Ch 8: I Don’t Like Sand

The tent still held a trace of warmth when Teresa woke, but the shift from rest to readiness was so immediate it snapped Erica awake before she even understood why. One moment everything was still, the quiet weight of sleep pressing down around them, and the next Teresa was already upright, her hand moving for her blade as if the motion had started before her eyes had even opened.

Erica pushed herself up a second later, the blanket slipping from her as the cool air brushed over her skin, and it took her just long enough to realize what was wrong for it to hit all at once. They hadn’t gotten dressed. The memory of that sat awkwardly for a split second before urgency replaced it, and she reached for her clothes without thinking, dragging her shirt over her head while Teresa was already halfway through fastening her gear.

There was no hesitation in Teresa’s movements, no pause or second thought, just quick, practiced efficiency as she pulled everything into place, tightening straps and securing her weapon with the ease of repetition. Erica followed as best she could, not nearly as smooth but fast enough, stepping into her pants, tugging them into place, forcing her boots on while her mind caught up with the situation.

“Get dressed,” Teresa said quietly, even though Erica already was.

“I’m done,” Erica replied, grabbing her bat and pushing herself up fully.

Teresa had already gone still again, her attention fixed outward, listening in a way that made the air inside the tent feel tighter.

Erica stepped closer, lowering her voice without meaning to. “What is it?”

Teresa didn’t answer immediately. She raised a hand, signaling for silence, and Erica held her breath, forcing herself to stop moving entirely. At first there was nothing, just the faint pressure of sand packed against the tent and the distant whisper of wind moving across the dunes, but then something scraped along the surface outside. It was uneven, dragging, followed by another sound just like it, closer this time, and then a wet, heavy breath that didn’t belong to anything human.

“Vampires?” Erica asked under her breath.

“Of course. Feral most likely, ” Teresa replied, her voice low and certain. “A group.”

The sound circled them again, brushing along the outer sand covering, and Teresa’s expression tightened slightly as she listened, piecing together the movement without needing to see it.

“They’re surrounding us. Ten, maybe more.”

Erica’s gaze followed the faint shifting outlines beyond the fabric, the red bars hovering above them moving in jagged, unnatural patterns. The levels weren’t overwhelming, mostly in the teens with a few pushing higher, but there were enough of them to matter.

“They’re not that high leveled,” Erica said, more to herself than anything.

“They don’t need to be,” Teresa replied. “Numbers will do the rest if you let them.”

That was enough to settle it. Erica glanced at Teresa, catching the way she answered without questioning the numbers. So NPCs understood levels too. Good to know.

Teresa moved to the entrance and brushed away a thin layer of sand, just enough to check outside before stepping back again, already adjusting her stance.

“They’re tracking heat. We can't stay buried,” she said, shifting her weight slightly. “We'll break out fast and start killing. Stay close and don’t let them box you in.”

Erica nodded, tightening her grip on the bat. Her heart was racing, but it wasn’t the same blind panic from before. It felt sharper now, more controlled, like her body had already learned something from the last fight.

“Ready?” Teresa asked.

Erica took a breath, steadying herself.

“Yeah.”

Teresa kicked the entrance open, and the desert rushed in all at once.

Cold air hit first, then movement, the ferals already close enough that there was no delay between exposure and attack. One of them snapped toward the opening, its head jerking into place with a cracking sound as its jaw opened too wide, teeth slick and uneven. The scream that followed was high and broken, and it triggered the rest immediately.

They surged.

Teresa stepped into them without hesitation, her blade flashing once as it opened the first feral from throat to collar, dark blood spraying across the sand as the body collapsed mid-lunge. The others didn’t slow, piling forward in uneven bursts of speed, their movements erratic but relentless.

Erica moved left, picking her target instead of reacting blindly. The first one came at her low and fast, arms outstretched, and she met it head-on, swinging the bat across its face with a solid, committed strike. The impact was heavy, deeper than just flesh, and she felt the bone give under it as the head snapped sideways.

Damage: 68 → Critical 136

HP: 96 → 0

The body dropped immediately, collapsing into the sand without resistance, and the abruptness of it registered just long enough for her to realize how much that angle mattered before the next one was already on her.

This one moved differently, slightly heavier, its posture more stable as it closed the distance. She swung too early, catching it across the shoulder instead of the head, and the difference was immediate. The impact still landed, driving it off balance, but it didn’t stop.

Damage: 68

HP: 140 → 72

It twisted back toward her, arm hanging at an unnatural angle, and lunged again before she could reset. Erica stepped forward instead of back this time, tightening the swing and bringing the bat up into its face. The hit crushed inward with a wet crack, teeth breaking loose as blood sprayed outward.

Damage: 68

HP: 72 → 4

It was still moving, barely, and she finished it with a short follow-up strike that dropped it fully into the sand.

Something hit her from the side before she could reposition. The claws tore across her ribs, slicing through fabric and skin just enough to send a sharp flare of pain through her side.

HP: 691 → 614

She twisted away immediately, breath catching for a moment as she reset her stance, and the same feral came again, faster now, more aggressive.

She didn’t try to trade hits.

She jumped.

The first leap pulled her out of range, and the second carried her higher, giving her a brief moment of space that didn’t exist on the ground. From there she could see it clearly, the way it leaned forward when it attacked, the way its head stayed exposed just a fraction too long.

She dropped straight down.

The bat came with her.

Damage: 68 → Critical 136

HP: 220 → 84

The impact crushed into the top of its skull, driving it down into the sand with a heavy, wet crack, but it didn’t go still. It staggered hard instead, collapsing forward before forcing itself back up, blood running thick down its face.

“…Alright,” Erica said under her breath. “You take a bit more.”

It lunged again, slower now but still dangerous, and she sidestepped just enough to let it overcommit before jumping again, using the second push to swing behind it mid-turn. The bat came across the side of its head this time, snapping it sideways with a sharp impact.

Damage: 68

HP: 84 → 16

It twitched, still trying to recover, and she didn’t give it the chance. Another strike followed immediately, finishing it as the body collapsed heavily into the sand.

By then the fight had started to thin out, the weaker ferals already down and the stronger ones either falling or retreating under pressure. Teresa moved through the remaining few with clean, controlled strikes, never wasting motion, cutting one down as it tried to break away before it could get more than a few steps.

The last one dropped, and just like that, the desert went quiet again.

The wind moved back in, brushing across the dunes and carrying the smell of blood with it, settling into something that almost felt normal compared to the chaos a moment before. Erica stood where she was, breathing hard, her arms buzzing from the repeated impacts, her grip still tight on the bat as she looked over what was left of the fight.

“…Okay,” she said, more to herself than anyone else. “So I'm fucking badass now.”

Teresa wiped her blade clean, sliding it back into place with a small, controlled motion before glancing at her.

“You kept up,” she said.

Erica let out a breath. “I so fucking did!"

“That’s the right attitude,” Teresa replied, amused with her new friends enthusiasm.

Behind them, sand shifted, and the second tent cracked open as Dr. Gan pushed his way out, brushing sand from his sleeves as he stepped into the open. His eyes moved across the scene quickly, taking in the bodies, the blood, and the state of both of them before settling.

“Is it clear?” he asked.

“For now,” Teresa said, still scanning the horizon.

Dr. Gan nodded once and stepped fully out, his gaze pausing briefly on Erica and the bat in her hand.

“You intact?" he observed, the blood stains on Erica's shirt.

“…Yeah.”

He gave a small nod. “Good.”

Teresa let out a faint breath that might have been a laugh, but didn’t comment further.

They didn’t linger after that. The three of them moved in sync without needing to discuss it, breaking down the tents quickly, brushing sand away and packing everything with a speed that came from understanding the risk of staying too long. Erica followed their lead, her movements smoother now, less hesitant, falling into the rhythm of it without needing instruction.

Within minutes, there was nothing left of the camp except disturbed sand.

Teresa slung her pack over her shoulder and gave the horizon one last look before turning.

“We move.”

Erica adjusted her grip on the bat and stepped in beside her, Dr. Gan falling in just behind them as they started forward again.

The desert stretched out ahead, quiet in the way it always was, a faint glow on the night horizon meaning day was approaching.

Erica shifted as they walked and immediately regretted it.

Sand moved with her.

It had worked its way into everything over the last few hours. Inside her boots, grinding against her toes with every step. Under her clothes, sticking to her skin in places she didn’t want to think about. In her hair, dry and stubborn no matter how many times she brushed it back. Every movement just redistributed it instead of getting rid of it, like the desert had decided she belonged to it now.

“This game is way too realistic,” she muttered under her breath.

She reached up, dragging her fingers through her hair again, and felt the faint grit still caught there. It didn’t matter how much she shook it out. It stayed. Even the inside of her sleeves felt rough, the fabric no longer smooth but carrying a thin layer of dust that clung to everything.

She shifted again and made a face.

“…Yeah, no. I hate sand,” she said quietly, more to herself than anything.

It wasn’t dramatic. It was just constant. There was probably sand in places she didn’t even want to confirm, and the worst part was the game didn’t filter any of it out. It all felt present, like the system had decided discomfort was part of the experience too.

Teresa glanced at her briefly. “You get used to it.”

“I don’t think I will,” Erica replied flatly.

Teresa didn’t argue.

───

They walked for most of the day.

The desert didn’t change much as the hours passed. The dunes shifted slowly under the wind, the light stretched long and harsh overhead, and the horizon stayed just out of reach no matter how far they moved. There was no water, no shelter, no signs of life beyond the tracks they left behind. No players crossed their path. No wandering caravans. Not even the distant movement of vampires.

Just heat, sand, and distance.

By the time the sun began to dip, Erica had stopped expecting anything to appear at all.

So when the settlement finally came into view, it didn’t feel real at first.

It sat low against the horizon, more a cluster of shapes than a proper town, its outline broken and uneven as if parts of it had simply given up over time. The closer they got, the more that feeling settled in. Half the buildings leaned or sagged, their wood darkened and warped, some boarded up entirely while others had sections missing like they’d been torn open and never repaired.

Still, there were signs of life.

A few windows held light. Smoke rose faintly from one chimney. A pair of figures moved between two structures, slow and deliberate, carrying something between them.

“Is that… it?” Erica asked, squinting slightly.

“It’s enough,” Teresa replied.

As they reached the outer edge, Erica felt it.

A faint shift in the air.

It wasn’t visible, not really, but it passed over her skin like stepping through a thin layer of something cooler, something denser. For a second her body reacted before her mind caught up, her shoulders tightening as she instinctively glanced around.

“You felt that,” Teresa said.

“…Yeah,” Erica replied. “What was that?”

Teresa gestured toward the walls.

Now that she was closer, Erica could see them properly. Symbols had been carved and painted along the outer perimeter, looping patterns etched into wood and stone alike. Dark lines traced over each other in layered circles, the color too deep to be paint.

Blood.

“Undead wards,” Teresa said. “Holy protection.”

Erica stepped closer to one, studying the dried lines. “So they just… keep vampires out?”

“They weaken them. Repel some. Kill the weaker ones if they push through.” Teresa glanced toward the rest of the settlement. “It’s the only reason places like this still exist.”

Erica frowned slightly, following the pattern with her eyes. “Then why don’t we just… cover everything in these?”

Teresa gave her a short look. “They need a priest to maintain them. Power them. Renew them.”

“Oh.”

“There aren’t many left.”

Erica nodded slowly, glancing toward a small stone building further in that looked more intact than the rest.

“…Chapel?” she asked.

“Most likely,” Teresa said.

That made sense.

They passed through the settlement proper after that, the space opening up into a rough main path that split between what remained of the buildings. A few NPCs moved through the area, slower than normal people, more tired than anything else. No one rushed. No one wasted energy. Even the ones who glanced their way didn’t linger long, as if everyone had already learned not to stare too much at armed travelers.

“There,” Teresa said, nodding toward a squat building with dim light spilling from its windows.

The inn.

It wasn’t impressive. The wood was worn, the door slightly crooked, and one side of the roof looked like it had been patched more than once, but it was standing, and more importantly, it was open.

They stepped inside.

The air changed immediately. Warmer. Still dry, but less biting than outside. A few tables were scattered across the room, most empty, though one had a pair of older men quietly talking over something that looked like a map. Behind the counter, a woman stood with her arms folded, watching the door like she had been expecting someone.

Teresa walked up first.

“Three,” she said simply.

The woman nodded once.

Teresa reached into her bag and pulled out a small pouch, setting it on the counter. When she opened it, Erica saw them.

Fangs.

Dozens of them.

Some small. Some long and curved. All stained in varying shades of dark red and brown.

Teresa pushed a handful forward.

Erica just stared.

“…We pay with teeth?” she asked, unable to hide it.

Teresa glanced at her, eyebrow lifting slightly. “What?”

Erica gestured toward the counter. “That. We pay with that?”

Teresa looked at her for a second longer, then something like faint amusement crossed her expression.

“Did your parents pay for everything?” she asked. “Damn. Spoiled, huh.”

______

NEW TRAIT GAINED: NEPO BABY

Costs reduced by 10%

_______

Erica stared at the notification for a long second, then frowned.

“…Wow.”

Teresa glanced back. “What?”

“Nothing,” Erica blinked, then let out a short laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “Yeah… I guess. Sorry. I just… stories always said money. Like coins. Not… teeth.”

“Well,” Teresa said, pushing the fangs forward as the woman began counting them, “money doesn’t mean much when the world is ending. People care about what helps end it.”

She tapped one of the fangs lightly.

“These do.”

Erica watched as the woman finished counting and gave a small nod.

“That and gold,” Teresa added.

“…Right,” Erica said slowly. “Good to know. I should probably start collecting those.”

“Yup.”

The woman handed over a small wooden token and jerked her head toward the tables. “Food’ll be out.”

They moved away from the counter just as Dr. Gan lifted a hand from across the room, already seated at a table he’d claimed without them noticing.

Erica slid into the seat across from him, Teresa taking the side beside her.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Dr. Gan leaned forward slightly.

“A day more,” he said. “We should arrive.”

Teresa nodded once. “If we keep pace.”

He tapped the table lightly. “We could stay here overnight. Or we push through. Move day and night.”

Teresa didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she tilted her head slightly toward Erica.

“I can protect you,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “But if a vampire lord finds us, I can’t protect both of you.”

That settled the tone of the conversation fast.

“They know where we were,” Dr. Gan added. “They will have calculated likely routes.”

Teresa nodded. “Which means they’ll be waiting somewhere ahead.”

“…Great,” Erica muttered.

“We rest here,” Teresa said. “Then we move prepared for an ambush.”

Dr. Gan leaned back slightly.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath.

But he nodded anyway.

Erica didn’t say anything. She just listened, letting it settle. It felt less like planning and more like accepting something that was already going to happen.

Food arrived not long after.

A bowl of soup was set in front of her, along with a chunk of bread that looked like it had been baked days ago and kept just barely edible. The soup itself wasn’t much better. Thin, a few floating pieces of something that might have been vegetables, the surface shimmering faintly with grease.

Objectively, it didn’t look great.

Erica picked up the spoon anyway.

The first bite hit her harder than she expected.

It was warm. Actually warm. The flavor was simple, a little salty, a little bland, but it spread through her mouth in a way that felt… real. Not like the dull, background taste she was used to in games. This had texture. Heat. Weight.

She blinked slightly, taking another bite.

“…Okay,” she said quietly. “That’s… actually good.”

Teresa gave her a sideways look. “It’s not.”

“I know,” Erica said, already going for another spoonful. “But it is.”

She didn’t even slow down after that. The bread was dry and a little tough, but dipping it into the soup softened it enough, and the combination felt better than it had any right to.

As she ate, something else shifted.

Her side stopped hurting.

The lingering ache from the fight faded, the tightness easing until it was just… gone.

HP: 548 → 691

Erica paused for a second, then smiled faintly to herself before taking another bite.

“…Yeah,” she said under her breath. “I’m in heaven.”

Teresa huffed quietly.

"I think you are just hungry, my dear. This is most definitely hell," Dr. Gan said, grimly.

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