A head appears in the doorway. Its the head of Mr X, it looks inside and peers about. The head retracts into the sky as the roof is torn off. A six winged leathery grey beast, its wings webbed and its head hanging down its long neck like a trunk, fires a beam of purple liquid from its mouth. Seraphiel is about to be struck and in his current form he can hardly react, Hiro rushes to him and throws him aside. He then pounces on the wall and then onto the flying creature, Hiro’s gums bleed profusely as his teeth shoot out and are replaced by fangs. He bites into the elongated neck of the beast and draws its blood inside himself. Mr X spins and bats its wings knocking him off, scale cover his neck and another head forms from the neck and fires a beam at both Seraphiel and Gwyn.

  Gwyn thinks. Can he even be killed in this form? Is he immortal in the dreamscape.

  Mr X lets out a wail and fires more beams, Hiro pushes the two of them out of the way and positions his hands like he is drawing a bow, blood swirls and forms the bow, he slowly lets go as the arrow stays in the air for a second before vanishing and blowing a hole through the chest of winged creature. Mr X screams in rage and grows rapidly to the size of a large building. He swings his head about the floor destroying the cabin and moves his wings infront of him. Where all the tips of the webbed wings align a ball appears and bubbles. He moves his wings apart expanding it and fires a beam through the ball. A cataclysmic explosion scorches the earth. All that remains is clay where the ground once was. Seraphiel and Gwyn have been vaporised, but a bat flies towards the giant seemingly without a wound. It screams creating ripples in the sound barrier.

  Mr X swats the bat splatting it against the floor. The bat gets back up and heals in an instant, a vampire could not be killed, Mr X could not shake that reality. It flew faster now to the back of his necks. Screaming so loud the scales shatter, black smoke engulfs the bat as Hiro falls out. His hands now claws and teeth fangs, he devours the flesh of Mr X and drinks his blood.

  Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

  His eyes turn pale along with his skin. He falls back and drops to the ground splatting.

  Upon drinking enough blood the vampire can mimic the abilities of the donor even without the pact.

  The dream starts to become

  Static and fuzzy like an old TV. Mr X rapidly shrinks, he pulsates and his flesh morphs. Eventually, he has been reduced into a small pale man. Seraphiel and Gwyn form again from the ashes as Hiro consumes the small Man.

  He covers his mouth to stop the blood from spurting out and chews quickly.

  Is this really Hiro? Is all Seraphiel could think. He could hardly recognise him.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  In an instant they all dropped to

  The floor and fell into a deep sleep.

  Seraphiel and Gwyn awoke in their beds. Looking outside Seraphiel noticed something strange. The adult Hiro was standing there, he was still here. Seraphiel runs out towards the door. “Hey, come here, how are you-“

  Silently the vampire turns and walks towards him. Gwyn rushes towards Seraphiel cabin in the distance. She arrives after a few minutes and is disturbed by the sight laying bare before her. The adult Hiro is covered in blood, he is consuming a body, chewing quickly he wipes his mouth. He turns around sharply looking at Gwyn.

  He lets loose a childish smile.

  “Hi Gwyn. I had a weird dream again.”

  Seraphiel returns to the bunker, “oh you’re here, i told him that he was a copy of the real Hiro, and well he insisted on privacy. Wait what have you done.”

  Seraphiel rushes towards the man.

  “What seraphiel? What’s wrong?” Hiro spits out, the voice is different but it is clearly the same mind controlling the speech.

  ”Hiro.” Seraphiel stops. “How, what-“

  Had Hiro possessed this body? Is he merely acting like Hiro?

  He leans against the bed and yawns. “When is the King gonna show up, I'm getting bored of this place.”

  As soon as those words were uttered, Mev comes into the line of sight. She is red and looks irritated. “The leader will like to speak to you. All three of you.” She raises her finger and points at all three of them. “Seraphiel, Gwyn, and Hiro. Come along with me. Now.”

  All three of them followed along behind Mev without saying a word for the whole duration of the walk. They descend down underground, they descended stone stairs and found themselves in a decadent hall. A single throne was placed in the blackish, purple room and a crown was placed on that throne.

  The air was cold and still.

  ”Leave.” A voice calls from the shadows. Mev obliges.

  “Seraphiel, Gwyn, and Hiro.” A figure falls from above the throne and lands crouched before standing up.

  Is this the King?

  His ashen hair but pale skin contrasted with both climates, Verez and Cairnreach.

  “You killed one of my trials, that pact beast. Do you know how difficult it was to locate.” He cracks his neck before appearing in front of Hiro.

  He’s fast.

  He launches his palm into Hiro’s stomach sending him flying out of the room, a trail of blood-vomit gave away his landing. Gwyn, barely has time to morph in the Sphinx before she is met with a spinning back kick to the jaw knocking her unconscious. Only Seraphiel remains standing.

  ”You are a nuisance, a useful nuisance.”

  The King grabs Seraphiel’s face and throws his towards the throne. He kicks his ribs knocking the air out of him, lifts him up and slams him down on the floor again. He grabs his head, holds it up and place the crown on top of it.

  ”Listen Seraphiel, you are going to use this crown for me, destroy the Kingdom of Zod, or i will destroy you and your peers.” The king tightens his grip on Seraphiel skull so hard it creaks. “Don’t try anything clever, attacking me will destroy the kingdom which resides above the ocean, Lyeer. Along with you and the other two anyway.”

  Seraphiel gritted his teeth. He tried to attack but the moment his talons extended they were sliced off.

  “10. 9. 8. 7. 6…” Seraphiel’s skull had cracked and blood poured out of the crevices. Brain matter clogged the ruptures.

  “…3. 2. 1….”

  The crown burnt Seraphiel’s skull as it glowed. The sky groaned.

  In the Kingdom of Zod, people frolic and play in the streets. A usual day.

  They all pause and look up, horripilation plagued them as they hold onto their head and yell.

  An eye looks down on the Kingdom of Zod.