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Scott woke up. That in itself was odd… Vampires didn’t need to sleep and he had long ago stopped taking naps. He had enough on his plate, he needed every moment of every day, resting was a waste of his time.
His eyes opened fully and the darkness made him frown, his vision cut straight through the veil and it took him a second to realise he was in his coffin. His hand came up to push the rough stone - it grated with a harsh sound as he gave himself enough room to sit up, he exhaled and noted the stale air - he turned his head and recognised the crypt he had commissioned. It looked like his final resting place…
He shook his head. He was still alive, or… alive enough, he needed to get out of here.
He stepped out gracefully from his coffin and patted his clothes down, he adjusted his hair and straightened, he would need to check how his coven were doing.
Walking through the crypts was more chilling than he remembered. Even from down here he would always be able to hear the sounds of his castle above, the guests never stopped coming and the parties never ended, he was a spectacle and he needed an audience to praise him for it.
Ignoring the tombs and skulls lining the walls he made it to the stairs and leaped out, he wasn’t as strong as he remembered… he only got halfway up and as he reached for his bat form his hunger flared making him hiss. He landed on the staircase and growled, his hunger made him shiver and clutch his chest like the monster every human labelled him to be. He was never hungry… well, never for long. He had sacrifices awaiting him at any moment, his every desire was fulfilled like it would be someone else’s death sentence.
He ran his tongue over his fangs and realised he must’ve been in that coffin for a long time, he could survive a handful of centuries without eating no problem… This? This felt like he had gone hungry for far longer. He was starving.
Sucking in air he regathered himself before climbing the last of the steps. Where was everyone, he needed blood now-
He froze at the sight of his castle. It was in ruins…
His mouth hung open before he shut it with a click, regardless of what hits he took he was always to be composed.
He straightened and scouted out his home. No one was around… and they hadn’t been for a while.
He sniffed the air and narrowed his eyes at the shadows, mice scuttled away at his presence, his tapestries and paintings lay on the floor, their meticulous details swallowed up by years of rot and decay.
He ran his hand over the grand dining table, it buckled under his gentle touch and dust fluttered over the ground.
Scott… had never dealt with this before. Sure, he had seen many places like this, he’d heard his companions mutter about how sad it was, how much someone lost while he raided those abandoned castles for treasure. He had always scoffed and told them to hush about such things, those who fell so far obviously deserved it, they had not been strong enough, they got too comfortable in their power-
Scott… was one of them now.
He winced and moved to the dais his throne used to sit on. He’d hidden some of his personal belongings there- As he moved mahogany wood and ancient stone he found his items stolen.
Wow… he really was at square one, not a lick of wine to soothe his mind, no gems to pocket or ancient books to read.
He tisked and marched to the entrance of his home - it was impossible to see how wondrous the place used to look, he recalled gold lining the stone, carvings enacting his victories and his family name etched at the top. None of that was left. Even the word Goldsmith was impossible to make out.
He felt anger brew inside of him, he let it grow and allowed it to replace the heavy weight he’d gained from seeing all he’d worked for destroyed.
His name was a meaningful one, all who carried it were hand picked and taught to stay in line. The Goldsmiths had a reputation, they owned most of the world and with each day they claimed more land. He’d been so close, so close to having it all and as he walked briskly to the last place he remembered a town standing he vowed to have it again.
He was an ancient thing… he’d felled armies, slaughtered civilisations and earnt his title through blood. He bared his fangs, tasting the air and pausing at the top of a hill. There were people down there… he could sense them. The towns walls were decrepit - completely useless in keeping anything out. He saw torches being lit as the night fell, he smelt them recovering from a long journey and heard the mutter of chatter as they planned where to stay. He would tear them apart… he would satiate his hunger and then he would find his next fledglings… The Goldsmith name would not die out, as long as he was standing his coven would live on-
He heard the whistle of an arrow and side stepped- whoever was attacking was smart because he moved into the path of another projectile.
He screamed as the arrow lodged into his calf, he went down on one knee, glaring at his opponents. Who dared-?
A net flared towards him and he rolled out of the way, the silver landed beside him and his eyes widened as he realised these hunters knew his nature.
“Goldsmith!” The grating voice of a male shouted out happily. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up!”
Another bolt sliced against Scott’s ear as a third landed in his shoulder. He growled, curling over before ripping it out. His hands stung, his injuries were on fire- Silver, all of it was silver-
Humans appeared out of the shadows and they moved to grab him, he struck out with his claws and found quickly that they had dulled. He wasn’t doing nearly as much damage to them as they were doing to him-
He wrestled with them, backup always pushing and pulling him to prevent him from biting anyone. The taunt of blood was so strong as it rushed through his enemy’s veins. He hissed and slammed a man’s head into the ground, he twisted another’s arm till it snapped and reached for a third person to maim before a shackle shut around his wrist. He snarled at the human stupid enough to do that, he pulled them in and-
Something came over his head and within two well practiced moves a muzzle was locked around his face.
Scott’s eyes widened with shock. A muzzle??? Were these hunters seriously muzzling him?!
He killed two men in his rage before the second shackle was attached to his free wrist and another arrow was lodged between his ribs. He pulled it out and kept fighting, he would always outlast those who sought to take him down-
Holy water was splashed on him, three bottles emptied over his person. He wobbled and went down briefly, intending to push past the nausea, pain and weakness-
His hunger flared and he yelped as he was tackled. Hands pinned him down and the net found its way over top of him. He wheezed into the dirt, his skin on fire and not even a drop of their blood on his face to make this all worth it.
“Careful with him, he’s valuable…” The speaker from before warned.
Scott hoped he could break out but he was only handled rougher as they picked him up and threw him onto a cart. No one left him alone for even a second as he was pinned down again. The horse was urged to walk on and the hunters cheered with their prize acquired.
Scott’s vision swam and his mouth itched to bite into something, he hissed weakly past his injuries and waited patiently for the moment everyone’s attention slipped.
He would tear all their throats out.
-----
The crowd’s roars were not something Scott ever thought he would hate. As his name was announced and the audience cheered with bloodthirsty glee he found himself loathing each and every person who looked forward to his appearance.
“There he is! The last Goldsmith! Isn’t he a sight?” The announcer’s voice echoed throughout the arena.
Scott stumbled onto familiar bleached sand and growled lowly past his muzzle, the heavy chains on his wrists bent his posture forward and the silver that sent shivers through his body burned with a vengeance. A hand met the back of his head and the muzzle slipped off, he rolled his jaw and turned to his captors with his wrists held up expectantly.
“Those ones stay on today.” The grizzly man with a scar across his bearded throat grinned.
Of course, just his luck.
Scott groaned and turned to see who his opponent would be. Three humans… three pesky people whose execution was about to become everyone else’s entertainment.
Scott licked his chapped lips, his hunger flaring as he thought about his last meal. He only got to eat the people in the arena… he was too strong for his captors, even as weakened as he was now, the last two fights he was in held no edible blood for him, he was long overdue for a feeding.
He stepped forward battling his instincts. He was constantly fighting that feeling of turning feral, he knew that if he gave in it would consume him. He had no one, no coven and no allies who would come to his aid. He had to stay aware of himself, he had to calculate his way through these laughably easy kills.
The humans moved at the sound of the horn. They each had a shield and a weapon, Scott only had his claws and they were all he needed.
He twisted his foot into the soil and used it as leverage to dodge the first attack, the chains on his wrists rattled and the crowd shouted for him to be set free. No other contestant was disadvantaged like this- Scott lunged and slaughtered two of the humans, the crowd gasped, stunned at his speed. He approached the final human and they held up their shield, fear on their face.
Scott growled, his once pristine hair a mess, his eyes a deep red. He snapped their shield under the force of his weight, he twisted their wrist and lunged for their throat- They screamed as they went down, the crowd cheered and Scott drank greedily, his eyes on the other blood bags in case someone got the bright idea to snatch them off him.
Once he was done he finished the other two, he ran his thumb over his lips and grinned sharply at the announcer, his gaze promised death upon the man. The human was unphased, there wasn’t a single fight were Scott didn’t meet his eye with that look. He talked to the crowd and listed off Scott’s attributes like he was a valuable breed of dog. Scott sneered and ran his hands down his tattered clothes. He used to be feared… He used to be untouchable, god-like and revered.
He searched for an exit while he had the chance, his only wish was for a weakness to appear, something he could use to escape.
His mind flew to all the fighters who had managed to run off while he distracted the guards. He’d watched hundreds of them go, yearning to be where they were but unable to follow in their footsteps.
Unfortunately for him he made the gladiator arena a lot of money, he was their most valuable asset and he was the only one they cared about keeping.
The doors opened on the opposite end of the arena and a beast was pushed out. It landed on all fours and roared, its dark fur ruffling in agitation from its confines and its nose sniffing the air before its amber eyes landed on him.
Scott bared his teeth and it snarled back at him. He suddenly wished his hands were free, he’d killed many creatures like this back when they roamed the earth in more numerous numbers but he’d never been tied up while doing it.
He tensed his legs and prepared to pounce.
-----
Scott was slammed into a wall and he felt it crack behind him. He groaned, the beast landing on him and tearing him apart with its claws.
The managers of the arena must really love the ‘starving their fighters’ trick. It was clear this massive creature was hungry as it snapped its teeth at Scott.
The vampire had already suffered two deaths to the hands of this thing, he felt another death rise up to claim him and he chocked on the feeling of hunger and frustration inside of him. He wanted to let go so badly, he wanted to snap his chains and go feral, teach the humans exactly why vampires were to be respected. He swallowed it down, he felt himself stitch back together before he tore himself out of the monster’s pin.
He was a Goldsmith, he wasn’t about to be bested.
He slashed his claws at the beast and climbed up its arm. He got to its neck and faced the same issue he had the last five times he got to this point, there was too much fur at the nape of its neck, he couldn’t bite down and draw blood, he couldn’t heal himself, bleed his enemy dry or dig his nails into important spinal nerves. He grumbled and started tearing out fur, there was no safe spot for him to bite this thing, he was trying to steer clear of its paws and while he’d blinded one of its eyes it only got angrier so going anywhere near its face was a bad idea.
The animal roared, clearly it hated Scott being on its back. He felt the muscles ripple under the creature’s skin, it attempted reaching for him with its claws, Scott spotted the second it nicked itself.
His eyes widened and he gave up on ripping its fur out, he needed this thing to hurt itself, it was the only one strong enough to do so.
He got closer to where it could reach him and struck his claws down towards the wound, the beast bellowed in pain, picking up its efforts to get him.
Scott held on tight as the monster threw its claws towards him, slashes marked its skin and the scent of blood in the air made Scott’s mouth salivate. He kept agitating its injuries and it went ballistic. What the vampire hadn’t accounted for was for the beast’s desperation to urge it to roll onto its back. Scott felt several bones break as the air left his lungs swiftly. Thank goodness he didn’t need to breathe or anything.
It turned on him with narrowed eyes and Scott almost wanted to mutter an ancient curse, the situation seemed appropriate. He lifted himself onto his elbows and shuffled backwards, he knew whatever distance he created with his opponent was futile but it gave him a second to assess.
Yep… he was cornered. His arms wobbled under him and he groaned as the creature charged. How many deaths was he on?
Teeth clamped around him and threw him across the arena, Scott woke up to hot breath on his skin as he blearily blinked past his revive. There were too many broken bones in his body for his comfort, if he could take just a moment to recover then maybe he could get to his opponent’s wounds and feed- The beast grabbed him by the hair, how it managed to do that he didn’t know, and it shook him like a ragdoll. He grit his teeth and used his momentum to sink his claws into its jaw. The beast made a sound and Scott could tell it was unused to its food surviving this long. He wrapped his legs around its large snout and held on as it yelped.
As awkward as his position was, the dizziness from being swung around was nothing compared to the compounding injuries he would get on the floor. His wounds closed up slowly and he exhaled as his ribs snapped into place.
Ok… Attempt number 2.
He punched the beast in the throat and dropped to the floor as it let go. He ran to a wall, sprinting up it and vaulting towards the monster- Before he could land on its back he was batted out of the air with a giant paw and sent tumbling across the sand, granules sprayed everywhere. He spat out some grit in his mouth and deflated as the beast ran towards him again.
It didn’t quit did it?
He stiffened, ready to roll if needed- A sound echoed into the arena from the stands.
Chaos erupted outside of the pit, the crowd screamed as authorities appeared and handcuffed them to their seats, the announcer was tackled to the floor and Scott heard the guards at the arena gates fighting.
The beast had only been temporarily distracted by the sounds. Once its head finished its swivel it returned its amber eyes to him.
Here we go.
Scott got up and prepared himself. The beast prowled forwards and snarled, he snarled back to show he was angry too. It moved to circle him, Scott kept it in front of him… if he could just get some of its blood he was sure he could win this fight.
An arrow flew from the stands towards the beast, it roared as its hide got pierced.
Scott took its distraction as an opportunity to run at it. He leaped onto its back and crawled to an open wound. He sunk his fangs in and fed.
More arrows rained down and Scott suddenly feared getting hit. He had no clue what was happening outside the meal he was eating, he needed enough strength to escape.
As soon as the risks outweighed the reward he dropped off the creature, it was swiping at the air, roaring and trying to find shelter away from the raining attack, the arena had always been too open… If anyone needed to be killed they would be, there was nowhere to hide.
Scott stumbled backwards and felt his back meet a wall, his eyes searched the stands and he saw the encroaching force tie up the last stragglers. The gates opened and the final shots were taken at the beast that had nearly ended Scott’s life. It fell to the ground heavily, the numerous projectiles protruding from its form telling of how much he would’ve needed to do to win his fight.
“Scott Goldsmith.”
Scott’s head whipped to the person who said his name. The human had a crossbow held up, the silver tipped arrow a warning not to move.
“And you are?” He smiled showing off his bloody fangs.
The man dressed in a pristine black suit signaled for the people at the gates to stand by. Over a dozen weapons were pointed at Scott, he couldn’t die by their hand but it would be painful.
“Abolish.” The man introduced. “We heard you got captured.”
Scott looked him up and down. “I did… What, were you searching for me?” He chuckled weakly past his healing bones.
“We were.” Abolish left no room for humour. “We monitored your sleep, we were supposed to be there when you woke up.”
“But you weren’t.” Scott straightened and lifted his chin challengingly. He wasn’t going to fall for lies.
“No, for that I give you our sincerest apologies-“
“And you weren’t very fast finding me.” Scott tilted his head. The arena had gone silent, only orders were barked in the stands to keep the civilians in line.
“You were hard to find.” Abolish frowned. “But you are safe now, our organisation was hoping to reintroduce you to the modern world, catch you up on all you missed.”
“I don’t think humanity has changed all that much.” Scott wiped the back off his hand across his face, his chains clinked as his eyes traced over the arena he had spent months in. “Your cruelty is all the same.” He commented.
Abolish sighed. “There is still good out there, we were hoping to show you that.” He lowered his crossbow and clicked it to his hip, he held out a hand but Scott spotted the silver knife in his sleeve.
Men who took precautions survived, men who stabbed first and asked questions later where Scott’s enemy. He took Abolish’s hand and shook it waiting for his cruelty to show itself.
The black-haired man smiled and suddenly there was a charm there that was previously hidden. Scott followed him out of the gates, towards freedom. He had no home to go to, no one who missed him.
He eyed Abolish and decided somewhere between all the fighters being retrieved and looked after that he wanted to see what the man had to offer.
The battle was over… his past was behind him; Maybe he could find a future for himself. It was slim but Scott was never one to lay down and die.
He would get out of these chains.
He would live on.