TANSTAV part 33

Chapter 9 part 4

Well, at least he was being honest with us.  But the fact that I would receive a commendation for contributing to this maniac's plan did not improve my morale, oddly enough.  Don't get me wrong, I'm sure some people find the prospect of having their life force drained in order to create a vampire a very intriguing, even enjoyable idea.  However, I have a low tolerance for having my life force drained, especially if its purpose is for ultimate world domination.  I'm just conservative like that.

Not only that, but I could see some extreme flaws in Fleming's plan.  And, feeling I had nothing to lose, I took the opportunity to point them out.

"...So, what happens when we run out of humans?"

Fleming frowned uncomprehendingly.

"Huh?"

"Well, according to the myths, humans are the natural food source of vampires.  If, as you say, you plan on turning the whole human race into vampires, then what are they supposed to eat?  I suppose they could feed on animals, but with that many of them in the world, and such a limited supply of animals to compensate, soon there'd be none left, and then they'd have to resort to us.  How well have you thought this through?  I mean, since you started this with the best interests of monsters at heart, to suddenly have your creations start depending on our blood to survive is kind of-"

"SHUT UP!" bellowed Fleming.  "I'll worry about that when the time comes!"

Which was code for, 'I haven't thought about that possibility, but there's no way I'm going to admit it to you, annoying person who just made me look stupid'.  I should know; I've used that code before.

It was at that point that I suddenly realized that the ropes, though unbreakable, were not un-slip-out-able.  I figured this out by the fact that as I was shifting my hands, I suddenly found that my left thumb was free.

This is great!

Taking the opportunity, I began working on wiggling the rest of my hand out too.  Meanwhile, Fleming made a gesture with the bandaged hand, wincing as he did so, and Jessup slowly went to his side.  He handed over the splatter gun, and at Fleming's command, he lay down on the altar, hands folded across his chest.  I almost felt sorry for him; he was about to be used to create a monster that would annihilate mankind, and he probably didn't even know what was happening.  Then I remembered what he had almost done to Xen, and my pity instantly subsided.  I went back to concentrating on freeing myself.

Over in the corner, Xen and Calla were not standing idly by, like you'd expect of damsels in distress (believe me, they are anything but).  They were standing back to back, and trying to untie each other.  Since nobody was taking any notice of them at the moment, now seemed as good a time as any.  Needless to say, I did not draw Fleming's attention to the situation.  Speak of the devil, he was now pulling a chain that opened a hole in his roof (with the ends of the lightning rods poking through), revealing that the storm had reached its height.

"Perfect conditions!" he cried enthusiastically.  "A storm with thunder and lightning, yet on a night when the moon is full!  An exact replication of the experiments of President Newman!  Now to charge the spell with lightning, add my modifications, and then it will begin!"

Carefully, he levitated the spell into the air, until it was directly below the hole.  Then there was a short wait, during which I was able to get my left hand all the way free.  After that, it was a simple matter of pulling the loop of rope off my right wrist.  But for the time being, just for a moment, I stayed where and how I was, with my hands behind me.  I was idly curious as to what would happen.

Finally, I heard the sharp retort of lightning striking the rods (Two bolts at once, in almost the same place?  That’s a coincidence that pretty much only ever occurs in the places where monsters live) and sizzling down, to hit the spell, which suddenly turned a brighter shade of green, and looked a lot healthier.  Without needing any assistance from Fleming, the ball of light zoomed down, and hovered over the recumbent Jessup.  Fleming stood by the altar's side, smiling with glee.  Calla, now free of her ropes, started forward, but Xen grabbed her and held her back.

"No!" I heard her cry over a roar of thunder.  "It could kill you if you went in there now!  It's never a good idea to enter a pentacle when a spell's taking place!"

"But what do we do?  He'll be killed!" Calla wailed.

Xen looked despairingly over at me.  To her evident surprise, I smiled at her, and mouthed the words, "It'll be fine!"  In all likelihood, she thought I was either trying to reassure her by lying through my teeth, or I had lost my mind.

The spell left the altar, and began circling the pentacle, testing it to make sure it was sound.  It zoomed around the five points of the star, skimming the ground once in a while, reveling in its new life-and then it stopped.  Fleming looked startled.  He made as if to approach-and, remembering where he was, froze.  He couldn't leave the pentagon that was the center of the star, because that would expose him to whatever damage the spell could inflict on him.  The spell in question was hovering tentatively over one particular spot on the pentacle; if it had been alive, and given to emotions, I would have said that it was perturbed.  If you looked closer, you would see why: there, marring the perfect chalk circle, were five drag marks, creating a small set of holes in the pentacle.

You forgot about my stumble earlier, didn't you?  Well, believe it or not, even with my hands tied, I'm not that clumsy when the situation is serious.  I'd remembered that you have to be careful with spells in pentacles; they are very delicate, and if the pentacles or spells are messed up even the tiniest bit, it can destroy the whole thing.  I've even heard horror stories of screwed-up spells in pentacles turning on those who cast them, and obliterating them into nasty, slimy blobs of goo.  While I didn't necessarily thoroughly wish that on Fleming, it would certainly make fixing this whole mess a lot easier.

Suddenly, the spell went berserk.  It began leaping and jumping around the room, smashing into the walls (because of the flaw in the pentacle, it could leave), smacking into the ceiling and floor, just hitting everything it could-though, unfortunately, missing both the insane mage and the demon, but fortunately missing me and my companions.  An utterly horrified Fleming tried to intervene, to use his magic to capture and subdue the spell, but to no avail.  Old and senile as it was, it had soon beat itself to pieces of residue, lying here and there throughout the room.  We all (except Jessup, who was still hypnotized) stared aghast at the remains of what had been one of the most controversial spells of our time.  My historian's heart bled for it, and asked President Newman to forgive me for this desecration (though his soul, may it rest in peace, probably rejoiced at the destruction of his great folly).

"How could this happen?!" howled Fleming, clutching his hands to his head, wincing with pain because it involved moving his damaged arm and shoulder.  "How?!  What did I-"

He stopped, as his bulging eyes noticed the dragged-through part of the pentacle.  Suddenly looking a little murderous, he turned to me, and looked down, seeing the white dusting of chalk on the claws of my left foot.

I shrugged and gave a sort of grin.

"Oops."

Fleming was not appeased.

"YOU!" he screeched.  "YOU FILTHY, DESTRUCTIVE, SPELL-WRECKING _________________ INTERFERING ______________ LOUSY__________ SON OF ___!"

A lot of the vile epithets he cried out are ones I would rather not repeat.  Let us just leave it at the fact that they were mostly very opprobrious remarks, some of which were not particularly realistic or anatomically possible.  I noticed Calla wincing and covering her ears.  Good, she was far too young to be hearing that kind of language.  In fact, it was stuff that nobody should ever have to hear.  I think it was about then that Fleming grabbed up one of the splatter guns and shot me.