The creature latched its acidic-drooling fangs into my bare skin and began feeding hungrily upon my blood.
As soon as the acidic substance came in contact with my skin, I felt a hot, burning sensation. My eyes stung from the tears that welled up, but remained frozen — much like the rest of my body. I was paralyzed, helpless and unable to scream any further as the creature continued to drain what little blood I had. Soon, I felt my eyes grow heavy and darkness began to consume me.
Once I shut my eyes, I immediately felt a great weight being lifted from my body, followed by the sounds of hisses and guttural growls nearby. Though I was severely weakened, my eyes managed to flutter open slightly — enough to gaze upon the silhouette of another larger figure.
The humanoid abomination was grappled and restrained single-handedly by the larger figure that let out subtle hisses of annoyance.
As the stranger stepped into the dim light of the cave, I recognized him to be Master Dagg. His ebony eyes reflected an eerie glow from the cave's dim light and for a moment, they appeared as though they were slit like a feline's.
Sensing that my eyes were, perhaps, deceiving me, I closed them and tried to shake off the uneasiness that rose in my body. When I reopened them, I saw the abomination bite furiously at Master Dagg's hand, attempting to break free of the man's iron grip, but its efforts proved futile.
Amazingly, Master Dagg's skin absorbed the acidic substance that drooled from the creature's mouth and he remained unscathed. In retaliation, Master Dagg's hand punctured effortlessly through the creature's neck, which spilled blood everywhere. Upon retracting his hands, the blood that covered them converged to a sharpened point on each of his fingers before dripping down to the ground.
My eyes narrowed curiously at the strange sight, wondering if either my mind was playing tricks again, or if Master Dagg really had long nails.
Tossing the remnants of the creature down in a heap, Master Dagg approached me and knelt down to examine the gash in my neck. Afterwards, his blood-soaked and seemingly claw-like hands reached out to feel the wound.
Though his touch sent chills through me, I sensed his concern. I felt him carefully pick me up and carry me off to his laboratory where he continued his examination.
He gently pulled my eyelids open and gazed upon me pensively for several minutes. After what sounded like cursing in a language I was unfamiliar with, he hurried over to one of the shelves and retrieved some items.
I continued staring up blankly at the stalactites, meanwhile, unsure of what exactly was happening.
Moments later, Master Dagg returned carrying a serum in one hand and a syringe in the other, both items containing equal amounts of an unknown, colorless liquid. He placed the glass vial to my lips and poured the tasteless contents down my throat, which he later massaged his fingers gently around to make me swallow. Simultaneously, as I ingested the strange, tasteless liquid, he injected the syringe's contents into my wrist.
For a brief moment, I felt the sensation of my body's paralysis subside. The sensation was suddenly consumed by the feeling of my innards being on fire. I writhed uncontrollably and my vision began blurring at random intervals. I caught a glimpse of Master Dagg standing over me, watching briefly before extending his hand over my large wound.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated and uttered incoherent words until his hand gave off a strange, crimson glow of magical power, which felt hot against my skin.
The paralysis suddenly returned to my body, coupled with my eyes going blind and I was rendered helpless once more. Amazingly, however, I was still able to scream in lieu of the traumatizing experience.
“S … Stop! Stop it, you madman!”
Master Dagg said nothing in response and continued his strange ritual.
Only after a few minutes did I feel the paralysis permanently leave my body and my vision become clear once more. I focused my gaze into Master Dagg's ebony eyes, confused and flustered of all that happened.
He finally pulled away from me then retrieved the empty serum and syringe.
“You are lucky I returned when I did, Jasmine,” I heard him say. “It seemed my undead experiment had caught the scent of your warm blood and decided to have a snack. Such a shame, really. It took me quite a while to find an ideal, ghastly creature for my newest experiment.” He sighed.
As he spoke, I laid on the table, staring at the stalactites, dumbfounded. Now that I was no longer paralyzed, I somehow felt my strength renewed. Carefully, I sat up on the table and glanced around the laboratory until my eyes finally rested on Master Dagg. Having recalled that traumatizing experience vividly, I placed my hand over the side of my neck, feeling for the wound that was once there; but, it was gone. My eyes went wide as I no longer felt the pain, either.
“Am … Am I dead?” was all I could say in a hushed tone.
Master Dagg chuckled as he approached me. “No, but you would have been if the contagion in your body from the creature's contact had spread any further,” he said. “Your body was beginning to show the initial signs. Fortunately, the combination of the formaldehyde mixture you ingested, with the simultaneous effect of the ricin I injected in your bloodstream was enough to make your body emulate the properties of an undead being, thus making you immune to the contagion. While your body remained in this state, I was able to draw upon enough energy to heal that wound on your neck.”
It all sounded like gibberish to my ears. “What disease?” I demanded. “What did you do to me?!”
He snorted. “I saved your damned life; however, something tells me that it was a mistake.”
“You are a madman!” I shouted angrily. “You and your crazed experiments!”
He shot a piercing gaze at me before storming over to the table and wrapping his hand around my small neck. I gagged at first, but as he squeezed my windpipe closed, I was gasping for air.
“I will remind you that I am still your master,” he seethed in a voice that no longer sounded human. “You will learn to address me as such, or I will reanimate that creature and allow it to feed upon your live body until you are nothing more than skeletal remains.”
While death didn't sound like such a bad idea at that point, the thought of such a horrid fate preceding it made me consider otherwise. After he slowly released his grip from around my neck, I rubbed his finger imprints in my skin painfully, afterwards.
I scowled, reluctantly lowering my head and responding bitterly, “Yes … Master….”
As another month went by, the life I once knew was nothing more than a faded memory. Master Dagg instilled fear into my mind, reminding me of my place by demonstrating his powers over the most horrific creatures. Furthermore, he threatened my own life of being amongst his undead thralls, should I ever defy him. His procedures were effective enough that he forced me to forget all that occurred prior to his rescuing me that fateful night — including the memories of my family. I did not understand his purpose for doing so, but I complied reluctantly, knowing that questioning his actions usually brought me a world of pain, afterwards — whether physically, or mentally. The scars on my heart remained, however, even as I struggled to forget my past. There was a certain emptiness I always felt when Master Dagg eventually made me aware of the fact that I did have a family at one point; but, that was all he allowed me to know.
Master Dagg's peculiar ways never ceased to amaze me. I soon learned that he was a master of the dead — an arcanist, as he preferred to call himself. His work was not accepted by everyone and as a result, he went into isolation in these dank caves where he practiced his dark arts.
After so many horrific close encounters with creatures of the dead and undead, it wasn't long before my own interest in the Arcanic Arts grew, which he was pleased and willing to teach. Ironically, there was a certain love that we both shared in the quest for knowledge of life and death. I had regretted the day I called him a madman. He was, in fact, a beautiful artist and a master of his trade. I was sacrificed to be his beloved test subject.