“You said he was a small, fat man in a suit? Tell me, was he mostly bald?” I asked out of curiosity.

  “Yes,” the vampire said.

  “With a moustache, and gold edging on his suit lapels?”

  “Yes,” the vampire said, looking more confused. “Do you know him?”

  “Of course I do. Everyone does - that man was the mayor,” I declared. “To be honest, I’m rather surprised to hear you met him - after all, he did die… recently…”

  I trailed off, and looked at the vampire, my face unamused. “Wait a moment here. You said you met him… At the stock market… No, it couldn’t be. Could it?”

  The vampire shrugged, not understanding what I was asking.

  By now the slightest edge of dawn was beginning to show on the horizon, the golden lady leading forth the sun’s rays.

  “How long ago did you say all this was?” I asked suspiciously. I’d been under the impression that the vampire was telling me a tale of long ago - of his glory days, back when he was a young lad - but now it occurred to me that he had never given me any dates, and that the vampire, undead as he was, had an ageless appearance which could have been twenty or two hundred.

  “Oh, only about two weeks back,” the vampire commented. I spit blood.

  Before I could ask anything else, however, there was more banging on the gate, accompanied by sharp staccato barks that could have been the police or could have been something more serious.

  “Ah, and we were so close to the end of the story, too,” the vampire sadly observed, and then immediately brightened up. “Ah! Perchance we are close enough that I can finish it before whoever that is interrupts us irretrievably.”

  ***

  It was with almost idle ease that I crushed the metal skull of the dean, breaking it apart in my furious desire to see the man before me dealt with.

  I could see little of his face under the cowl, but I could almost swear I saw a smirk, or perhaps just a smile, for he then bowed. “I do not know to whom I have the pleasure of addressing, but may I just say, it is an honour. Truly. Frankly, I was beginning to despair that there would be no one to entertain me as I transformed society, no one who could offer a token’s resistance as I birthed the new world. That it is someone whose existence is a mere conceptual illusion makes it all the more ironic.”

  I returned the bow - it was only polite. “This ‘mere conceptual illusion’ greets you kindly, even if he intends to leave with your head, and nothing else of your body.”

  The man once more laughed. The glyphs lining his brown robe began to glow, their owner drifting into the air, and I realised who it was who had taught magic to the corpse thieves.

  “Perhaps it is fitting,” he remarked casually, almost to himself. “I began this project so long ago - longer than any knows - to rid the human world of that dreadful concern with essence, and free it of its feelings and thoughts so that it could evolve into pure and effective action. Now, on the cusp of my success, the one who chooses to confront me is the very essence of that which I desire to supplant - a flickering, half-true thing, that should be not, and yet is seen as if it were more real than reality. What a portent.”

  “It is an honour. I cannot quite say what I portend, and must confess I do not quite understand you; still, though I am dead, I will bring a vivacious end to your tale,” I snarked.

  Then, the pleasantries dealt with, we decided to exchange words in the proper manner, as scholars should - which is to say, we settled things like men.

  Chains of lightning flickered into being around the man, coming into and out of existence amid a gathering storm. Slowly they took the form of seals, complex glyphs manifesting in a web around the cabin, before with a thunderous roar the lightning rushed through them and towards me.

  I stepped into the lightning, muttering an old alchemical oath under the breath, and then I pulled at the air about me. The lightning flowed along it and around me, destroying the floor and walls and ripping apart the boardroom.

  The portly gentleman squealed and ran about, seeking for an exit. It was a vain search - there was no way out save through the elevator, which was now broken - and one which he was fortunately liberated from continuing, as the cloaked figure liberated him from the burden of existence not even a moment later, lightning ripping apart his body and turning it to ash.

  “It is best to replace a broken part,” the cloaked figure said simply.

  I grimaced at the sight, then skilfully wove out of the way as another bolt passed me by. I caught the very tail of the lightning, dragging it forth before it hit the wall. I muttered a brief chant, swirling the lightning in my hands, and launched it like a lasso at the cowled figure. He sought in vain to dodge, tripping in midair as it wrapped about his feet, and I brought him down to earth with a thud.

  He slapped both hands on the ground, a stream of putrid yellow light pouring out in rivers from his fingertips. The nauseating streams of light flowed towards me, the very earth crying as they passed.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  It was an unwise decision on his part. Had I been a lesser scholar, unversed in alchemical lore, I should have been quite incapable of undoing his spell, and the foul liquid - intended to affect my dissolution - would swiftly have seen me liquified. As it was I merely stamped my foot, intoning an ancient invocation, and coagulated his ferment.

  Acrid smoke filled the air, the bitter tang making his eyes sting and my throat itch, and a scent like rotting dragon swirled all around. I tightened my grip on the lightning bolt and yanked, sending the cloaked figure sprawling across the room.

  His head banged on the floor and against one of the control tables for the beast, at which point he wrapped his arms around it and pulled. I held firm for a moment, but the man - if man he was - was stronger than I was, and I was eventually dragged towards him.

  He and I met near the wheel controlling the beast, the cloaked figure clinging to the wheel. Giving up on any attempt at wrestling my foe, I let go of the lightning at the last moment - the bolt snapping towards him - and stepped in to deliver a sudden thrust to his jaw, knocking him back. His cowl fell back, off his head.

  There was no face for me to gaze upon, no visage for me to contemplate. Nor, for that matter, was there quite an absence, the void of the figure’s form defying description. I could hear the grin in his voice as he leaned in, and hissed, “I am nothing - its lack, its possibility, its power and potency.”

  ***

  We had not yet reached the graveyard gates when a gunshot interrupted the vampire’s tale, the unnamed occupants at the gate deciding to take matters into their own hands. The bootsteps of a half dozen men could be heard, alongside continuing commands, as they charged into the graveyard.

  “This just got more complex, didn’t it?” I muttered.

  “Yup,” concurred the vampire. “Might want to get Anselm. And perhaps Crusty.”

  And, as the mysterious interlopers ran towards us, we ran in the opposite direction, the vampire hurriedly trying to finish his narrative.

  ***

  The cloaked figure brought his hands up, desiccated hands grasping me like a steel vice. I struggled to pull back, but found myself incapable of breaking free, and the mocking laughs of the man reverberated through my skull as he drew me close. An immense maw opened in midair, snapping open and closed.

  And then I stabbed him with my invisible sword.

  I had carried it all through all my adventures, never once finding a use for the unwieldy weapon, and had only pulled it off my back for the first time when the cloaked figure began to pull the lightning bolt towards him, and I realised that he was stronger than me.

  I had it slung low as I punched him then, when he attempted to draw me in, brought it up in a sudden thrust, running the figure through and impaling him to the steering wheel. The beast plunged to the side as the automatic steering jammed, veering off course.

  I stumbled and nearly fell as it swung to the side, my skewered foe bursting into laughter. “Well played, well played. Oh, maybe I was wrong - maybe it needs to be fun, needs an ounce of thrill, to be truly worthwhile.”

  I made no reply to this inane remark, holding on as the beast screeched and barreled towards the university.

  “Yes, yes, a bit of thrill - but there can be no euphoria outside of the shipwreck itself, you know. I won’t allow it.” And he laughed again. “It would ruin the paucity of anything if there were something.”

  And then he choked off, blood splattering across the floor.

  The stock market crashed, hitting the university with a thunderous blow. It was levelled almost immediately, the immense mechanical beetle tromping it flat like so much feeble cardboard. I flew backwards, only just barely keeping myself from flying into the elevator shaft when I caught onto a guardrail.

  “I believe that’s it for this particular endeavour,” the nameless man said, and I could almost swear his faceless form smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

  And he slumped down against the steering wheel, dead.

  Meanwhile the stock market had finished turning the university to paste. Its front legs were barely working, and there were cracks all across its back. It was clearly slowing, but still chugging forwards as it barreled across the park towards a nearby skyscraper.

  Realising that it was high time for me to high tail it out of there I let go of the guardrail, flying back and into the elevator, using the force of the beast to make my descent a work of mere moments.

  In the last several seconds I stuck my claws into the shaft walls, slowing my speed until I landed with nary a bump.

  The ground floor was nearly empty, save for dozens of destroyed academics and policemen; and nearby, I could see the last of the menagerie leaving out the only door, a very satisfied princess directing them out.

  I grabbed her by the hand, said “we got to go,” and before she could ask “why” leapt out the door.

  We hit the ground and rolled, only moments before the stock market crashed into Smithers, Inc. The front of the beetle detonated, as did the building, going up in flame in a series of explosions. Not having any time to run I used the last of my power to invoke a shield, bits of building and charred directors falling about us.

  ***

  “Wait, hold on just a minute - did you say that you’re the reason I’m unemployed?”

  “No,” said the vampire merrily. “I’m the reason you were unemployed. But if it weren’t for the likes of me, you wouldn’t have a job now, so really I think you ought to be thankful.”

  And then the vampire pushed my head down, half a moment before a spray of bullets turned the tree in front of me into a pincushion.

  “But I believe we may have more pressing problems,” he continued, equally merrily, as an entire shock team poured out of the woods behind us. I didn’t recognise the insignias on their shoulders, although I had no doubt what their firearms were intended to do.

  “But wait,” I hissed as we fell back into a dip in the earth, the vampire passing me a spare pistol. “You said all this was a mere two weeks ago. So what happened since? Did you confirm the extent of the cloaked figure’s plans, or if he had any co-conspirators? Was the Man in the Moon informed of these developments? And what of your bet?”

  “We took out the intellectual linchpin of the project; in respect to any conspirators of his, I believe you see them before you. And as far as my bet is concerned,” and here the vampire slapped me on the shoulder. “I believe I’ve resolved it to my satisfaction.”

  “But then how does the story end?” I snapped.

  “Hmmm? Who said the story was over? That’s the best part of lifelike stories, you know; you never can quite tell what will come next.”

  THE END