The Shadows of Blood Madness

Bowen's heart pounded as he raced through the dark forest, the heavy footfalls of Rektar close behind. The twisted branches and dense undergrowth seemed to conspire against him, slowing his escape. He could hear Rektar's snarls, a terrifying reminder of what his head captain had become.

"Master Bowen, come back here!" Rektar's voice was guttural, laced with an animalistic fury. "You cannot escape from me!"

Bowen's breath came in ragged gasps as he glanced back, seeing the blood-mad vampire's eyes gleaming with evil hunger. Rektar's fangs were bared, ready to tear into flesh.

Desperation surged through Bowen. He skidded to a halt and turned, his hand reaching for the dagger at his belt. As Rektar lunged, Bowen drove the blade into his chest with a swift, practiced motion.

Rektar's momentum carried him forward, but the force of the blow stopped him in his tracks. He staggered, falling to his knees, his face contorted with pain and confusion.

"Why did you kill me?" Rektar gasped, blood trickling from his lips. "All my life, I was loyal to you, I did all I could to serve you, my lord."

Bowen's heart shattered at the sight. He knelt beside Rektar, his hands trembling. "I'm sorry, Rektar!" he whispered, tears mingling with the rain that began to fall. "I had no choice."

Rektar's eyes dimmed, and his body went limp. Bowen screamed, a sound of anguish that echoed in the forest.

Suddenly, Bowen was jolted awake by the harsh clang of a bell ringing. He sat up in bed, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving. It was a nightmare, but the pain in his heart was all too real. The memories of Rektar's death haunted him.

He rubbed his eyes and looked around, realizing the bell was summoning him to an urgent meeting. He quickly dressed and left his chambers, the echoes of the nightmare lingering in his mind.

As he descended the staircase to the main hall, Bowen couldn't shake the feeling of dread. He entered the dimly lit room to find his brothers gathered somberly around the table, their expressions etched with concern.

"Let this be good news," Bowen's voice echoed against the stone walls, his eyes scanning each face for a hint of reassurance. Since the passing of Rektar, the atmosphere within the castle had been heavy with grief and suspicion.

"I'm afraid it is far from good, my lord," Gerard's voice cut through the silence. His tone was grave, his gaze fixed on Bowen.

"Get to the point," Dominic interjected, his impatience evident.

Gerard continued, his words weighted with dread. "The incidents of blood madness among vampires have surged. We've counted over a hundred cases, and there are reports of grisly deaths attributed to these mad vampires."

Bowen's mind raced. If Rektar had succumbed to blood madness, it wasn't surprising that others would follow suit.

"Someone must have brought satooris into the city," Pristine interjected, his voice laced with accusation. Satooris, bat-like demons from the lower planes, were known carriers of blood madness. Their bites could kill lesser beings but turned vampires into raving beasts.

"Someone powerful enough to control a satooris," Gerard added grimly. "We're facing a foe with knowledge and malice."

"Where do we begin?" Dominic's voice held a note of urgency. The enemy could be anyone—an outsider, a disgruntled ally, or even a native harboring ancient grievances against us.

"It must be someone who harbors hatred for our kind," Bowen reasoned aloud, his mind sifting through possibilities. "Perhaps a descendant of the ancient tribes who once inhabited these lands?"

"All those tribes are long gone," Pristine countered. "But humans pass down stories through generations. Hatred could linger."

Bowen's piercing gaze swept across the room, his mind already calculating the next steps. "We're searching for a human, but not just any human—one with enough magical prowess to control a satooris," he declared.

"Don't forget," Dominic interjected, "elves and nymphs have coexisted peacefully with humans for centuries. They possess their own powerful magic."

Bowen's brow furrowed in contemplation. "So, we need to find a creature who could be human, elf, or nymph. But we can't simply round them up and torture them for answers—that would only drive the culprit into hiding. Once the dust settles, they'd emerge to wreak even more havoc."

Pristine leaned forward, a sly smile playing on his lips. "You propose we disguise ourselves, infiltrate their communities, and gather information covertly, don't you?"

Bowen sighed, nodding reluctantly. "Someone will volunteer for this mission, they will disguise themselves as a human. The north of the city is where the victims have been found, and Rektar's family still resides there. He was visiting them when he encountered the satooris and its controller."

"Sending someone else isn't an option," Gerard countered. "Our people are at risk. We need to act quickly to prevent further infections."

Bowen's eyes hardened with resolve. "Then you will go yourself, Gerard. Find the controller and stop them before they can inflict more damage."

A sudden knock interrupted their discussion. A guard entered, dropping to one knee before Bowen, his sword laid respectfully on the ground. "Master Bowen, I bring urgent news."

"Rise and speak," Bowen commanded, a sense of foreboding washing over him.

"The controller has struck again," the guard reported. "Thirty vampires have succumbed to blood madness, and several dozen more are missing."

Bowen's fury erupted. He slammed his fist onto the table, splintering the wood with a resounding crack. "Damn that fool!"