83 The Unsealing*
He'd nearly been dying of anticipation. The power had built within him for over a fortnight, and finally, finally, he felt himself nearing the end of his wait.
Rassa allowed a grin to adorn his face in the silent darkness of his cell. Though it was not one of happiness. No, this grin was malicious, dark and hungry. He could feel all that power ready to break out, and for the world to bow down at his feet. He was the bringer of darkness and death, and he would act upon it. Rassa took a deep breath in, and he felt the flickering within his soul make a small appearance.
"It is time, Rassa. You will be a fledgling no longer," Victor stated, "You have learned all you can from those who came long before you. Do not waste this knowledge. Do not devastate our memory. You are the end of the old and the beginning of the new. The bringer of death and new life. The Mist blesses you and the Chaos you can and will unleash upon the world. Reinstate the rightful balance, move this world forward. Take what is yours".
Rassa's eyes flicked open as he looked up at his cell door, taking a deep breath in and releasing it, then reaching for the power dwelling in his soul, his intentions darker than Victor had ever witnessed from the boy before, "You don't have to tell me twice".
Rassa thought he felt Victor's fear then. Though it can't have been, Victor didn't feel fear. Rassa grabbed Victor's soul, along with the souls of every Vampire that had died with the heir of Star Crash and been waiting more than a thousand years for Rassa in that dark cave. Then Rassa did something he hadn't been told to do, something that truly did scare all of them.
Rassa took their souls, and forced them to become a part of his own.
He had no need of their knowledge, he had been taught it all over the years anyway. Instead he took their power. Their souls were torn to pieces, and Rassa felt it as their thousands of individual gifts and abilities as vampires were added to his own. They enhanced him, nourished him, and in the end, his soul burst open. The dam broke, and he was filled with raw power. His Life Lines sent a dark red glow through his cell and he felt the instant access to the Mist and all it offered at his fingertips. He felt it's happiness, it's welcome of him. It was happy to have somebody to correct the balance that had been too far on the side of Order for too long. Finally, Chaos had reawakened in full.
Rassa did not disappoint it.
He drew on its influence with his Life Lines, the feeling all too natural, and felt his body melt into the shadows around him. The chains fell to the ground and then Rassa appeared once more on the outside of the cell, his body melding itself back into place. Rassa shifted his neck around, tensing and relaxing his muscles as he felt his body clearly for the first time in years. The power welling beneath the surface was astronomical compared to what it had been when he was a fledgling, and it was still gushing out. He understood why the others had sealed this power, as a child, he would not have been able to stand it.
Rassa looked at his hands, grime and filth marring his pale skin, he curled his lip up in disgust. He needed a bath.
Rassa's eyes turned to the dark tunnel, a faint light at the far end indicating where a guard stood at the secondary gate that had been made.
Rassa stepped forward, shifting into his enhanced speed seamlessly before he stopped right before the gate. He could just meld right through it like he had before, but he should test some other abilities as well.
The guard, who had been pacing, turned and spotted Rassa, gasping out in surprise. Clearly he hadn't heard the chains drop earlier, or he hadn't thought anything of it.
The Guard went to turn, but met Rassa's gaze and froze his expression turning blank as Rassa delved into his mind. He could feel the guard's fear, his desire, and everything in between. Rassa thought of delving deeper, but not yet, he was hungry.
"I really would love some fresh air, would you be a friend and open the door?" asked Rassa.
To the guard, his voice sounded melodic, serene, and by far the most convincing tone he'd ever heard. The Guard didn't even hesitate to follow the request, he withdrew the key from his pocket and inserted it into the gate, then opened it wide. Rassa stepped through.
"So helpful, almost makes me regretful in doing this," Rassa said, he took the guard's head in his hand and brought the guard close enough to sink his fangs into the guard's neck.
He drank deep gulps of blood, savouring the taste of a decent meal. Then the guard dropped to the ground, and Rassa looked down at the dead body by his feet.
"Almost, but not really," Rassa said, "After all, what prisoner would feel regret in killing his guard to get free?"
Rassa's eyes turned to the Guard's clothes, then down at his naked self. His lip turned up in disgust again.
"I hope someone in this dump has some decent material to wear. That and a tub to soak in," Rassa grumbled.
He stepped past the guard without taking his clothes. After all, everyone here was going to die anyway, it was not as if he cared if they saw him naked before that. To some, it might even be considered a gift.
Rassa stepped forward at a leisurely pace. He had all the time in the world. No need to rush this, better to savour his freedom and do as he pleased. Suddenly, he jolted a step, placing a hand against the wall of the tunnel to stabilise himself as he felt a severe pain in his back, right beneath the surface of his Life Lines.
Rassa groaned, a small part of him recognising the familiar pain. It wasn't much, but it was enough that Rassa didn't fight it. Not even when it tore through his skin and his dark blood dripped down his back. That feeling, that weight at his back. He'd felt it once before. A small turn of Rassa's head confirmed it. Two huge, bat-like wings that were dark as night except for the tips which were tinged a bright red, were dangling limply to the ground, as if they too were exhausted.
Covered in blood and muscle-matter, Rassa gritted his teeth as he stood, feeling them as they dragged along the ground.
"Well this is somewhat inconvenient," Rassa grumbled. His lessons with Victor had never really been on flight. He'd had one lesson. This was mostly because Vampires often didn't use their wings. Wings were a thing of the past, a symbol of cruder times. The only time one was guaranteed to see a Vampire with wings was when they were in battle.
Rassa cracked his neck and stretched out his back as it knitted itself back together, then concentrated on flexing the muscles in his wings. They were a part of him, like his arms and legs, there was no difficulty controlling them, but thanks to their newly awakened state, they were somewhat weak. After he managed to fold them closer to his body, and he felt the skin of his back heal over and his Life Lines reform, Rassa continued to step forward.
Back to the slaughter.