His hand slid through the air like a serpent striking at its prey. There was no flesh nor muscle to stop the assault. Instead, his fist crashed against a brittle, hollow, dry rib cage, and the bone there exploded like a mishandled container of talcum powder. The ancient thing he was facing off against was flung back, its legs planted firm, spine nearly creating a right angle, before it snapped back into place. One couldn't really describe a skeletal being as menacing. There were no notable facial features to discern or assign emotional significance. Heathen very nearly missed the snap of the blade as it whirled through the air towards him. A fake step in the direction of the rusty, dull thing was enough to confuse his opponent. Enough for him to spin, deliver a literally crushing blow to the zombie's temple. Seconds later, it was little more than dust and a pile of bone fragments.
The Catacombs were interesting. Heathen had seen something like them at one point when he was watching Indiana Jones. He kept expecting to find something deeper. Some unnoticed chamber that would take him deeper into the heart of the city's underbelly. But all of that was just fanciful thought, wasn't it? Vampires were real. Maybe anything was possible. He thought that to himself sometimes. If vampires existed, then what else was out there? What was the story, behind the story, behind the story? He didn't fancy himself an explorer. Or a scientist. He knew his limitations, but that didn't change the curiosity which burned naturally in his chest. Maybe that was the human condition; what had pushed men to the new world, to explore the deep sea, and space.
He wanted to know, but there were more immediate concerns to worry about. Like the gang. And himself. He had to get stronger every day because it seemed like every day he discovered something newer and more powerful. Like when he'd been human, he'd been a rodent in a maze without realizing it. Now he was a vampire. A scientist. And he could see, from up above, that there were all sorts of dangers in the maze. Pitfalls, spikes, crushing walls. Everything got worse the further out one looked. Danger was around every single corner.
He was doing okay against the ancient zombies, but what about the next thing and the next thing? There was always something bigger and badder. The only way to survive in the maze, the rat race, was to be tougher. Well he was certainly operating at a learning curve, wasn't he? The worst part was that he was conflicted. He had these desires. How did he prioritize them? He had these needs. How did he sate them? He had these questions, but they were without answer.
Shuffling some antique scraps of metal into his bag, he began down a dark corridor.
The Catacombs were interesting. Heathen had seen something like them at one point when he was watching Indiana Jones. He kept expecting to find something deeper. Some unnoticed chamber that would take him deeper into the heart of the city's underbelly. But all of that was just fanciful thought, wasn't it? Vampires were real. Maybe anything was possible. He thought that to himself sometimes. If vampires existed, then what else was out there? What was the story, behind the story, behind the story? He didn't fancy himself an explorer. Or a scientist. He knew his limitations, but that didn't change the curiosity which burned naturally in his chest. Maybe that was the human condition; what had pushed men to the new world, to explore the deep sea, and space.
He wanted to know, but there were more immediate concerns to worry about. Like the gang. And himself. He had to get stronger every day because it seemed like every day he discovered something newer and more powerful. Like when he'd been human, he'd been a rodent in a maze without realizing it. Now he was a vampire. A scientist. And he could see, from up above, that there were all sorts of dangers in the maze. Pitfalls, spikes, crushing walls. Everything got worse the further out one looked. Danger was around every single corner.
He was doing okay against the ancient zombies, but what about the next thing and the next thing? There was always something bigger and badder. The only way to survive in the maze, the rat race, was to be tougher. Well he was certainly operating at a learning curve, wasn't he? The worst part was that he was conflicted. He had these desires. How did he prioritize them? He had these needs. How did he sate them? He had these questions, but they were without answer.
Shuffling some antique scraps of metal into his bag, he began down a dark corridor.
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