In the familiar nightmares of his daily coma, the unembalmed Grelcos floated in the depths of his somber, semi-conscious state.
Out of the infinite darkness of his undead sleep, a light bursts open. A flashlight. The shattering rays from the chrome metal tube held in the palm of your hand. You, the antique hunter, exploring the relics of this abandoned house attic, untouched for decades; carelessly flinging open the lid of this chest -- this coffin.
Grelcos opens his eyes, suddenly awake. The artificial light from your battery-operated flashlight intrudes into his dilated pupils, but it has no real effect. The darkness of the attic protects him from the sunlight outside. Irritated, he is startled by your intrusion, and clearly not amused by your clumsy attempt at a lullabye. On the other hand, he is aroused by the sight of you. Incredibly aroused...and thirsty.
Grelcos opens his eyes, suddenly awake. The artificial light from your battery-operated flashlight on the floor has no effect on him. The darkness of the attic protects him from the sunlight outside. But he is irritated, startled by your intrusion, and his retinal holes glare at you from his coffin home. In a single motion, the ageless Grelcos hurls himself out of his domain and lands upon the attic's floor planks, as you stare helplessly amidst the dust and scattered boxes surrounding you at his feet.
You hit the bottom of the stairs in a rush of pain, your head pounding in torrents of blind panic. Trapped in the small closet at the foot of the attic stairs, your bruised knees are bent, uncomfortably, under your fallen body. Merciless and proud, Grelcos is perched at the top of the attic steps, leering down. A slight wrinkle of amusement tightens around his pale lips, as he appraises your predicament. His reddening tongue engorges, bathed in crimson bodily fluids, as he saunters forward. A pair of fangs suddenly unfurl at your compromised position.
You start to get up, struggling to forge time for an escape, by calling out...
The box of skates bounces carelessly off the predator's chest, and lands in a soft thud at his feet. A slight wrinkle of amusement tightens around the pale lips of Grelcos, as he appraises your predicament. His reddening tongue engorges, bathed in crimson bodily fluids, and a pair of hard fangs unfurl at your compromised position.
The creature's black globes stare hungrily at you, for a moment confused by your frantic outburst. The once-human Grelcos can see no glittering chain around your neck, and there's no hint of metal or medallion. The creature's supernatural intelligence has peerless intuition about mortals, and of human emotionalism. Grelcos can understand the signals, the silent language of deceit. Grelcos can detect, with supreme self-assurance, the frail and desparate lie in your terrified, rasping throat.
But in the moment of his uncertainty, you take a stand - literally. You manage to stumble to your feet, and to clear your skull. As the thing swoops down the attic stairs, you...
You frantically bend the coat hanger, trying to form a crude, metallic cross, but it takes too long. Grelcos is upon you, an unstoppable force. He is an undead stampede. Sudden, sharp pincers are lodged into the nape of your neck...then darkness.
The creature's black globes stare hungrily at you, for a moment confused by your frantic outburst. The once-human Grelcos can see no unnatural paleness, or whitening around your gills; no puncture holes in the nape of your neck. The creature's supernatural intelligence has peerless intuition about mortals, and of human emotionalism. Grelcos can understand the signals, the silent language of deceit. Grelcos can detect, with supreme self-assurance, the frail and desparate lie in your terrified, rasping throat.
But in the moment of his uncertainty, you take a stand - literally. You manage to stumble to your feet, and to clear your skull. As the thing swoops down the attic stairs, you...
You scramble into the next room and spot a small object centered on the bureau. The undead Grelcos has burst out of the closet, retreating into a dark corner of the room, safe from the sunshine trickling through the curtains at your side. The morning light cannot reach him as he stares into your eyes, his empathic influence sapping all that remains of you. In the short distance, you feel his superior mind penetrating your conscious control. You must act. You must act - NOW.
You hurl the lamp like a spear at the eager Grelcos, but the creature's reflexes are brilliant. Catching the steel lamp in midair, the predator hurls it back at you...in deadly precision.
You tilt the mirror to reflect the sunlight at Grelcos, catching the predator in the sun's redirection. Streams of light ricochet into recesses of former darkness, framing the undead in a boiling purge. The searing heat scorches the recipient's once-immortal skin, disintegrating the horror into nothingness.
