11 – Dinner with a Vampire

The chicken did not survive the night. It had been docile enough while I picked it up and brought it close to my face. That only changed when I bit it in the wing through the feathers, but then it was too late.

Surprisingly, I had actually managed to stop drinking. Unfortunately for the feathered creature, that had been when there was only about a mouthful of blood left in its body, so it had promptly fallen unconscious and died within half a minute. It had not, against my expectations, gotten back up as either a vampire chicken or any kind of undead thrall.

What had happened, to my bafflement and delight, was the puncture wounds left by my fangs healing within seconds of leaving my mouth. Even as the bird they were attached to was in the process of rapidly expiring.

Aside from the bird being dead, there was no sign left of anything happening to it. Besides it dying of blood loss, obviously. At least there was no sign of what caused the very obvious lethal blood loss.

What remained of the blood was currently drying in a shallow bowl next to me as I sat at the dining table, waiting. It barely coated the bottom. Loath as I was to waste blood, this was another test. Not that this tiny amount would have made a difference.

The sensation I would’ve described as ‘drizzling onto parched ground’ had happened again with the second chicken. Only that this time, I had paid more attention to what happened afterward.

I had wondered what my body was doing with all the blood, since I couldn’t – or rather didn’t want to – believe this was my normal consumption rate.

It turned out my suspicion of this being abnormal was most likely correct. To continue with my rain analogy, the blood was seeping into the ‘soil’. It barely made it to my veins before it was absorbed by my body. Even in my limited awareness of my internal bodily processes, I was minutely better in some way afterwards.

A new theory was growing around this peculiar sensation – I’m not completely transformed. I’m still in a growing phase.

There wasn’t a noticeable change on the macro scale. So far anyway. I didn’t feel any different compared to yesterday evening, aside from the hunger.

So either the continuing transformation was really slow, affected some non-obvious or esoteric factor, or I just hadn’t tested my new body enough to find the effects yet.

It wasn’t like I could casually tell whether my super strength allowed me to lift one hundred or one hundred and ten kilos without testing. Tests I couldn’t easily do without raising all kinds of suspicions.

Either way, I was torn on the issue.

Obviously it was great for me to become even stronger than I already was. This wasn’t a relatively peaceful world, like Earth had been when I died. Actually, I was stabbed to death, so that’s not the best comparison… ahem.

Getting back on track, this world had magic, demons, knights with strengthened bodies and actual miracles. And that was just what I’d personally experienced in my short time so far.

Kalin knew of monsters infesting the nearby forest. In particularly bad winters, they sometimes even approached the town. This really was a place at the edge of nowhere.

At least it was unlikely I’d have to deal with war. The remote location meant we didn’t border any other countries, even though the town lay at the edge of the kingdom. Perks of living next to a monster-filled, primal forest, I guess.

Basically, becoming stronger was great.

On the other hand, it was a massive drain on my blood reserves. I had no idea when it would end either. I couldn’t just sit around hemorrhaging – ha! – blood forever. I couldn’t replenish it quickly enough right now.

So, I had figured out how to stop the process for now. It wasn’t even that hard, once I noticed. A lot like suppressing my faster, blood-consuming healing.

My hunger hadn’t grown in between early afternoon and now – near dinner time – so I was calling this a success. I’d also tested turning the enhancement process back on again and it was effortless. Less effort than suppressing it anyway.

So, here I sat, waiting on Lars and dinner to arrive.

Obviously, a vampire inviting a human to dinner might invoke some unwholesome ideas. Equally obviously, I wasn’t planning on drinking Lars. If I even could. I was still unsure how our strength compared. Leaving aside the physical aspects, I had absolutely no combat training whatsoever, neither from my life on Earth nor from Kalin’s memories.

When I could hear his steady, thrumming heart move away from the tower, leaving the guard position to a quartet of guards instead, I grabbed my blood bowl.

The dried blood wasn’t appealing, though more so than when I was a human. Big surprise.

I licked it.

To my mild surprise, the hard, flaky substance practically melted on contact with my saliva. After only two licks, the bowl was spotless. Something that resembled liquid blood more than I thought it should went down my throat.

It was almost completely tasteless. The barest hint of chicken clung to the back of my mouth for a moment before fading away.

My hunger abated the tiniest bit.

Hmm. So old blood isn’t worthless then. Good to know. Blood sausage is likely also edible then.

I idly wondered whether I could get food poisoning from improperly handled blood. The demon had claimed I was immune to mundane diseases, but what about poison?

Actually, with how my body appeared to not actually metabolize any food I ate, was I just immune to food-based poison altogether? Something I would have to test – carefully – at a later time.

Although…

There was one ‘poison’ I could test right now, at dinner, without garnering any suspicion.

I greeted Lars as he arrived and took his prepared seat.

As the lord of this manor, I sat at the head of the table. Lars was positioned to my right. Another spot to my left was set as well. Lars raised an eyebrow when he saw it.

Officially, Lars was the only person of a high enough rank to eat at the same table as me in this place. He was a minor noble due to his status as a knight. Even the steward appointed by the family was in the end just a servant.

The only other person, actually the only person Kalin would regularly eat with was lying dead on the side tower’s third floor.

Lars was not someone Kalin regularly interacted much with. This was owed to multiple factors, not limited to suspicion about Lars’ allegiance. Kalin was also – among other things – jealous of the other man’s strength and healthy body.

Needless to say, an extra set of utensils with no noble guests was weird. It went against social customs.

Still, the raised eyebrow was the only comment Lars made.

A minute of silence later, Mia entered carrying a tray of food. She’d decided to turn part of the two chickens into a rich, creamy soup as the starter. My improved sense of smell was working overtime. It even overpowered the smell of Lars’ blood for a little bit.

After she’d placed down the three plates, I waved Mia over and whispered in her ear. She left the room again.

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When she returned, Mia was carrying a dark glass bottle. One of Kalin’s favorite vices was alcohol. He’d spent a not insignificant portion of the last five years drunk. Of course the manor would be well stocked with various drink.

And alcohol was technically a poison. Just because many people drank it voluntarily didn’t change the fact it had various negative effects in large quantities.

So, I could work on my ‘Kalin guise’ and test my susceptibility to ingested poison at the same time. Win-win.

At my behest, Mia poured three glasses, one for each occupied spot. After she passed them out, she stood to the side and slightly behind my chair.

Lars’ eyes had been alternating between the empty seat and me.

“So, who’s the other guest?” he asked as he swirled his wine.

“She’s here. Sit down already. The food is getting cold.” I rolled my eyes at Mia with a smile.

““What?”” Two voices overlapped.

Mia was trying to gesture something at me with her eyes. I assumed she was unsure about sitting with me with Lars present. Lars’ eyebrows were steadily rising as he looked between the two of us.

Finally, Mia relented and sat down. I raised my glass in a toast and the other two hesitantly followed.

The wine was good, as far as my limited experience with such things went. I assumed my enhanced senses improved the flavor’s richness. It was less bitter than I remembered alcohol being. Different taste buds maybe?

After a small sip of his own drink, Lars locked his eyes on me.

“Did I miss something important? Not to be impudent, but you know this isn’t proper, right? Lord Steelheart?”