I wandered through the cabin, taking in every detail, every object scattered throughout the space. It was small but functional: a single large bedroom, a modest kitchen, and a cozy living room. Everything about it screamed solitude, a place built for someone who preferred isolation. Someone like Ronald, a single and sadistic bastard.
How did I know he was a bachelor? That part was easy.
For one, the place lacked any real touch of warmth. No personal photos, no decorations that suggested a woman's influence. The furniture was minimalistic.. practical, but devoid of charm. His bed wasn't even properly made, just lazily thrown together like someone who slept out of habit rather than comfort.
I know that it might not be his actual everyday residence, but still, it wouldn't kill him to be less depressing.
And then there was the fridge.
I pulled it open, half-expecting to find something normal.. milk, eggs, maybe even leftovers. Instead, there were rows of neatly lined bottles filled with alcohol. And that blood-wine mixture thingy. No actual food in sight.
I wrinkled my nose. "Why'd I even bother? I'm stuck with a barbaric hooligan who probably hasn't eaten anything cooked in ages,"
"I heard that," Ronald's voice called from outside.
I rolled my eyes, shutting the fridge. Of course, he did. Super hearing and all. I should probably start watching what I say under my breath.
I leaned against the counter, letting out a slow sigh. As much as I hated to admit it, this place was going to be my temporary home for the night. And that meant I needed to find a way to tolerate Ronald's presence without wanting to strangle him every five minutes.
Easier said than done.
Just as I was contemplating whether to raid his cabinets for something actually edible, the door swung open.
Ronald stepped inside, his expression unreadable. His hair was slightly tousled as if he'd been running... or chasing something.
"Alright," he said, closing the door behind him. "We may have a problem."
I straightened. "Fantastic. Because spending the night with you wasn't enough,"
He ignored my sarcasm, stepping closer. "There was something out there. Watching us,"
My stomach twisted. "Something? As in... more vampires? Dark elves?"
He shook his head. "No. Something else."
A chill crept up my spine. As much as I hated to admit it, I was beginning to realize something very important. This night was far from over.
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. "Something else?" I echoed. "Care to be a little less cryptic?"
He let out a slow breath, his crimson aura flickering faintly around him. "It moved fast... too fast. But it wasn't a vampire, and it definitely wasn't a dark elf." His eyes darkened. "It felt... wrong."
A slow unease crept into my bones. "What do you mean, wrong?"
Ronald's gaze locked onto mine, his usual arrogance replaced by something more serious. "Like something that doesn't belong in this world anymore."
A chill crawled up my spine. Before I could question him further...
EEEEEKK!
A long, wretched wail echoed through the night. It wasn't human. It wasn't even alive.
My breath hitched. "What the hell was that?"
"Fuck!" Ronald was already on the move, his aura flaring as he summoned his weapon. Blood-red energy twisted in his hand, hardening into the familiar shape of a blade. His grip tightened around the hilt. "It's a wight."
I blinked. "A what?"
"A corpse that refuses to stay dead." His voice was low, unreadable. "Unlike strigois, they don't drink blood, they eat flesh.. and they can smell the quality of it." He turned to me, his gaze unreadable.
Realization struck me like lightning. "You mean it's after me?"
He nodded. "Wights hate the taste of vampire flesh. They won't go near us unless they have no other option,"
I shuddered. "Great. So I'm premium steak, and you're rotten leftovers."
His lips twitched. "Nice to know you're finally catching on."
Another wail ripped through the night, closer this time. The air in the cabin turned frigid, my breath fogging instantly. But something wasn't adding up.
"Wait," I said, my mind racing. "The barrier. How did it get in?"
Ronald stiffened. His gaze flicked toward the door, then the windows, as if seeing them for the first time.
"The only explanation is... It was already inside when I activated it,"
My stomach dropped.
"Then why didn't you sense it?" I demanded.
Ronald exhaled sharply. "Because wights can enter shadows. They don't leave a presence unless they want to be found."
Another bang shook the cabin. Dust rained from the ceiling as something slammed against the door with unnatural force.
Ronald's blade pulsed with energy, his crimson aura flaring brighter. "Well, looks like it's done hiding."
I took a step back. "Tell me you have a plan."
He flashed a grin, sharp and wicked. "Yeah. Kill it before it eats you."
Before I could respond, the door shattered. And the wight stepped through.
It was the most ugliest thing I had ever seen, and it's gaze was fixed solely on me. Crap! Ronald was right, it was after me.
But before it could even think of approaching me, Ronald engaged it. And a fight broke out.
Ronald's POV
The door exploded inward, shards of wood flying like shrapnel. I raised my arm on instinct, my blood-forged blade humming with power.
The wight stood in the doorway, hunched and unnatural, its frame elongated as if it had once been human but had rotted into something else. Its flesh was gray, leathery, stretched too tight over jagged bones. Hollow eye sockets burned with an eerie, corpse-purple glow, and its jaw.. unhinged far too wide, dripped with black ichor.
I exhaled. "Damn, this one's fresh,"
Fresh wights were fast.
Without hesitation, I lunged. My blade sang through the air, slashing toward its torso... but it was too late.
The wight vanished into the shadows.
"Shit!" I cursed
I twisted mid-strike, bracing just as it reappeared from the cabin's rafters, lunging at me from above. Its claws whistled through the air, inches from my face. I barely managed to block, my sword catching the blow in a shower of crimson sparks.
The force sent me skidding backward.
It was testing me.
I smirked. "You're fast." I twirled my blade, letting my aura flare, crimson tendrils licking at the air like fire. "Let's see how long that lasts,"
The wight shrieked, its inhuman voice rattling the walls, and lunged again.
I moved.
With a burst of speed, I sidestepped and slashed downward, aiming for its legs. If I could cripple it, I'd have the upper hand.
But it twisted mid-air, its body snapping unnaturally, dodging my strike. It landed on all fours, claws scraping against the wooden floor, its eyeless gaze locked onto me.
Then... It ran. But not toward me. Toward Triss.
She gasped as the wight lunged, closing the distance in an instant.
"Triss, move!"
She dove sideways, barely dodging its swipe. A splintering crack rang out as its claws gouged deep into the cabin wall where her head had been.
Damn it. I have to end this now.
I surged forward, summoning more energy into my blade. The air crackled as crimson light engulfed the weapon, shifting its shape... extending into a wicked, curved edge.
The wight turned, sensing the energy spike, and let out a screech. It blurred, sinking back into the shadows again.
"Not this time," I closed my eyes and focused
The room was dark, but I didn't need my eyes.
I felt the way the air moved, the shift of energy, the vibration of something unnatural slithering just beneath the surface. There, it was below me.
Following my instincts, I pivoted and slashed...
The wight reappeared, lunging at my blind spot. But my blade was already in motion.
A perfect, lethal arc.
My sword sliced clean through its torso.
For a second, the wight froze, its body twitching. Then.. black ichor sprayed across the floor as it let out a soul-wrenching scream.
Its form convulsed, jerking violently before collapsing into a heap of withered, rotting flesh. The glow in its hollow sockets flickered... then died.
Silence.
I exhaled, rolling my shoulders. "Well. That was fun."
Triss, still pressed against the far wall, stared at the corpse. Then at me.
Then back at the corpse.
"You're smiling?" she asked, disbelief in her voice.
I grinned. "Come on, admit it... this was way more exciting than serving coffee,"
She groaned. "I hate you,"
"Yeah, yeah." I shrugged and approached the wight's corpse
I crouched, inspecting the remains. How the hell did a wight end up here?
The barrier was still intact. The only explanation was that it had already been inside when I activated it.
And it couldn't have just happened to be lurking about the cabin when I arrived. Wights don't lurk around looking for prey, unless... they were summoned.
Which means...
"This wasn't random," I frowned
Triss blinked. "What?"
I stood, gripping my sword tighter.
"This thing wasn't here on coincidence. It was waiting here," My gaze flicked toward her. "For you,"
Triss was stunned, clearly confused. "Why would it be waiting for me? How did it know you would be coming here?"
I shook my head. "It didn't know I would be coming. It's summoner did,"
"Summoner?" she asked
"Yes, summoner," I exhaled. "Wights can be made by summoning a dark spirit from hell and putting it inside a dead body,"
Triss narrowed her eyes. "So you're saying, someone created this thing and sent it here to get me?"
I nodded. "Yeah. And my best guess is... the dark elves. They are skilled in dark magic and they probably knew I would bring you here,"
"But what bothers me is..." my gaze shifted to the wights dead corpse. "Is it the only one?"
Triss sighed with a worried expression. "It better be. I really can't sta..."
Crack!
Suddenly, a bony, rotting hand burst through the window beside Triss, shards of glass spraying across the room. She barely had time to scream before the wight lunged at her... jaws wide, black ichor dripping from its fangs.