Slave Planet: WAR OF THE BLOOD FIENDS!

The room was dank and cavernous with few furnishings. Two large, throne like chairs carved from solid marble sat at the edge of the back wall. Slow burning torches gave dim light to the eerie chamber. There was no heat save that of the torches. In fact, nothing about the huge hall suggested warmth in any manner. A large wooden door opened from the wall opposite the thrones. Iron hinges groaned under the heavy weight of this door as it opened and a completely unholy procession entered slowly and ominously. Leading the way were two great gray wolves, their red eyes glared into the dimness, wary and alert. Still, physically they moved with confidence and assurance, yea even arrogance. Behind them followed the beastly Sarensin, his dull red fur glowed under the torchlight. Behind him was a human, or what had once been a human. The large man walked with a shuffling motion, his eyes were open but looked only straight ahead with a blank, uncomprehending stare. His arms were motionless at his side and the thing's clothing lay in shreds and tatters. This unclean creature was covered in mud and filth as if it had slept in a rain soaked field. It's skin held a ghastly, grayish pale pallor, not unlike that of a corpse. At no time did the thing make any acknowledgement of its surroundings.

Next came two more of the beast men, these were different from Sarensin, their fur was a dark iron gray and their gait was not as erect. Long swords dangled from simple leather belts at their waist. Their beastly eyes glowed red and full of hate, far more animal than human they were. Between them they led, or more correctly, dragged a terror stricken human boy. His eyes darted about with a deep dread and sweat poured from his brow in a torrent. Finally, and perhaps oddest of all, came an ancient black woman. She looked at least 100 years old, and toothless with a few strands of white hair hanging like cobwebs from a horribly twisted and wrinkled scalp. In one hand she carried a wooden walking stick with the head of a cobra carved on the handle. Strapped across her shoulder was a rather large bag, weighed down with something. In her left hand she carried a small silver bell that tinkled from time to time. The wretched, filthy figure appeared to mumble constantly under her breath and occasionally a dry cackle left her ancient throat. Beady black eyes, red rimmed and bright with evil, burned like hot coal embers.

In the center of the room was a large flat stone slab also carved from marble. It was supported by granite blocks of great weight. The entire object stood about three and one half feet from the floor. The procession paused there except for the two great wolves who silently tred towards the heavy stone daises. There they paused and within seconds a heavy mist entered the room and obscured the four legged animals. After about three or four minutes the mist cleared away and two figures sat upon the twin thrones. One was large and dark, Vlad was his name. Although his appearance was youthful, his manner suggested someone ancient and much traveled. Beside him sat his son, Ivan. This one looked like a teenage boy but in reality he too was ancient. A whisper of dark mustache lined his cruel upper lip. Long black hair flowed down past his shoulders and his face held an expression of nothing less than pure evil. Vlad turned to his son. "You look well, my son. Bored malcontent that you are. I'm well pleased you could join us."

Ivan idly fingered a lock of raven hair. "Yes, yes father, could we please get on with it. I have little wish to remain long in the company of such foul smelling beasts."

Vlad smiled, "ah but one shouldn't speak of our valued allies with such lack of respect. Truly we can serve each other well, and have."

"But the hag father, why in the name of the nameless did you drag her along. What a wretched piece of human carrion. My poor nose is devastated by such a foul pile of feces as her."

The hag was not offended by the vampire's words. In fact she looked pleased and emitted another loud cackle, quickly followed by a choking cough. "Ah but I have my uses as your father well knows young sir! Old Harrimlat shall always serve faithfully. That is, of course, if my loyalty is rewarded in turn."

Vlad obviously found the hag an object of delight. It was rare that he encountered one so throughly evil, even approaching himself if such a thing was possible. "Never fear, although your ugliness and stench is truly hard to bear for even my seasoned senses, your black spells are much in demand and will fetch rewards as only my powers can obtain. Now proceed with the ritual."

"Yes, of course master," Harrimlat replied with a twisted smile. "First we must feed the corpse that walks. Fresh human blood mixed with his blackened fluids is a requirement. And of course our other friends can feast as well. I sense they are famished." She turned and nodded at Sarensin who returned the token by baring his monstrous fangs as his red eyes glowed with bloodlust.

Harrimlat raised her hand high and shook the little bell with all her might. Her voice took on a sinister tone, "feast my dead subject!"

Then as if a mad seizure had fallen upon him, the walking corpse went for the screaming boy. The things teeth sank deep into the neck of the hapless human. The sickening sound of meat being torn from bone filled the room. Not to be outdone, Sarensin and his hairy underlings leapt to sink their fangs and claws into the succulent flesh. The boy's shrieks of dying agony, the growling of the hungry beasts, and the hacking laugh of the wretched woman created a symphony of pure evil and depravity. Vlad was pleased and even Ivan managed a weak smile at the utter orgy of bloodlust. "My, what a fine group of folk you have assembled tonight. Truly you have outdone yourself this time Father. Of course I would have preferred a female for our friend's main course." Then Ivan added dryly, "at least they make quick work of it, I would like to get this over with some time tonight."

Vlad turned to his son and shook his head. "The young are such fools, not that you're really young. Still, I daresay my dear son, the eternal child you shall be. After all, therein lies your charm, such as it is. Regardless, I fail to see what fear of time has to do with the undead."

The fiends continued to feast as Ivan turned dark and more somber than ever. His voice was pregnant with seriousness, surprising his father.

"I don't know why but lately I've had strange dreams and an odd sense of dread. It doesn't make sense because of course no one can question our strength, but still I will be glad to depart from this pathetic planet. True the blood is sweet here, perhaps it is like the saying...the worst often follows the best."

Vlad nodded. "Always one should be aware that some force might arise against us. It pleases me that my son has in at least some small fashion, concerned yourself about our well being. Perhaps there is some hope for you after all!" Laughing, the Dark Prince returned his black eyes to the scene of dreadsome cannibalism. "But be assured my son, if something is amiss we will know of it momentarily....and to think you questioned my bringing along old Harrimlat....really!"

The vampires watched as the sub-humans and the re-animated corpse battled over the few remaining shreds of flesh. Sarensin triumphantly seized the head after kicking one of his lower caste comrades in the groin. The hairy wolf?man? puked as he clutched his throbbing testicles. The other beastman and the walking corpse sated their bloodlust by lapping hungrily at the pool of blood on the floor. Sarensin cracked the skull open with his powerful hands before turning it up like a cup and sucking out the tasty brains. Blood and brains dripped from his mouth as he belched loudly. This continued for a few more minutes.

"Enough!" Announced Vlad. The he motioned to Harrimlat, "begin the ritual."

Harrimlat raised the bell again and its tinkling gave pause to the blood orgy. The zombie, with blood and mud mixed on its ragged tunic, got off the floor and walked to the raised marble slab. Harrimlat continued with the bell while mouthing some blasphemous words that could only be the spawn of the blackest magic. The thing that had once been a mad prostrated itself upon the marble, which in most ways resembled a sacrificial alter. Harrimlat continued to utter her cursed ramblings as Vlad motioned to Sarensin.

"Draw your sword, the honor falls to you."

Sarensin approaced the zombie even as the creature, with the bell ringing madly in its ears, spread its right arm out wide away from the body. Harrimlat took a small bowl out of her bag and nodded to Sarensin. The blade crashed down on the marble with a fearsome clank. Sparks flew as the severed right arm fell to the floor. Quickly, Harrimlat held the bowl underneath the bloody stump as the unholy mixture of zombie and fresh human blood spurted and gushed like a nightmarish fountain. When the bowl was nearly filled the hag turned away. Her eyes were transfixed on the dark liquid as if something spoke to her from the depths of hell itself. She held the object close to that deeply wrinkled face that twisted and scowled even as she mumbled endlessly to herself.

Vlad grew impatient, "come woman, what do you see? I scare recall you ever rambling on in that incomprehensible language of yours so long."

Suddenly Harrimlat emitted a horrid shriek and dropped the bowl, the foul blood spilled over the stone floor as she watched with trembling upheld hands.

Vlad stood instantly and shouted, "what in the name of the dark ones do you see woman?"

Harrimlat turned slowly, still trembling, her eyes burned like black fire. "I have seen my own death!" she shouted. Then she pointed at the others, including Ivan. "And I have seen the death or greater deaths of all in this room, yea even you Vlad, although that part is uncertain to a degree!"

"That is impossible you foolish witch, none have the power!"

Harrimlat made her clawed hand into a fist and shook it convulsively. "Nay, you are wrong great prince, two come, one is a strange man with blazing eyes and the other....the other brings the with him the power of the ultimate force. He has returned from the days much past, a man well known to my ancestors.....the ones of the ancient times!!!"

Vlad clenched his fist, "give me a name you fool.......NOW!"

Then Harrimlat seemed to calm herself, she stopped shaking and a smile formed on her shriveled lips. The smile smacked of appreciation, grudging appreciation of a power greater than any other in the universe. "Yea, Dracula, there is a name....and that name be Solemnity O'Kain!!"