Context: The world is dark. Primus, the first vampire, and the other members of the Ancients have been committing atrocities for centuries. In his pursuit of power, Primus has indeed become more powerful than anyone or thing, even striking a deal with Death that, should he fall, he cannot truly die. All seems lost and, really... it is.

Setting: Primus's castle

Tags:[MMMM4A][Ancient Vampire Speaker][Grim Reaper Speaker][Butler Speaker][Vampire General Speaker][Eldritch Listener][Confrontation][Eldritch/Lovecraftian][Megalomaniac][Mystery][What Are You][Horror][Lore Drops][CW: Mentions of Violence/Action/Death/Genocide]

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[P] = Primus, the first vampire and most powerful man on the planet

[G] = The Grim Reaper

[B] = Bernard, a butler who really wants no part of this

[X] = Xander, Primus's general and oldest friend

All text in italics are Eldritch whispers not attributed to any characters

***

[Scene opens in the dining hall of an ancient castle]

[SFX: Baroque music/dining ambiance - Medieval]

[A man sits at the head of a royal dining hall, raising a glass in a toast]

[P] “Attention, my esteemed guests.”

[SFX: The chatter dying immediately]

[Pause]

[P] “I just wanted to give thanks to all of the Ancients who joined in my celebration tonight. The rest will die, hmhm, but that’s for later. Let us celebrate another step in my rise to perfection. A cheers to you, Grim, for being kind enough to make a deal with me.”

[Pause]

[At the end of the table, the Grim Reaper himself raises a goblet]

[G] “A cheers to the first vampire, our immortal Primus.”

[SFX: A cheer being given]

[Primus reclines on his throne, pleased as a cat that knocked an urn off the shelf]

[P] “Mmh… What a ride. Born the first and grown to be the most powerful entity on the planet. The seas of blood, the desperate pleas, the satisfaction one gets when the genocide is done and you can focus your attention elsewhere… Well, I feel quite spoiled.”

[Pause]

[SFX: Some polite laughter]

[P] “Hmhm… We Ancients are the most powerful things here. Driven by a need to grow in power! And I daresay, my dysfunctional little family, that we’ve done very well for ourselves. I mean, I think I deserve to brag about having my soul eternally preserved by the Grim Reaper himself, don’t you?”

[SFX: Murmurs of affirmation]

[P] “Thank you. I know you have to flatter me by proxy, but you’ve all been doing it with such gusto lately! I do appreciate it… So sorry I had to gut a few of you to get the point across but, hey, you know how it is.”

[SFX: More laughter]

[P] “So, a toast. To power and domination! To a thousand more years of culling the weak!”

[G] “Here here.”

[SFX: A cheer/the music and ambiance fading back in while they resume their feast]

[Pause]

[After a moment, a young man pokes his head nervously into the hall]

[B] “A-Ah… Sire?”

[P] “Bernard, my favorite butler who is still alive! What can I do for you?”

[Pause]

[B, confused] “Sire? You appear to have a guest.”

[The Ancients all pause in their conversation, their King resting his cheek in his palm]

[P] “Oh? And what exactly is it this mysterious guest wants of the most powerful man on the planet?”

[Pause]

[The butler leans his head back for a moment and then pokes it back inside, infinitely paler]

[B] “...They said they are here to kill you, Sire.”

[Pause]

[SFX: The fire dipping briefly]

[There is silence at the table before the vampires all burst into laughter]

[P] “Oh my! And here I thought my guest of honor would be the one saying those words, eh, Grim?”

[G, chuckling] “It is a bit early in the evening, Primus… I haven’t touched my food yet.”

[Pause]

[P, still chuckling] “Oh, I do love a good prank… Alright. Why not? I do love my food fresh as possible."

[B] “Y-Yes, Sire.”

[The butler steps aside and allows you to enter]

[SFX: A coffin dragging across the ground]

[You walk into the dining hall of the Ancients and face Primus and his family]

[Pause]

[The First Vampire extends his arms, power making the room shake]

[P] “Well… Look at you. A ragged little thing with a ragged little shovel, shouldering a coffin on their ragged little back, hmhm. Trying to intimidate me, perhaps? Make me think, ‘Oh no, Death is coming for me!’. You may wish to wait until the man himself finishes eating.”

[...]

[The God of Death lets out a chuckle and raises a goblet in a toast]

[G] “Yes, do forgive me… I’m not really here to kill anyone tonight and, even if you could hurt Primus, I’ve agreed to safeguard his presence on this plane. After all… Someone must always be the strongest.”

[...]

[SFX: A swarm of crows cawing and flying outside]

[P] “Oh, look. It finally moved its head a little. Nice of you to-”.

[You break from your slow, rigid walk with a grunt. Before any of them can move, think, or react, you grasp the shovel and point it towards Death itself]

[G] “Ohoho… pointing that rusted little shovel at me? Did you literally just walk in here to die, little No Name?”

[SFX: The crows cawing getting louder/indecipherable whispering]

The strong

[SFX: The Listener clanging their shovel against the coffin once]

The weak

[SFX: The crows and whispers growing louder]

There is no difference

[P, laughing madly] “Oh, look at the show it's putting on! Crows and ravens blotting out the moonlight, conjuring mad little whispers! Adorable… But you must realize-”.

[SFX: CLANG]

[The other Ancients recoil as you connect the shovel to the coffin once more]

An’ anatas ver’is…

[Death, somehow, pales. He stands, sweat pouring out of his brow]

[G] “W…What is this?!”

[SFX: CLANG]

[P] “Grim…? What’s gotten into you?”

[G, panicking] “I-I don’t know this feeling, I don’t understand! M-My hands are shaking, I cannot breathe, I-I…”

[SFX: CLANG]

[G, screaming] “STOP! PLEASE!”

[P] “Grim! Get a hold of yourself, you’re the God of Death!”

[Grim stumbles back, almost clawing at his chest in sheer, desperate adrenaline]

[G] “PLEASE!!!”

[P] “GRIM-!”

[SFX: CLANG!!!]

[The last hit rings out across the dining hall and the Grim Reaper screams once more, his entire essence bursting into long-cooled ash]

[SFX: Something akin to paper burning and crumbling to ash]

[Pause]

[There is silence in the hallway as the Grim Reaper crumbles to ash, screams faded into the night]

[P] “...You… killed him…”

[SFX: Clang]

[Primus flinches. It’s subtle but enough. You see weakness. Smell it]

Run

[The Ancient sitting to his right stands, taking a few steps back]

[P] “Xander, hold your ground!”

[X] “...It just killed Death itself…”

[P] “If you dare show cowardice-!”

[G] “THERE IS NO COWARDICE IN TRYING TO PRESERVE YOURSELF, YOU FOOL! I am your general, you have trusted my decisions for eons! So swallow your damned pride and call for a retreat until we can figure out what we’re dealing with!!’

[SFX: Clang!]

Run

[Pause]

[SFX: CLANG!]

Run

[P] “...Call the retreat!”

[SFX: The crows and whispering escalating]

[The Ancients rise in a flurry, wings spreading as they try and head a retreat]

[X] “Move, MOVE! It’s weighed down by the coffin, use speed to your advantage!!”

[...]

[SFX: Bones cracking into place]

[P, lingering] “What is it doing?!”

[X] “It’s gone down to all fours… Maybe it’s winded?”

[SFX: The coffin rapidly scraping across the ground/arachnid-like movements]

[P] “FUCKING HELL-!” “

[X] “GO, PRIMUS!”

[The general shoves him out of the way as you rapidly advance on all fours, darting between tables, silverware, from wall to the ceiling]

[Pause]

Run

[Primus flies back as you pounce Xander, staring down into the general’s face]

[X, quiet/desperate] “Gods preserve me… It has no face-!”

[P] “XANDER!”

[X] “RUN, PRIMUS!”

[SFX: Vampiric wings flapping en masse and desperately]

[The others flee rapidly, almost stumbling over themselves while Gregor lies still beneath you, stoic still]

[X] “...Do it, then! Finish me off!”

[...]

[You lean down close to his ear, forming a mouth so you can speak]

[SFX: Flesh rending/rearranging/forming, if desired]

Anat’oros eslin veris.

[With that, you let him up, rising to your full height and slinging the coffin on your back]

[X] “...Is that the message you wish me to tell Primus?”

[...]

[You say nothing. You turn toward where Primus fled and begin another laborious walk after your target]

[X] “Wait! Why are you doing this?!”

[Again, you say nothing. You must move forward]

[...]

[SFX: A gradually fading series of ‘clangs’ from the Listener tapping their shovel on the ground]

[To be continued]

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anat’oros eslin veris.

They, who tills the field. They, who sings to the universe and hear its song in return.

Know well the shadow that stretches in their wake

And that shadow shall project from their deeds and word

A Destroyer, without a Songbird

To wake them from their dreams of grandeur and godhood

That shadow follows eternally

The projection of the one given everything and all they’ve done