Collide Gamer

Lyndell was paired up with Claire.

This was good. The vampire maid was a bit chatty, but Lyndell didn't mind chatter going on around her. It was when she was expected to answer that matters tended to get exhausting. Claire did not present her with that expectation. She knew the value of silence, of hiding away from the blasted sun and putting Evanescence on just the right volume, not too loud and not too quiet, while sitting in a car.

“Want to stop by that coffeeshop?” Claire asked.

“Yes,” the forlorn woman responded readily.

The vampire maid smoothly turned their car into the drive-through of a Starbucks. Lyndell was vaguely aware that the chain was horrifically overpriced, but she had practically no awareness of what something properly priced looked like. Once she had become John’s woman, he had handed her stacks of dollars and told her to keep some on her when she wandered the mundane.

She never did. Lyndell did not go outside alone – ever. There was no point to. The outside didn’t have comfortably cold floors and there were all of those… people with their noises.

They were afraid of her. She could sense it. Even the mundane cashier who handed them their coffees beheld her objectively attractive form with a degree of distrust. For all the work she had put into this facsimile of Lucifrena, she was still an ancient fungus wearing human skin. She was a pretender.

That was fine with her. She didn’t need to be entirely accepted as a human. She just needed to be accepted as what she was by them.

“Here you go!” Claire handed the coffee to Lyndell, then hastily rolled the window back up. Tinted windows filtered the sunrays.

“Thank you,” Lyndell said. She sucked on the straw, very careful not to enjoy her beverage too quickly. She had ordered a random combination of things. It turned out to be very sweet. She preferred her coffee bitter, but this was nice sometimes.

“If you could instantly become an expert in any kind of field or craft, what would you choose and why?” Claire asked.

Lyndell hummed. It wasn’t the first time the vampire maid was filling the pleasant tones of the playlist with such a question. “I would like to be a conversationalist like you,” she said.

“You’re going to make me blush. You’re going to make me crash. You’re going to make me develop a crush,” Claire trilled in her little alliteration. “I’m not that skilled a conversationalist, Lyn, and you’re not half as bad as you think you are.”

“You know exactly when to talk and when to be silent.”

“It is true, I know how to weave. I’m not like Sylph.” Claire added a wink to her statement, reducing it from gossip to an in-joke. “The adorable breeze doesn’t quite know the value of silence. You can hold a conversation though. You’re not the super quiet type that is so difficult to read that the talk keeps grinding to a halt.”

Lyndell hummed. “Aren’t you supposed to have a crush on me?”

“See, that’s what I mean, you took something from earlier to keep the talk going! You’re good at this.” Claire smirked. Her teeth weren’t as sharp in this human disguise of hers. “And of course I have a crush on you, fellow woman of Master.”

“Is that all I am?” Lyndell asked, forcing a light smile on her lips. It was all too easy to be lost in the forlorn depths of her pitch-black past.

“Of course not.” The car came to a smooth halt at the traffic light. Even smoother, Claire bent over. Lyndell met the motion halfway through, the two exchanging a swift yet deep kiss.

The human body was peculiar. Just a brush of her lips against that of a loved one placed a pleasant warmth in her belly. Topping it off with coffee made her all jittery with joy. Claire giggled at the display.

“You’re adorable in so many ways,” the cute maid purred.

Their drive continued in that fashion for hours. Awakened had been gathering up in the eastern part of this city. Lyndell did not know which one it was nor was she interested in asking. She went where she was sent. Aiding her beloved’s realm was the least she could do. She may have been a pathetic, forlorn failure of horny mushroom, but she was not going to be accused of being useless.

John had given her vengeance and a future. Like every good fungus, she would tend well to the roots of her symbiote.

No more parasitizing.

They arrived in the night hours. “Scarlett must have calculated our arrival time,” Claire said while they stepped out of the car. “I swear, she has way too much brain for that pretty little skull.”

“She is apt at calculations,” Lyndell agreed. “Where are you going?”

“The trunk of the car.” The answer only confused the first of the new Lorylim that much more. She followed Claire, watched her open the back of the vehicle and reveal a bunch of clothes. “What do you think I should wear?” Pulling out a dress, she held it in front of her. It was a conservative thing with a flower print. “I’m going to be speaking for my- pardon- our John!”

“You can say ‘my’, I am not offended,” Lyndell assured.

Claire regarded the dress with a click and a shaking of her head. “Yeah, but it’s still a bad habit. It’s like, Iusedtotalklikethisallthetime because I just got THAT excited about being happy.”

“Was it really that bad?”

“Oh, it was terrible! I was like… I don’t even know if you can fully understand it, you’re one of those people who don’t feel that intensely.”

“I think I feel pretty intensely?”

“It’s not that I haven’t seen you feel something with gusto, right?” Claire was now holding up a suit jacket. “Like whenever you were fighting against what became of your kin? That was some intense and justified hatred right there. I’m just saying that when I think about being in Master’s arm I get all… AHhhhhhhH!” Claire squealed excitedly and jumped from one foot onto the other. “Oh, damn, I put wrinkles in the suit… well, I definitely can’t wear it now.”

“I indeed do not jump around like that… but I think I have a feeling like that inside me…”

“Really? Can you show me?”

Lyndell tilted her head back, staring into the inky sky. The light pollution of the city snuffed out most stars. Those that remained were far too few to undo the vast black. “It’s who I used to be. It is still inside me, different and yet unchanged.”

“…Didn’t mean to go there,” Claire apologized.

“It is not a matter I wish to be unknown.” Lyndell lowered her gaze from the uncaring void to the concerned face of her fellow haremette. “You and I are intertwined. You have the right to know what I could be.”

Claire gave it a solemn nod then steered the conversation into lighter water with incredible smoothness. “Well, if you could help pick me out the proper garb for this meeting?”

“Why are you choosing unusual clothes?”

“…Indeed, why am I?” Claire raised up her hand. Through the mark upon their wombs, they were connected in a way that let Lyndell allow the pull into the Protected Space to take her along. “Master chose the perfect clothes for me the day I arrived on this world!”

Lyndell quite liked the maid outfit as well. That was why she had modelled her own mycelium dress in its likeness. That and she had tried to seduce John at the time. His visual preferences had been clear. He loved the way thighs peeked out of the slit skirt.

Though Lyndell wasn’t as thick as one of the maids. Having sculpted herself after the golden angel, the rival who she yearned to fight again, she had long legs rather than thick ones. She was told her ass was just perfect though.

“Not going to change?” Claire asked.

“That’s work,” Lyndell responded. She was happy to keep her pretense up. Black hair, blue eyes, pale skin, a loose shirt and comfortable, equally loose pants. She was the least attractive version of herself, but she wasn’t here to talk. She was tagging along just in case something went horribly wrong.

“You look pretty enough as is anyhow.” Claire flashed her a broad grin, her fangs sharpening to almost inhuman points. The casual clothes she had arrived in were replaced with her traditional maid outfit. Giggling, the vampire smacked Lyndell’s butt in passing. It was a pleasant little sting. Lyndell enjoyed the feeling of her soft parts being made to move at other’s hands. “Let’s go and prove Master’s legitimate rule!”

The building they had pulled up to was a large, rentable sports centre. Typically, it was used for those that trained in college activities, Lyndell had learned. Now, it was used as the gathering ground of a rebellious bunch of Awakened.

For once, it was the inside of the Protected Space that was louder. The banging of fists on bags of sand echoed loudly through the open window. Steam rose from the gaps in the building’s walls, extreme moisture inside manifesting once it hit the cold December air. A mild shake added another crack to the wall. The building was not designed to withstand new Abyssals throwing their powers around.

Claire led the way, Lyndell followed demurely.

The entrance was, unsurprisingly, open and unmanned. The two women of this continent’s ruler could just stride straight into the building. Following the sounds of training and the scent of sweat, they entered the indoor court.

Their arrival wasn’t immediately noted. The group of 30 men was too busy aiding each other in training. Dumbbells and crossbars were overloaded with steel and chunks of concrete. The men laughed as they demonstrated their superhuman power to each other. There was something manic about it all.

Physically, it was an interesting collection of all ages. Fat, skinny, and toned were all present, though the former two categories were developing towards the latter. As magic did its work, the shapes of the new Abyssal became more idealized.

One man stood at the centre of it all. He was slamming his fist against a sandbag, five of the men watching him. There was something profound in the way he smashed his fist into the leathery surface, something that prevented the bag from exploding on impact and yet added so much force to the impact.

“Am I doing this right?” the man groaned and checked an electronic tablet. As he did, he noticed the two women in the corner of his eyes. He did a double-take before realizing he wasn’t seeing a ghost. “Why the fuck is there a maid in our gym?”

“Not just any maid!” Claire shouted back, sashaying towards the crowd. Men were simple creatures, men filled with testosterone after a workout all the more. Everyone was magnetically drawn to the swing of the vampire’s hips. Impure thoughts were written all over their features. “I am Claire, Servant-Eternal of his majesty Emperor John Newman of Fusion.”

The announcement sent a chill through the atmosphere of the room – a literal one. The Awakened had poor control over their powers and the intense emotions manifested as cold air streaming from those who had air and ice related powers. One drastic change in the temperature of the room was immediately replaced with another. Passion and pride ignited the skin of the apparent leader of the group.

Golden flames on wiry muscles enveloped him as he turned away from the sandbag. “I was wondering when the big scary guy would send someone!” he said. “So, what are you here to do? Suck my dick so I’m not coming for his throne?”

The crowd of men laughed. Claire’s smile dropped. Her green eyes shifted to red, pupils narrowed. “Desecrate my Master’s claim to my lips again and you will continue this conversation beneath my heel.”

“Yeah, yeah, very fucking scary! Here’s the deal!” The man beat his chest. “We’re chosen! We’re bursting with power and we know that you fear us!” He laughed loudly, that mania becoming all the more apparent. There was no cooler head behind those feverish eyes. The man thought himself the leader of a pack of apex predators, elevated into a realm that was his to take. “You can swear your fealty to me now or after I rip your current ‘Master’s’ cock off and stuff it down his throat! Willing or not, I’ll get a taste of you before this is done!”

“…Have you said your piece?” Claire asked, venom dripping from her voice.

“Oh no, there’s-“

“Shut up!” The vampire’s voice cut through the room, forcing the man’s jaw to clench tight. “Kneel!”

All of the men had gradually formed a front around their leader. Now they all hit the ground in unwilling prostration. Claire’s voice alone was enough to mesmerize them. The leader, also subject to her gaze, remained upright for three seconds. His cheeks puffed up from the defiant breaths he took. Ultimately, it was futile. Like the others, he crashed into the ground.

Claire marched over, maintaining her elegant gait even now. Once she reached the leader, she placed her heel on his shoulder. With irresistible force, she forced him to bend forwards, then kept him pinned under her heel. “That’s better,” she spoke with sharp cheeriness. “That’s proper. That’s where you belong.”

“Impressive tyranny,” the man growled, a defiant smirk on his lip.

“…I do not take criticism from a respectless, uninformed mongrel high on his perceived superiority.” Claire adjusted the position of her foot. The golden flames on the man’s skin attempted to burn her, but failed to break through her regeneration. Her heel was almost on his neck now. “Be thankful that I know true tyranny and that I will not enact it upon you. By my wise Master’s will, your transgressions will be judged fairly.”

“…In… out… in… out…” the man whispered to himself. “Gather it in the joints… then let it snap forwards like a bolt…”

“What are you muttering about?” Claire asked.

The man did not respond. Further than the flames, a blue aura ignited, the telltale sign of Martial Arts. Overpowering Claire’s control, he swept aside her leg, then jumped to his feet. All of it happened at a moderate speed, impressive but not enough that Claire couldn’t have stopped him if she had wanted to.

The man’s Aura pulled beneath his skin, remaining visible only around his shoulder. It was an interesting technique to follow. Claire stared at it dismissively and let him take his swing.

The gathered up energy shot down his arm. When his knuckles made impact with Claire’s cheek, it all unloaded in a golden light. The vampire’s head exploded into a scattershot of metal particles and red-black mana, filling the air.

Lyndell’s eyes subtly widened. She stared, watching as Claire’s decapitated form stumbled one step back, then fell over backwards rigidly. ‘How?’ The question was quiet inside Lyndell’s mind. Curiosity was overpowered a thousand-fold by a tar-like rage, crawling from the abyssal depths of her mind.

“Bitch!” the leader spat on Claire’s rigid form. “Can’t even use her like that.”

“As long as she’s still warm,” one of the other men joked.

“Dude, have standards.”

“He does: as long as she’s warm!” a third man said.

They laughed.

Lyndell continued to stare.

The vampire maid was entirely still.

“Hey, quiet one, think you know better now?” The leader rolled his left shoulder. “Let me see the body under… those… clothes…”

The false exterior peeled away. Horns like thorns protruded from her forehead. Lines of black mycelium wormed their way through her unnaturally white skin and out through the floor of the gym. Black spores in her voice, the murderer of the ancient Lorylim said a singular word.

“Die.”

The men backed away from the runic circle. Too slow. Not far enough. The last root was laid. Mana collapsed into the void she had carved and changed the state of the world. Gravitational energy surged. Men who had barely gotten on their feet were pulled down with such force that bones snapped and muscles tore. The metal equipment in the room collapsed into heaps of scrap-

The surge only lasted half a second. That was all Lyndell needed to reduce her enemies into screaming piles of meat on the ground. Mercilessly, she strutted forwards, ignoring the screams. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU!?” the leader screamed.

Why even answer that when he could never begin to fathom the darkness he had stirred.

Lyndell adjusted the runes beneath her skin. Her physical capability surged to new heights. Tendrils of black broke through the skin of her arms, wrapping around the limbs of the leader when she grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up. She stared. This wasn’t what she had been created to kill.

The beginnings of a smile crept onto her lips.

“Lyndell.”

The mention of her name froze the turmoil inside her. She turned her head. Claire’s head was regrowing rapidly, shaping from materials and skittering spiders.

“I’m fine.”

“Oh…” The awakening ecstasy of murder died, leaving forlorn clarity in its wake. Her nature remained, as it always did. Lyndell dropped the scum to the floor. As she walked to Claire, a different circle was etched into the floor. “That’s good.”

Claire took Lyndell’s hand, letting the murderer help her up. The vampire did not release her hand, instead interlocking her warm fingers with that of the unredeemable entity. “I also rather like being alive,” the vampire maid joked. “Did you kill anyone?”

The new runes activated at that moment. Shattered bones suddenly righted themselves, a powerful surge of regenerative blessing making the men heal in the same span of time that they had been broken. It was not pleasant healing. The vicious hatred of her nature had retreated to the recesses of her soul, but Lyndell herself was perfectly capable of being petty. The men screamed as their nervous systems were stitched back together, with all of the pain signals of limbs getting snapped back into place.

“I hear thirty screams,” Lyndell answered.

“Yup, and I see thirty squirming morons,” Claire agreed.

“How the fuck are you alive?! I blew your head off!”

“First off, you should thank me for being alive. If you kill any of my Master’s women, I really think Lyn here killing you quickly is the most merciful fate you can ask for.” Claire kicked the floored man, putting him on his back. “More important is the question of how you hurt me and suppressed my regeneration like that?” The red eyes of the vampire flashed with mesmerizing might. “You will tell me everything you know. No threat to my Master will stand!”