The beast has not heard me up to now so it will likely not hear me. I reach my hand for the sword now nervous because of the fear the dog could wake up every second. The danger is only in my head. The last time I have seen the dog it was frightened to the bone and badly hurt. Closing my hand around the handle the blade rises out of the crate it rested in. The weapon feels strong. Heavier than my sabre. Capable of beheading the dog monster in one swing. Hovering over the dog I ready the blade to take the monsters life. The beast shares a fate with the slaves and the guards in being forced to the will of the vampire. The undead man uses the dog as a feral line of defence. Definitely also for hunting down slaves. The dog is no normal animal to begin with and for that already doomed to be hunted down as we and other people hunt these critters. The animal is in a deep sleep and I will not feel the blade. Jamming the sword downwards it pierces through its skull the enslaved live of the monster finds its end. The body of the dog is not allowed to rest. Like it appeared and disappeared before the body turns into black dust that disintegrates until nothing of the dog monster is left. The creature must be influenced by the vampire as well. It is now dead and I can search for an exit from this basement.