The Monster's Apprentice: Chapter 88 - The Blood of a Conduit | Part 1

Jun 01, 2026

“Pureblooded vampires stand as gods among monsters, their power so great that even the most skilled hunters fear them. They are not merely difficult to kill—they are impossible.”

— Reverend Isaac Grimsby, “Bloodworth: A Study of Vampiric Predators,” page 134

Before Mina could move, Henrik stepped forward, lowering his halberd in front of her.

“Draven Theodgar!” he bellowed from beneath his helm, “You are the bastard son of a whore, and you shall not live to see the moon crest the sky again. We have come for Emily, and though I would take pleasure in bestowing upon you every ounce of pain you’ve brought to others, I offer you this—mercy. But once. Drop your weapons, kneel before us, and accept the inevitability of your defeat.” He took a step forward. “Your forces are gone—no more than mush stuck to the underside of our boots. You stand alone now, and nothing can save you except the silver edge of my blade. Your life is forfeit.”

Draven’s grin stretched impossibly wide. He didn’t flinch. If anything, he seemed amused. “Such confidence. And all from something so frail. A mortal knight, really? Are you here to entertain me, perhaps? Put on a brave show before your inevitable demise?”

“Do not mistake mortal flesh for weakness. I am the earth’s wrath given form, ready and willing to return you to the soil. The blackest pit of hell has opened just for you. So give me your answer—and do not keep the devils waiting. Do you surrender?”

Draven choked out a mocking chuckle. It gradually built until it became outright laughter that echoed off the brick walls. “My, my, Wilhelmina. I expected you to bring some form of support, but this? What a fascinating turn of events.” His attention snapped back to Henrik. “Prey tell, stranger, what is your name? I feel like I should know it before I snap your bones like twigs.”

“Have you forgotten me so easily?”

“I’ve known many men, knight. Faces blur into one after a few centuries. You’re all so… forgettable.”

“I am Henrik Schwartz,” the knight growled, his grip tightening on the halberd. “Chief Knight of Serenity Gardens, Master of Geomancy, and husband to the late Kasia Schwartz—the innocent woman you murdered in cold blood.”

For the first time, Draven paused, his grin fading slightly as he studied Henrik more closely. Then, a sarcastic smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Ah. Kasia Schwartz. Yes, yes, it’s coming back to me now. Though in my defence, the women are just as forgettable as the men. They’re no more memorable than the whores I bed. But Kasia…” He chuckled. “Now that’s a name I hadn’t thought of in quite some time. Not until recently, that is.”

“Your answer…”

“I admire your confidence, I truly do.”

Henrik was silent for a moment. “Very well. Then, before I sever your head from your shoulders, I demand answers. Why did you attack Serenity Gardens? What purpose did it serve to slaughter innocents? Why assassinate Kasia? Who gave the order?”

“Normally, I wouldn’t bother indulging you. I’d simply tear your heart from your chest. But you intrigue me, Sir Henrik. I’m genuinely impressed. You, a mortal, standing so boldly against a pureblooded vampire. It’s… quaint.”

“Answer the question,” Henrik demanded.

“Serenity Gardens… yes, I remember that place fondly. It was a job, of course, given to me by none other than Queen Lockhart herself. She promised me power, prestige—the privilege of seeking out the next conduit. You know how rare those are, yes?” He dropped his voice to a whisper, narrowing his eyes. “The order came from her father. He passed it to the queen, and she to me. Simple, really.”

Mina glanced between Draven and Henrik. She was clearly missing some vital piece of the story, but now was not the time to ask for details.

“Does that answer suffice?”

Henrik stood still, his breathing slow, but Mina could hear the slight tremble in it. Finally, he spoke. “No…”

Draven raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you’d like that answer. But alas, I am not the one to ask. The finer details are beyond me, and I cared little for them. A job’s a job. It’s a pity, though, isn’t it? You’ll never know the answers you seek. Not when you’re about to die.”

A heavy silence fell upon the three, broken only by the faint creaking of the old building.

Mina fired her guns.

Emily hobbled through the hospital.

Her bare feet squelched in the slick pools of blood that painted every corridor. Bodies were strewn everywhere, twisted and torn apart to the point it was hard to tell where one ended and another began. Limbs hung from shattered light fixtures, blood dripped from the ceiling, and the walls were smeared with gore like a madman had painted them with viscera. It was still fresh and wet, glistening in the light that Emily’s arms were still emitting.

“What on earth happened here?” Clara asked nervously.

“Mina…” Emily muttered weakly.

“Do you think shes still in the building?” Arthur asked.

Emily shrugged. “Maybe? I don’t know…” She needed water, food, sleep, anything to get her energy back up. The only thing pushing her on was the knowledge that they were almost out. Just as they reached the lobby, Arthur tore off one of the curtains and wrapped it around Clara, then did the same for himself. Their clothes were useless after the succubi tore them to shreds. They needed some sort of protection if they wanted to make it more than five feet out the door.

Stepping out into the midday sun, Emily’s body became awash with bliss. Not the kind that rushed through her with joy, but instead, sheer relief. She wanted to fall to her knees and cry. She didn’t even care that she was blood-soaked on the riverbank of Peccatum; she was just relieved to finally be out of that hellhole.

Just like inside, the streets were littered with bodies, torn and shredded like paper dolls. Carriages lay overturned, horses long since fled. The people of Outer Peccatum had fled, too. As long as they were far from this building when it exploded, Emily didn’t care.

A hellish screech came from above, and something swooped down with a deafening rush. Arthur was yanked off his feet, lifting Emily for a moment before letting go. Clara screamed, but she, too, was snatched up, lifted from the ground by something.

Emily staggered, her eyes wide as she searched the sky. Above them, two creatures floated. They were twisted and mangled, and they looked like shattered mannequins, their bodies cracked and fractured, held together by glowing purple threads that shimmered brightly in the sunlight. Their faces were split open, gaping like macabre, grinning scarecrows, their hollow eyes glowing purple. They hung in the air like broken marionettes, their hands sharp and jagged like claws.

“No!” Her voice cracked as the mannequins dug their claws into her parents. Emily flung a fireball, striking one of them and causing it to let out a shrill wail. Fire spread across its body, and its purple glow pulsated violently as its limbs jerked.

Only then did it dawn on Emily.

“Violet?” Her voice trembled. “Violet! Stop!”

The mannequins froze instantly.

Emily’s hard breathing filled the air as she searched around, but there was no Violet in sight. “Let them go!” she shouted. “They’re not vampires! They’re my mom and dad!”

The eerie purple light emanating from the mannequins flickered uncertainly. They hovered in place, their heads twitching ever so slightly. A third mannequin floated toward Emily from behind and spoke with a voice so deep and distorted that it was hard to tell what it was saying. ‘They are your parents?’

“Please,” Emily begged. “Let them down. They’re not going to hurt anyone.”

The mannequins lowered Arthur and Clara back to the ground almost immediately. Emily’s parents quickly readjusted the curtains, ensuring they were well-covered and protected. Emily knew her parents would heal, but granted, she couldn’t tell which parts of them were injured anymore, not when they were all covered in so much blood.

“Thank you,” Emily sighed. Down the street, several more possessed mannequins hovered around. “You’re controlling all of these?”

‘It is straining. I cannot hold them for much longer. But yes, I have been serving as the first line of defense for any monsters fleeing the scene.’

“Where are you?”

‘Safe. Hiding nearby. Karaline has barricaded the door for good measure.’

“Emily,” Clara’s voice trembled. “What is this?” She looked nervously between the mannequins and the carnage surrounding them.

“My friend, Violet. Don’t worry, she’s really sweet.”

Before Clara could respond, a shattering noise caught everyone’s attention. A vampire wrapped in a cloak crashed through the second-floor window. He hit the ground running, but before he could get far, two mannequins swooped down from above. They caught him mid-stride and sank their jagged fingers deep into his flesh. Blood and entrails splattering onto the pavement in a heavy, crimson rain. The mannequins then dropped the remains like broken toys and resumed their watch.

The three of them stood in silence, staring at the mangled corpse.

‘I have been ensuring that no vampires or succubi escape.’

“Well, you can let these two through,” Emily said. “They aren’t going to hurt us.”

‘You do not look alright,’ one of the mannequins beside her said.

Emily chuckled, turning to face it. “Y-Yeah… You came to save me?”

‘Of course. You are my friend. I would do anything to protect you.’

“Are Mina and Henrik here?”

‘I have not seen them since they entered the hospital. I presume they are still inside.’

Emily’s chest tightened as she glanced back at the hospital. “Then they’re still going after Draven. They need to get out, now! The boiler is going to blow this whole place up.”

‘Should I send a mannequin to find and warn them?’

Before Emily could answer, another deafening crack rang out, followed by the sound of shattering glass. A large table flew through a set of massive windows, crashing into the street with a heavy thud. Emily’s heart raced. “No,” she muttered. “I think I know where they are…”

Karaline crouched at the edge of the flat rooftop.

The streets surrounding Saint Blacks looked like a butcher’s yard left open to the flies. The bodies Violet had pulled apart lay twisted and malformed. She hadn’t seen this much blood in a while, not since Serenity Gardens, and it almost made her sick.

The high, keening cries of the succubi filled the air. It was a sound like broken glass. Most of the outer city’s residents had bolted at the first gunshots, and Karaline had watched them scatter indoors. She was lucky enough to find a ladder to the roof, where she could keep Violet safe. She sat behind her, cross-legged, her eyes shut with purple smoke drifting from the eyeholes of her bleached mask. Faint violet threads shimmered from her fingertips, drifting downward through the building like spectral spider silk toward the broken mannequins that stalked the streets and alleys below. Every few seconds, one of the strands would quiver. A mannequin’s head would snap toward movement, and they’d intercept another escapee before ripping them apart until there was hardly anything left.

Karaline let out a slow breath. How much longer was this going to take? Emily was safely down below. They just needed Mina and Henrik before getting out of here. Then again, they likely weren’t leaving until Draven was dealt with. She watched the second floor where the gunshots were coming from, keeping her rifle trained on it.

“How ye holdin’ up, Vi?” she asked.

Violet nodded. Sweat glistened along her temples despite the cool wind blowing in from the riverfront. Holding so many at once was bleeding her dry. Karaline could feel it: Violet’s strength waning. They didn’t have much time before she’d need to sever her connection to the spirits, lest she run out of energy; the kind that was keeping her alive.

“Good lass,” Karaline murmured. “Just a wee bit longer—” She watched Emily hovel back into the hospital. Her parents stayed outside. The father and mother tried to go after her. “The fuck is she doin’?”

A sudden scrape of bone rasping on brick came from her left.

Karaline froze.

Another succubus shriek cut off mid-note with a wet gurgle. Gunshots cracked from the hospital.

She pivoted slowly, sweeping the barrel along the roof’s perimeter. Nothing but gravel, vent pipes, and the distant sway of laundry lines two buildings over.

The scrape came again, closer, below the parapet.

She edged to the opposite side and leaned just far enough to peer down the three-story drop. Nothing but an empty alley.

Then, a naked woman launched herself up the wall like a feral hunting cat. Karaline yelped and fired the rifle. The succubi’s head jerked back. She plummeted, flailing before striking the alley floor three stories below with a meaty thud that sent blood splattering across the ground.

Karaline leaned further, watching. The succubi’s body twitched, then began to contort as her bones snapped violently.

“Oh, ye’ve got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

The succubus dragged herself upright with a misshapen skull. Teeth jutted out along the ridges of shattered bone. She tilted her ruined face upward, locked her frenzied eyes on Karaline, and let out a guttural howl that raised every hair on Karaline’s arms. She started climbing again, faster, sinking her claws into the brick for purchase.

Karaline reloaded and fired again. “Where the fuck did she come from? Vi, ye let any slip past?”

Violet shook her head.

“Like hell ye fuckin’ did!”

The succubus fell again from a shot to the breast. Down the emptied street, six, maybe seven feral succubi came running from deeper in the city. They moved like a pack of feral dogs, running with their arms elongated and claws primed. Their mouths gaped open as they screeched and howled. They were being drawn toward the hospital like sharks to blood.

“Shite. We’ve got more comin’ up from further in. They’re flankin’ us, Vi. We might need to move.” Before Karaline could decide whether to start picking off the pack or relocate, a new sound cut through the din; A piercing metallic whistle.

The Ironguard.

Karaline’s stomach sank.

“Ah, fuckin’ fantastic,” she muttered. “They’re either gonna make things worse or wind up killed.”

The soldiers of Peccatum rounded the corner. Rifles cracked in unison. The succubi staggered, but the shots hardly slowed them down. They weren’t using silver bullets. It’d take more firepower to kill these feral beasts.

Another feral had reached the base of their building and begun clawing upward.

Karaline sighted down the barrel again. She exhaled slowly. The crack rolled across the rooftops.

The succubus lost her grip and fell.

The Ironguard whistles sounded further in the distance. Succubi screamed from afar.

Reinforcements were coming from every direction.

Karaline worked the bolt, chambering another round. “Vi, we gotta move! Now!”

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED TODAY’S CHAPTER!

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