Here it is, for your SR fan fiction enjoyment, Story 1 of "The Helios Chronicles" Options Track this topic Email this topic Print this topic Download this topic Subscribe to this forum Display Modes Outline Switch to: Standard Switch to: Linear+

[HMHVV Hunter]

Alright, here's the first story of "The Helios Chronicles," a series of stories I'm writing starring my vampire hunter character, Helios. I'm putting it behind a spoiler tag since it's so long.

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[ Spoiler ]

Story 1: It Begins With an End

December 17th, 2057.

That was the night that my peaceful, suburban life was forever taken from me by the forces of darkness, and the night that the undead gained their most dangerous enemy.

Six years later, I still remember every detail of it…

I was 16 when it happened. My family – dad, mom, big bro Jack and my big sister Rachel – all lived in a nice place in Renton in the Seattle Metroplex. You know, typical middle-class home – not a mansion, but comfortable. Dad had a nice cushy job with a AA subsidiary of Fuchi, enough to keep us all fed and for some decent presents to be waiting under the tree around Christmas time.

Mom worked in the Thaumaturgy department at the local community college; she was a shaman following Dog’s path. A kid couldn’t ask for a more devoted protector than ma; she had better than average talent with just about any sort of protection magic you could think of, and she sure as hell bared her fangs on the rare occasions when we were in danger. My friends all gave her the nickname “The Bitch” ‘cause of her path; they said it out of earshot for the longest time, but the first time they let it slip out around her, she busted out laughing.

Yeah, mom was the best…

Bro and sis always tried to play protector ‘cause I was the youngest. I hated them for the longest time for it, but looking back, they probably saved me from more than a few bad decisions. I was glad when they went off to college; I felt like I finally had a chance to be alone and on my own.

Who knew they would be the ones needing protection…

The night it happened, I was over at my friend’s next door, playing the ol’ game system. That series of eight-player deathmatches went on for hours, and before we knew it we had completely lost track of time. When we finally checked our watches, it was 3 a.m. I decided to run home in time to avoid the lecture I knew I was going to get from my siblings about staying out so late. I could have sworn that the only reason they’d come home from college wasn’t for Christmas break, but to irritate the hell out of me.

I decided to avoid the inevitable lecture by taking the back door into my house. The main staircase wasn’t far from that entrance, and I figured with any luck, I’d be able to sneak in ninja-style and creep up to my room without the damned creaking floors waking anyone up or alerting my probably awake sister. She always was the night owl; funny how she always lectured me the most about being up late…

Anyways, I snuck in through the screen door in the back since those things don’t creak, and managed to get in without making too much of a racket. A regular ninja job. Well, at least I liked to think so.

I was so intent on sneaking over to the staircase just 20 feet away that it didn’t register that the entire house was dark. Once my brain started processing though, it hit me as to just how strange it was. My sister never went to bed until 4 a.m. typically, and yet there wasn’t even the slightest spillage of light from another room. Not even anything coming down the staircase to the upper level, where the bedrooms were. Given that this was the week before Christmas, I couldn’t believe that Rachel would go to bed early.

The more I thought about this, the more nervous I was getting, so I went over to the lamp and hit the lights…

And was greeted with the TV room. Nothing unusual. The TV was off, the couch was empty except for the blanket laying on it, and the two tables had the usual family pictures on it, completely undisturbed.

Oh well, I thought. This was strange, but I wasn’t about to question my good fortune at having been spared another sisterly lecture.

I was about to switch the lights back off when I heard a creaking sound from the upstairs floorboards.

For some reason that I couldn’t figure out, this made me nervous. Maybe it was just the strangeness of things that had set me on edge, but that creaking gave me an eerie feeling in my gut. I forgot about the lights and dashed over to the foot of the staircase, peeking up to see if I could see anything, finding only pitch blackness.

I heard the creaking again, sounding like it was headed towards the room at the end of the upstairs hallway. My heart pumping a mile a minute, I waited until the sound was past my position, then slowly walked up the staircase, my back to the wall, just like you see the spies do in those cheesy movies. Peeking around the corner at the source of the sound, I saw an unfamiliar profile walk into my parents’ room.

At this point, I was scared shitless. All my years of sneaking to my bedroom in the night in our house had taught me to read the shadowy profiles of my family to avoid the worst lecturers, and that guy was definitely not one of my family! There was a burglar in our house, or maybe someone worse!

Trying to control my hard breathing, I snuck around and walked up the stairs as fast as I could, not caring about the damn wall-hug anymore, and snuck up next to the now-closed door to my parents room, trying to listen for anything.

For some reason, even though nearly every instinct in my body was screaming at me to run away and call Lone Star, something inside me told me to go in and see what the hell was going on. I ended up following that instinct after a couple minutes of internal deliberating, slowly moving my shaking hand towards the doorknob and creeping it open, inch by inch so as not to make a noise.

When I opened the door completely and took a look inside, I saw something that made my body freeze.

I saw my parents, lying on the bed, covered in blood. Both had their eyes open in far-away stares, mouths hanging open in now-silent screams.

After my mind took a minute to process what was before me, I burst into tears and ran over to the two, desperately trying to revive them using everything I knew from school – CPR, chest-pounding, anything. I knew it was useless, that they were already dead, but dammit…there had to be something I could do!

I was pounding my father’s chest as hard as I could when I noticed them. Two holes, right in the neck area. The vein, or the artery, or whatever blood-carrying body part was in that area had obviously been punctured, since there were no other wounds on either of them.

It didn’t hit me for a few seconds, but when it did, it came like a sledgehammer.

Vampire.

I’d heard of these creatures before, and everyone accepted that they existed since they were in Patterson’s field guide and all those sources, but damn…it’s not something you think will ever happen to you or someone close to you!

Suddenly, I remembered my siblings. They weren’t safe either, if this psycho was still in the house!

Forgetting silence completely, I dashed down the hallway and busted open the doors to both their rooms.

It was already too late for them. Same lifeless stares, same blood-soaked beds, same two holes in the same spots in the necks.

I couldn’t think of anything to do except fall to the ground and start weeping. My entire family had just been killed by some psychopath, my life as I knew it was over…everything was collapsing around me in the span of a few short minutes. I just wanted to die at that moment, to end the suffering I was going through.

“Ah, the last one.”

Startled, I looked up from where I was crying to see the owner of the growling voice who had just said the sentence.

He was at least 6’8” (slightly taller than me), and he was wearing one of those leather biker jackets and jeans. He was flashing a set of blood-stained teeth at me, sneering, and I then knew that he was the psychopath that had killed everyone.

The minute I saw him, I changed my mind about dying. I wasn’t going to end up another blood-drained corpse. I stood up, tears still staining my face, and faced him.

“You,” I said accusingly, my voice shaking. “You’re the murderer.”

“Gee, what a sharp mind,” he said mockingly, rolling his eyes like this was some damn friendly conversation.

His attitude sent me seething, and the shakiness in my voice immediately vanished as I spat verbal fire at him.

“You psycho son of a bitch, WHY?!!”

He simply wiped the blood from his lips and answered, “Because I was hungry. Nothing personal, ya know; just food. Besides, I make it a point to have some fun every night.”

At that point, I just lost it. I was ready to suicide-charge this guy. There was no way out since he was blocking the door, so I figured that if I was going to die here, I’d at least go down fighting.

I lunged at the bloodsucker and slugged him with all my might, sending his head jerking in such a way that it hit the door frame and fell to the ground.

“You may have killed my family, but you’re not getting me!” I yelled at him as I ran out the door and headed downstairs.

Gotta get outta here, I thought as I ran down the staircase. Gotta call Lone Star and tell them what happened; they can get this guy.

Even as I processed those thoughts, however, something inside me welled up. It’s…hard to describe. It felt like I suddenly had a fire roaring in the pit of my stomach, and it consuming my entire body, giving me strength as it spread.

At that moment, I knew that I was going to stand and fight this guy. That I could stand and fight. And that I could win.

Having arrived at the front door by this time, I course-corrected and ran for the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers and looking for the sharpest and largest knife I could find. I found the butcher knife that the family used for the gigantic hams we bought for Christmas and decided that would do. I then steeled myself in the middle of the kitchen, waiting for the monster to follow me down.

He walked into the kitchen shortly thereafter, shambling in like some cocky punk. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was expecting another course to his meal, and he laughed when he saw the knife in my hand.

“Ah, the warrior awaits!” he said, laughing his ass off. He obviously thought this was the most hilarious thing in the world.

“You will pay for what you have done, monster,” I growled, my voice firm and angry. “And I will see to it that you suffer!”

“You?! HA! That’s rich!” he replied, tossing his head back and extending his fangs. “Now sit back and relax; it’ll all be over soon…”

That was when the dam burst.

I flew into action with a speed that surprised even me, shouting an anguished war cry and burying the knife deep into the vampire’s shoulder. Blood spurted from the wound, and the foul being howled, more in surprise than in pain I think. I twisted the knife and yanked it out, opening the wound even wider and triggering another howl.

Wasting no time, I hopped backwards, out of the vampire’s attack range, holding the knife in front of me. The creature of the night put one hand to the wound and held it there, looking at me with raw hatred in his eyes. Clearly, he didn’t like his meals biting back.

“That was foolish, cattle!” he shouted. “Now I’ll see to it that you suffer!”

“That’s my line,” I growled, as I leaped at him again. I sliced at him again, tagging him in the face and drawing more blood. He was ready this time, though, and tried to grab my arm, but I twisted away and ended up behind him, plunging the knife into his back and following the same twist-and-pull motion from before as I kicked him square in the small of the back. The vampire went sprawling against the kitchen sink.

It was only then I realized that I had just out-reflexed a vampire and that I had covered a distance of more than 15 feet with my single leap towards him.


I didn’t have time to dwell on that, though; the vampire was already getting up and getting that familiar pissed-off look on his face. I didn’t wait this time; I stepped towards him again and plunged the knife into his throat, triggering a gurgling scream from the murderer.


I stared the bastard in the face and grinned as I pushed the knife in as deeply as I could, causing the blade to exit through the back of his neck.

“Who’s the hunter now, punk?!” I said as I hurled the bloodsucker to the floor, knife still lodged in his throat.

I straddled his chest and removed the knife with the same twist and pull, triggering a yelp. I plunged the knife into his chest without delay, pinning him to the ground and making sure I hit as close to the heart as I could.

“How’s it feel to be on the other end, huh?!” I yelled. “How’s it feel to realize you’re nothing but a bullying bitch that preys on the weak?!! How’s it feel to know you’re not that much of a big-shot after all?!!”

He strained to speak through the blood bubbling up in his mouth and from the wound in his throat.

“Please…” he gasped. “…have…mercy…”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Mercy? This fuckhead had just murdered my whole family, tried to kill me, laughed about it, and he wanted mercy?!!

“MERCY?!!” I yelled so loudly I thought that house would shake. “YOU DON’T DESERVE MERCY, YOU ABOMINATION!!!”

I pulled the knife out of his heart and stared at the predator that I now had at my mercy. I contemplated all the ways I could kill him, make him suffer before giving him a better death than he deserved.

I mutilated him. Carefully, with the precision of a surgeon and the coldness of a scalpel. Listened as he continued screaming for mercy. I mutilated him four ways, one for each of my family members. The fangs I forcibly removed were for my sister. The eyes I put out were for my brother. The tongue I cut out was for my father, and the heart I excised to ensure his death was for my mother. Only when the last part was removed did he stop screaming and finally die. When it was finished, I hacked his head off as an added fail-safe to end any doubt as to whether he’d be back.

I didn’t realize until much later that what I did to that vampire could have led down a very bad road in life, down the Twisted Way. I didn’t even know I had Awakened as an adept; I just knew that I could move faster and jump farther than normal men. I didn’t know what an Awakening felt like. Even if I had known at the time, it probably wouldn’t have stopped me; I was too incensed and traumatized to think clearly, to realize the brutality with which I had mutilated the murderer of my family.

I suppose it doesn’t matter now. I’m not a Twisted Way adept; let me make that much clear. I’ve never sprouted freakish deformities in conjunction with my powers, nor do I prey on humans. I draw my power from the protectiveness I feel for those who cannot fight for themselves and from my drive to see the day when no one has to suffer as my family did. Of course there’s anger mixed in there, but it aids me; it does not consume me. I should also point out that I haven’t mutilated another undead since that night, though the temptation has certainly been there.

I’m drifting again. Anyways, long story short: My sympathy for humanity is what makes me different from a Twisted Way adept. A Twisted One would be sociopathically cold towards humanity as a whole, a “carpet bomber” if you will. I’m more of a “surgical strike” adept, reserving my anger for the predators that stalk our midst but feeling compassion and sympathy for normal metahumanity. And that’s where I’m different.

Anyways…back to the past. After I killed the vampire, I realized that unless I did something about my family’s bodies, they’d rise again as new vampires. I knew what I had to do, as much as it hurt to admit it to myself. I went outside and broke off some thick branches from the trees outside, fashioning them into crude stakes using the butcher knife. When I was done, I went back up and staked all four of my family members through the hearts. They hadn’t risen as the undead yet, but I couldn’t take the chance. I couldn’t let them become monsters like him. I wept as I did it. I said my goodbyes to each of them in turn, sending them to their final rest, beyond the reach of the vampire’s accursed disease.

After that, I gathered up a bag, stuffed some clothes into it, and ran. I couldn’t think of anything else to do; I had just killed a man, and Lone Star would be on my ass for sure, even with the fact that the bastard was a quadruple murderer.

So I ran. I didn’t know where I was going; all I could do was run and hope that I was headed towards the light, wherever I was going…

(end of story 1)