This is the last thing many Council soldiers see before they die, Erich Heidenreich, a Nazi with more issues than Reader's Digest and a serious obsession with destroying the Council.
Now then, my entry! Sure, it's heavily dramatized and compounded into one mission, but I DID solo that EB. Not too happy with the end, so it'll probably be edited quite a bit before the deadline.
___
Vampyrism sucked.
No, no, Vamyprism didn’t suck. Heidenreich sucked. But Heidenreich’s suckage was hardly his own fault. The Fifth Column had been strong and glorious, then the Center had come along and here he was; midway through his transformation, imprisoned by Arachnos as a Destined One, surrounded by superpowered loonies and forced to scratch out a miserable existence doing mercenary work.
Still better than sharing a prison cell with that Greater Devoured, though.
Heidenreich leapt onto the deck of the cargo ship. This was definitely where the Council soldier had directed him after his ‘interrogation’. Something seemed amiss... nevertheless, he slipped inside. The stench of blood and gore justified his suspicions. Flaring his nostrils quickly pinpointed the source and he crept towards the concealed corpse. Intriguing. Perhaps a disagreement within the ranks? Oh. Merely a very messily murdered sailor.
Leaving the amateurish artwork and his disappointment at the entrance, Heidenreich snuck deeper inside the understaffed ship. At last, he spotted living people aboard - two Council soldiers. The Nazi pricked his pointy ears and hid out of sight. Perhaps they knew what was being smuggled into Port Oakes.
“I don‘t care how high the betting pool is! That Vampyr will rip me to shreds if I make a sparkle joke!
A Vampyr. The Council had smuggled a Vampyr into the Rogue Isles. Were they insane? The only Vampyr that Arachnos allowed on this festering hellhole was Erich Inglebert Heidenreich, and that was because they’d kidnapped him!
“Blechley can't, you’re not on the list.”
“What list?”
“The assassination list, idiot! Didn't you pay attention at the briefing? He's here to kill everyone who interferes with our operations! The Vendettis, that Fifth Column loyalist--”
“Flockenstuffen?”
“No, the ugly one.”
“Flockenstuffen?”
“The one with the Reichsman obsession.”
“Still sounds like Flockenstuffen….”
“The Vampyr!”
“Flockenstuffen's a Vampyr?”
“Will you shut up about Flockenstuffen?!”
Claws ripped across Heidenreich’s back, hurling him to the cold steel floor and ending his eavesdropping. How had he not heard the Vampyr approach?! “I thought you were smarter.” The raspy voice’s owner tore into his victim‘s flesh furiously. Heidenreich smashed his elbow into his attacker’s face and Blechley staggered backwards, giving Erich time to upright himself. Quickly regaining his footing, Blechley flashed a sadistic grin. “Recognize this?” Wait, what was he holding? The German’s eyes widened with realization behind his goggles. Blechley's fist clenched, crushing the Destined One's mediporter into fine powder. Oh
, crap!
Heidenreich knew what he had to do at that instant.
Run.
The Nazi bolted to the exit, but hadn't escaped his imminent death. He was locked inside the ship with the monster and the monster had caught up. Having no other choices, Heidenreich attacked. Although his claws weren’t as sharp as his opponent’s and his life-draining abilities were laughable, he still had one ace up his sleeve. Yes, he was physically inferior, but Blechley was unfocused and obsessed with tearing Heidenreich to shreds. In doing so, he neglected his other powers. Heidenreich, however, did not. The half-Vampyr ripped into the full Vampyr, mesmerizing his opponent, directly attacking Blechley’s psyche while staying
just out of reaching distance.
“Stand still and DIE!” Blechley snarled and lunged for him.
“Verpiss dich!” Heidenreich retorted rudely in his native tongue. A well placed psychic blast knocked Blechley off balance and he smashed face first into a crate.
Several hours later the battle was finally over. Erich Heidenreich emerged from the ship, triumphant. He was battered and bloody, but alive.
Which was more than could be said of Blechley.
