Gerard continues his adventures!

I know, I said daily. Shut up. Here's some good stuff. I'm busy as hell lately and that won't change soon, but I'll show my readers some love whenever I can.

Gerard awoke in a dark room, lit only by a single candle. He picked himself up off the cold stone floor slowly, his head pounding and his vision blurred. He shook his head, looked around and then shouted to nobody, “What the actual FUCK?!” Enraged, he examined the spot he was laying in and found burn marks on the ground. Upon closer examination, they smelled of blood. Sidney walked out of the shadows with a grin on his face. “The ritual, good sir. It’s complete.” Gerard hauled Sydney up into the air with a single hand to scream into his face. “What damn ritual?!” Sydney smiled aloofly at him. “Why, the ritual to awaken you, of course.” He wiggled free and plopped on the ground like a broken egg. After gathering himself and giving a quick grunt, he explained, “Your vampiric power, long dormant, will be needed if you are to save us.” “Save…?” Gerard calmed down and waited for the answer. “You see…”, Sydney coughed to clear his throat, “It all began a few hundred years ago. I was but an apprentice scientist in this dark laboratory.” Gerard held his amazement and listened intently.

“It’s all my fault, you see. Once, the master of this castle, Lord Victor, was a kind and noble ruler. He created this place as a haven for magical creatures. Unicorns frolicked, vampires chatted by the fires and griffins raced above. For a while, it was paradise.” Gerard shifted uneasily on his feet, sensing something was off. “Get to the point, old man.” Sydney sniffed. “Fine. I fell in love with a young werewolf named Katarina. We had a child. As it turns out, werewolves and vampires should never mate. The child was born without a soul, its body a horror show. We loved the child anyway and raised it carefully, but at the tender age of fourteen, little Lewis became possessed. The demon made it clear that it had no interest in simple coexistence.” Gerard nodded. “So, you had to kill your son.” Sydney nodded. “Indeed. It was a grueling experience and my undoing. You see, the demon migrated. As we magical creatures couldn’t exorcise it, we simply had to hope that it chose a better target. When it entered Lord Victor’s body, his ensuing rampage killed a great many of us and left the rest subjugated under a cruel demon lord.”

Gerard nodded slowly. “Uh huh…” He turned to walk away. “No way I’m taking on a demon for you miserable fucks. I'm out.” “But sir Gerard! Victor is your father!” Gerard stopped dead in his tracks. “You’re lying. I’m leaving.” “Then explain this!”, Sydney bellowed and threw a framed picture at Gerard’s head. He surprised himself by turning around to catch it before it hit him. It was of his mother, long gone from this world. “How the hell did you get this, you sick fuck?!” Gerard squared his fists and walked toward a stuttering Sydney. “Answer me!” A savage punch, full of power Gerard was only beginning to awaken to, sent Sydney flying across the room and into the wall. Gerard let out a startled yelp at his own strength.

Sydney pried himself from the wall with a series of pained groans. “You see, sir? I retrieved that from Master Victor’s quarters when he took to staying in the throne room. Gerard looked over the photo for a long moment, then turned to Sydney slowly, trying to decide what to say. “OK.”, he forced the words out after a long pause, “I’ll help you.” He walked to Sydney and handed the picture back gingerly.

Sydney gestured to a discolored brick. “Press it, Sir Gerard.” Gerard did as he was told. “How cliche… again.” he muttered as the wall adjacent to the brick slid to the left, revealing a small cache of armor and weapons. Leather armor with layers of thick leather and steel plates hung alongside a simple sword consisting of a red jeweled pommel, a round handle with no design, a straight crossguard and a blade that tapered evenly to a wicked point. A heavy-looking buckler shield was also present, with red decorations framing a golden coat of arms depicting a sword with a batwing shaped crossguard.

Below the antique armory lay a slightly more modern pair of gold-etched .45 pistols and a rather large cache of blessed ammo, looking to be a thousand rounds or more. Gerard donned the armor, reluctantly shouldered the shield and sword, then greedily snatched up the guns and promptly began fawning over them. “Oh, man, these babies look so freaking powerful. I’m gonna be blowing skulls open left and right!” Sydney put his palm to his face. “Fighting with honor has clearly died in this era.” To Sydney’s great dismay, Gerard chose a triangle of bricks across the room and opened fire to test his new toys. The bricks shattered into dust on impact, sending Gerard’s jaw floorward. “Sir Gerard…”, Sydney sighed and sat down hard in a nearby chair, “Please be more judicious with that ammunition. I can fetch more, but it will take time.” Gerard flipped the safety on both guns and placed them in his pockets. “I’ll save those for the real nasties.”, he said with a grin as he made his way to the ammo cache and placed a generous stash in his back pockets and buttoned them tight. Without further ado, he set off out of the chamber and toward the far reaches of the large and strange castle.

Elsewhere in the castle, Victor sat quietly in his throne. He did not move and his breathing was barely detectable, but inside, a great battle was raging. Inside his mind, Victor was a literal god. His ego ensured that. This did not make facing off with the fearsome demon who controlled him any easier. A pair of golden swords rang through the air at speeds the human eye could never hope to track. The friction alone would reduce normal swords to ash. The swords clanged harmlessly off a demon's claws, moving impossibly fast. The owner of the claws showed no sign of distress or fatigue. A large blue demon, perhaps thirty meters high, bore three pairs of lanky arms ending in long, wicked glowing hot claws. The claws left glowing afterimages as they faithfully blocked the swords’ relentless assault, never letting them slip through the defensive perimeter. Golden armor showed ragged gashes in places from the wearer slipping up and letting a claw through every now and then.

The demon yawned and closed its eyes. Victor saw this as his chance and, in one impossibly swift motion, spun away from the flailing claws and loosed billions of waves of various forms of powerful energy in the span of a few milliseconds, shattering the dreamscape he and the demon brawled in and leaving a visible crater in the blackness that was left.

The demon rose on sickly nightshade wings when the smoke cleared and, with a grin, unleashed his own magic. Bracing hard, Victor locked his swords in a defensive cross just in time to push back against an all-engulfing beam of red dark magic wide enough to swallow his massive frame up at least one hundred times over. The beam stopped cold at the touch of his blades. Victor would die where he stood, swords in hand, before he gave any ground. When the beam finally dissipated, the grinning demon was upon him for more visceral melee combat. The two locked again, blades and claws flailing faster than light. Neither had to say a word; their faces told all. The demon's sheepish grin revealed nigh-orgasmic pleasure. Victor’s determined scowl showed his barren soul and barely-stifled terror. A single bead of sweat made its way past his regal and tasteful circlet to drip from his chin.