This landscape was very different from the Eastern world. The trees, animals, even the soil seemed unusual. The land was now mostly forest. The ancient human buildings and structures could be seen everywhere, crumbling and deteriorating as they were overrun by the thriving plants.
D had lost track of how long it had been since they landed, let alone since they left their homeland, but the moment he stepped foot on these defiled grounds he began to feel uneasy. He didn’t say anything though, it wasn’t like they were going to turn around and leave because of a hunch. That didn’t bother the hunter much though. Either he succeeded or failed, lived or died. Whatever happens, happens. And that’s all.
Now, the group had made their way to the middle of an ancient vampire slave town, a small settlement where the Cyrus kept their slaves when they weren’t working. The area was filled with small shacks made of wood, stone, and clay. Around the area was a tall wall with only two openings. And in the center was a large, sickeningly graceful looking altar. It didn’t seem like anyone but D knew what happened atop this structure.
The hunter pulled his eyes away from the altar and shuddered. He felt uneasy earlier, but being here, in this place, in this spot, looking up at the iniquitous structure, made him even more uncomfortable.
“No! Wait, wait!” Janet shouted at the diggers as they tried to unearth the buried portion of the altar, which, along with the rest of the shacks near by, was mostly hidden in dirt, as they had been build around swamp land and had sunk over time. “Be careful! Don’t chip anything!”
“Cuidadoso! Cuidadoso! Rotura nada!” Adelio said standing next to her.
D turned and sat on a large rock; Aiokan floated up to him and hovered next to the dunpeal, fumbling with a silver chain around his neck. One of Dracula’s guardians were instructed to give it to him before they left the castle. It enabled the symbiote to move in and out of D’s palm without the vampire kings help, a skill he didn’t have before.
“Are you as hungry as I am?” Aiokan asked, looking around. “I could really go for a cheeseburger. ...Do they make those anymore? Maybe a slice of pizza would be nice. Or, no, some pasta. Nah, those are all fattening. Chocolate cake though... mmm....” Though he was strangely ghost-like, the symbiote in his individual form, like any other living creature, had the basic needs for survival.
The hunter stood up, his eyes fixed. Not on the altar this time, but on something else.
“Double fudge brownie pie with whip cream and little chocolate sprinkles... Damnit, now I’m just making myself hungrier. Hey, didn’t you just sit down?”
D began to walk toward what he had his eyes on, ignoring the creature.
“Mashed potatoes... salmon fillet... deep fried shrimp... Where are you going? Oh, and caviar... Wait, I hate caviar.”
The hunter made his way over to one of the shacks that were furthest away from the group. He hesitated only a moment before stepping inside. Though it had sunk a fair bit, the opening was still big enough so that he could crouch and crawl inside. Looking around at the dim interior, there was not much to see. Then something small, yet familiar caught D’s eye.
He reached down and began to dig the partially buried object out of the dirt, then picked it up in his hand. It was a small, barely recognizable doll, that seemed so very tiny as it rested in D’s large palm. Tattered, worn and filthy with dirt and dried blood, the dolls former elegance had disappeared and you couldn’t tell, by looking at it, the fine, expensive materials used to make it.
“This place sucks.” Janet said, tossing a small gem, that she found at the top of the altar, up and down in her hand. “I wanna find a place with some real vampire culture, not this dump. Let’s get out of here. Where the hell is that dunpeal hunter?”
“D, we’re leaving.” The symbiote said peeking through the opening in the shack. “What are you doing?”
The dunpeal curled his fingers around the small object, then gently placed it in his pocket.
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It was dark. Too dark. Dark enough so that Dina couldn’t see, even with her nocturnal vision. She had woken up here, in this pit of darkness. Even as her eyes illuminated green, she could see little more then her pale hand in front of her face. Her head ached, her throat was dry, her eyes burned. How she got here, she did not remember.
She was lying on her back when she woke up. Dazed and confused, she sat up. Almost immediately, she clawed at her waist for a weapon, but found nothing. She had been stripped of everything, including her clothes, and much of her body was wrapped in a gauze-like material, though she apparently had no wounds.
“...Where...?” She whispered to herself, bringing her knees up to her chin. Her muscles ached and felt weakened with the movement. The dunpealess scratched her arm and felt small lumps under her fingertips. The tips of needles, coated with vile, noxious chemicals, left itching and burning spots where they had been inserted. She had been drugged with strange toxins and now she sat there in the dark... alone and afraid with no idea of what would happen to her next.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“That... was the lamest campfire story I have ever heard.” Erin said, glaring at Brock from across the fire pit, with mouth full of their dinner, which consisted of some fish from a near by river, which Adelio had concluded were safe to eat. For their journey, they only brought a little bit of food. So, along with being their translator, Adelio was also an expert when it came to surviving in the wilderness.
“Then you think of one.” Brock said, frowning at her.
Night had fallen and they had set up their camp in the middle of a small clearing, with tents and a small campfire. Some were asleep, while others were still awake. Janet and Tabitha had decided to get an early night, along with the diggers, who were quite worn out already. The rest were sitting by the campfire.
“Anyone can come up with something better then that.”
“Then let’s see you try.”
D was sitting on a stump near by. His eyes shifted as he watched Slade sneak away into the woods, unnoticed as the others argued on. The hunter stood and followed, his presence not being regarded either. There was something he wanted to know.