Philosophy Of Nothing Much

This peasant was surprisingly easy to follow. He walked forward with a bag slung over his back through the forest, following a path that seemed to have been trodden down by feet long ago. It might have helped that her nose was, as it had been most of the night, hyper aware and active. Every so often he would stop at one of those buildings, like the ones she had woken up in before, and leave something in them. Afterwards she would check and continue following.

So far nothing valuable had come of this, the only notable thing really was the discovery of how common these houses were. She didn't really have any idea what they could have been for, just that they all had that slab and a cheap desk. Every so often the man stopped and wrote down something on the desks in some dust from his bag. Just a symbol: a few lines inside a circle. Honestly she didn't really know what to think of this all and was just hoping he wouldn't turn around at any point and notice her.

Eventually, by what her phone told her was most likely afternoon by its last recognized time zone, though was clearly night, they reached something new. In front of them now was a cliff-face. Some face was crudely carved into it from what she could see, with much detail given to the mouth.

"I was told about you," She stopped in her steps now, the man turned around and spoke directly at her. Again much like the mouthy speech of the modern-day the speech of this peasant has been translated for your convenience. It would have used many archaic words and odd accentuation otherwise. It took a minute for her to even realize what the guy said.

"Are you one who does not believe?" He sounded angry. He pointed a dagger, much like the one the last peasant had slashed her with, at her.

Confused she looked at him and replied, "I don't even know what you-"

He interrupted her now, "Only a monster would not understand," and rushed at her. Honestly she thought that was a bit racist. She had been called that before, but never right before being ran at with a weapon. Then again most modern-day sentient beings weren't exactly fans of jail time. She tried to duck out of the way, more a flop away from the man than a proper dodge.

The issue with this however was that she fell to the ground, before she could get up the man had turned and ran at her again, stabbing into her arm with a great force before pulling it out. Her vision began to fill with red, more a light layer now. In a panic she tried what she had the night before and threw the now leaking blood at the man.

Let it be known that there are two ways a vampire who can use blood magic can give such an attack more power, ignoring things like skill. High volume or being in danger. This was a moment of the latter. And so unlike ever before she threw the liquid with such a force that the man was thrown back. Afterwards she l.i.c.k.i.n.g the wound closed.

The dagger he was holding had flown out of his hands, landing near her. At first she had started to run before she noticed this. At the same time the man wasn't trying to get it back. He was now crawling over to the face in the wall, clutching one side. She grabbed it and ran over to the man. She had no intention of hurting him, even if he had made matters worse that still felt wrong. No instead she pointed it at him, trying to be a threatening as possible though the shaking didn't help.

She asked simply, "Why did you do this," pointing to where he had stabbed, a now sealed and scarred hole. He looked concerned. Maybe he thought she was toying with him and planned to get vengeance. He may of thought that someone who had just been stabbed would be a bit more angry if they asked anything at all. Maybe he just had no intention of saying anything to a 'monster' even if it meant death.

In her mind though it wasn't that big a deal however. Closer in action to knocking someone's lunch out of their hands or maybe disgusting them and causing them to vomit. It didn't hurt, cuts never did. It had just aggravated prior issues really. She had to admit, if only to herself, that her vision had never filled with red before. She remembered they had told her in school that if that ever happened to report it to an a.d.u.l.t... later the police. It was an effect of starvation.

He interrupted that thought, "The pilgrimage," He pointed to the face on the wall before gripping his side again, "I must finish the pilgrimage, you came to stop me right? To take me for," He shook his head and fell silent. This was, if she had to guess, a huge misunderstanding.

This time it was something else that interrupted her thoughts. For a moment a figure filled her vision. It was best described as the image of herself passing and moving its mouth in a blurred way. It said no words but its argument was clear. It had stated that if anything were to happen to this man no one know. It continued by stating that this man owed her at least what he had made her waste. It concluded by suggesting spots of insertion...

A new fluid left her mouth for a moment but she ignored it as best she could, continuing to talk, "No I was just seeing where you went... I'm new here in tow... vill... forest?" again the man looked concerned, this time in less of a "I am dead" way and more in a "What weird forest hermit have I found" way

"um uh... I can get you to there," She pointed at the wall nearby. She supposed he needed to do something at the wall, maybe touch it or leave an item at it or something. After that maybe she could get him to lead her to his town... she might need to carry him though. He simply nodded. He seemed to have accepted his fate even if he wasn't sure what his fate was. She got closer, ready to carry/ drag him over to the face, before stopping. That image passed her face again, this time its message was louder but the message was the same. She pulled back.

The whole time she had been close to or talking with this man after her vision shifted she had been hearing something faint. A small sound similar to a clock which some part of her wanted to get near. It got louder the closer she was to this man. When she had about picked him up however its nature had become apparent, it was a heart beating. She stuffed her fingers into her ears but it didn't help any.

At this point about five minutes passed. Though it would seem silent to any outside observer in the minds of those stuck in it this was deafeningly loud. In the man's mind it was variations of three questions. What would this strange thing do to him? Why was it not doing those things now? Would it keep its word? Every so often he came to a conclusion, all bad.

In hers it felt more like an hour. A conflict of morals and a state of sensory overload. She kept passing her own vision, stating without stating 'her' argument, and then making her smell stronger. That smell was focused entirely on the person in front of her, doing its best to dehumanize them. Finally she came to a conclusion.

She bit down firmly on her own tongue, holding her mouth closed tight. Quickly she grabbed the man by the shoulders and dragged him over to the wall. He protested a little but she didn't hear any of it. Her vision was still censored and all she heard was that argument. The blood that was rapidly filling her mouth however distracted her nose and so she was entirely unaware that the thing she was dragging was what had caused this mess. And in this way they reached the wall that was a mere yard away.

She swallowed hard now and ran a bit away from him. Her tongue sealed itself as soon as she had swallowed and the smell returned, but this distance made the other symptoms stop for now. Before she could say anything to the man however he grabbed onto the mouth of the wall and began to pull himself into it. She had not noticed it but the mouth of the face was actually a hole... it seemed to go on for at least far enough for a man to climb in.

He pulled himself in fully and disappeared from view, fell it looked like. She was still holding his dagger and walked over to the hole now. It smelled nice. This meant of course that it was not a good thing and that man was, at best, not long for this world. She passed her vision again, this time however the message was different. It amounted to the words, "what a waste"

She didn't exactly know what to say to that. That she had thought it meant that at least some part of her was enough of a monster to agree with it. At the same time she agreed in a way, this man had done something that was mad to her, but he had made that choice himself and as far as she knew would have done that even if she wasn't here. Morally, however, she felt a bit sad and disappointed she had assisted in this and felt a bit ill.

She turned around, away from the rock, and walked back the way she had come.

* * *

It was about 3pm Back home, and if the moon was any indication she had at best a few more hours till she needed to duck into one of these houses and hide for the night. By this point any illness that had struck her was gone enough that the hunger could fill its place. She was seeing red again. This did not mean she didn't still feel guilty however.

She could smell the animals of the forest now. It was a bit strange really. She knew that, if needed, she could drink the blood of animals, but it didn't appeal to her at all. If she had heard right in school there was a food pyramid of sorts vampires all followed. At the top was the blood of sentient things, of which the amount needed to kill a single human needed to be consumed at least weekly. An alternative was animal blood which was only a tenth as effective. Oddly enough one could survive off meat if needed, but that was even less effective, about a hundredth. Finally any other food stuff, which had only a thousandth of the effect and tasted horrible.

To further complicate matters if they were of her species then the requirements were doubled and one could not eat anything that had not come from an animal. When she first heard that she wondered what that meant exactly. Now she knew that it meant a high chance of hunger induced hallucinations and an empty wallet. It also meant that she was, guilt freely, wondering if she could catch any of the things she smelt now.

This was interrupted when she smelt something human-like down the road. Not wanting a repeat of earlier she ducked now into a nearby bush. She hoped that whoever it was would think it was some big animal. They walked by now, it was the same man as yesterday. He, unlike yesterday, seemed pleased. He happily whistled some tune as he walked forward.

She half considered jumping out of the bush and giving the man a scare. There was no good reason to and the thought came from the same place as the animal thought but it came to mind. She had partially lost it at this point. If she got back to her apartment she was drinking some substitute, if only so she could work the next day.

The man on the road stopped for a second, a few feet away from her bush. This had, in opposition to her not exactly decided on plan, spooked her a bit. He grabbed some bottle out of a pocket and opened it, waving it around a bit in the air. In that moment, for what seemed like a second all control was lost. When it returned however she was now out of the bush drinking something sweet from a bottle with a very confused peasant looking at her.

Let me tell you that this man, much like the man who had dedicated his life to crevice exploration, spoke with an accent. His accent was heavier, dropping the last letter from most words in such a way that a good lot of what he said took a moment to process. All the same it has been simplified here for your reading needs

He spoke now, "I had my suspicions you were one of them, but I didn't think you be here still, that dag..." and he stopped. She had in her moment of lost control used that dagger to break open the now empty bottle. Some of said bottles contents had dripped onto her chin and suggested she may be a messy eater.

Any calm he had before was gone now. He reached for the dagger he did not have. She began to wonder if she should look into knife fighting classes. She decided to try to play his fear, maybe she could find something out this time.

"So how did you make this," She had a few guesses. Most of them suggested to her a nose guard was in order, along with a blindfold and something noise canceling. The man looked around now, even if she was keeling he looked about ready to bolt. She had come to the conclusion that people in this time found vampires scary, which was expected. It was basically like finding a bear that wanted to eat you most of the time she had to assume.

"Maybe if you tell me I'll leave you be," She had a hard time not laughing at that one. She would leave him be even if he spat at her and she knew it. She had left him alone when he stabbed her, a fact her stomach was currently protesting for reasons beyond her. He was silent all the same. Maybe he was going with a living long enough to serve a use mentality?

In a moment of genius she remembered something. In the vampire religion of the modern-day it was common knowledge that their god could not lie if she gave a name. Even if vampires had no real names saying their most preferred nickname when swearing on something was considered to be saying you would keep your word regardless of the cost. Visa versa doing so on any other was basically crossing one's fingers. Even if this man wouldn't be convinced it was worth the chance, right?

And so she broke the silence for a third time, "I promise on my name, Iris,"

Finally he spoke after a bit more hesitation, "It's a monster distraction potion, made from blessed innocents blood," He went a bit pale at that last word. She had kinda figured it was something like that. Anything else would have been groundbreaking. She wasn't even all that mad there was nothing she could do now right?

Trying to play the villain a bit longer she asked, "So who's is it," her stomach added its own words. To better help you understand this realize that vampires of her kind essentially have stomach under all their skin, a sort of layer for storing excess for future use. This made the sound less of a low growl from a central place than a growl that seemed to leave the whole body.

She swore he was sweating when he answered, "m...m...me." She collapsed to the ground laughing. Something about the image of this man, who looked to be in his 30's or 40's being innocent in medieval times along with slight hunger induced craziness had left her in an uncontrollable state of laughter.

Of course the man she had been talking to did not feel like that. From his perspective he had stabbed an unholy creature with a holy blade a day ago. It had not only not died but came back and stole from his hand a blessed thing meant to dissolve these creatures if they drunk it while holding that blade. And yet still it sat there asking questions on how to get more as its body growled like some animal. Finally when it learned it began to unleash insane laughter. He ran screaming now, out of fear for his own life.

She didn't notice until he was so far away that all that remained of him was an odd ammonia-like smell. Honestly she was fine with that. It was time to find a house soon. And so she got off the ground and walked to the nearest one. Chuckling the whole way and wondering if that man try his 'warding potion' again in the future.

* * *

She woke under a desk. She was not 100% sure how this had came to occur as the last thing she had remembered from the day before was entering a building. It was some older looking desk, rather cheap too. Regardless here she was. It didn't help matters that she was still seeing red. She got up carefully only to see the slab of stone nearby, next to the modern apartment wall. Honestly she was glad to be home but she would have preferred to have fallen asleep on the slab.

She walked out into her living room now, well the empty room that could be considered a living room if it was full. Rushing to the fridge she pulled out a bottle of substitute and began to drink it. After drinking the foul think her vision cleared. That issue addressed she searched through her pockets.

After a minute or so she pulled out that dagger from yesterday. Looking at it now it was over decorated. Random ornate patterns lined it but what caught her eye was the design on the handle. On both sides a woman was depicted in the middle of a circle. Four more generic beings surrounded it. Honestly she half wanted to complete the design, half wanted to just get rid of it and be done with getting it inserted into her arm.

All the same she put it on the desk she had pulled through with her. It was time to get ready for work now, there were many pins to put into her dirty coat.