Mod Superhero

Chapter 7.51 - Ichabod 1

The elder vampire, Ichabod, sat hunched over his desk at Gnosis, staring at a print on the other wall. To most, it was just a swirl of blood, but to Ichabod, it was a mix of abstract self-portrait, autobiography, and family history. Each stroke marked a significant event in his life, the life of his maker, and the lives of a few prominent sires.

Most humans wrongly assume that older vampires need a larger canvas. How else could they memorialize such a long life? How could Ichabod or any of the elders fit thousands of years of existence onto a single canvas? But those are the musings of a short-lived race. One only need ask human grandparents how precious their youth was and how the memories of their later years have waned. The longer the life, the less significance a year has. The longer the life, the fewer blood strokes are added to the canvas.

No matter the vampire, all blood portraits are made on the same size canvas—roughly two feet square.

Ichabod was the oldest living creature in Belport. One of the oldest in the Allied States, and one of the oldest in the world. He was not a creature that measured life in regrets. Yet he stared at the swirling culmination of his life with equally deep and turbulent emotion, like it were a whirlpool slowly dragging him in.

In the last year, Ichabod had dredged the original painting out of archival storage, and for the first time in centuries he'd added to it. A single stroke of his own blood to represent Enola. When it dried, he ordered a new print made, and then delicately tucked the original away again.

Ichabod stared at the swirl that represented Enola—little more than a single ridge of a fingerprint—and yet she'd consumed his thoughts as of late.

How many times had Enola come into his office and seen that portrait? Had she thought herself lacking? How many years had passed of her waiting to be added to it? Tens—hundreds? Out of pride, Ichabod would never ask, and for much the same reason, he suspected she would never confide in him.

He should've added her centuries ago.

It spoke to a larger schism within Ichabod. A root that was growing in the back of his mind. He'd had his eyes set on the horizon for so long that he'd lost sight of what was truly important. He'd become what he so despised in the other elders.

No more. He resolved to set his sights on the more immediate future.

~

Earlier that day, news broke of Vault Alpha's destruction at the hands of the Resistance. Ichabod thought back to it, turning over the short conversation and events.

Enola was with him at the time. The two of them had been walking idly through the lower levels of the compound and found their way to Sublevel 10. They passed the various wings without stopping—

Sanguis Innovation—with its blood substitutes and supplements. They were perhaps the most unappreciated wing of Gnosis. Most vampires didn't understand that without artificial blood, they would not have expanded so far and still maintained their secrecy. And humans didn't understand that without artificial blood, they would've been wiped out before their civilization ever began.

Eventide Engineering—the heart of Gnosis bioweapon research. They were the tip of the spear, both metaphorically for vampire-kind and physically for armies around the world. They were one of the oldest wings of Gnosis. Even before genetic technology, they were using a mix of selective breeding and controlled starvation to propel the species.

Chthonic Genetics—created with the advent of gene mapping. The vampire virus was the most complex virus on the planet, and gene mapping had allowed vampirekind to begin tapping their true potential. Their wing worked closely with all other sections of Gnosis, and most breakthroughs began there.