The full moon rises as a troop of soldiers marches into the cemetery.
Garrison Officer: Keep your nerves steady. This "vampire" may try to trick us.
Garrison Officer: Just remember! Those shadows of hers have no flesh to them. They can't hurt you!
Garrison Officer: She's just a sly little brat. Now, we put an end to this.
He hisses out his orders.
All across the town, rumors spread of "the dead rising" in the cemetery, reaching even the soldiers of the garrison. Now bathed under the stark moonlight, the place is especially eerie and cold.
His words do little to calm his soldiers' nerves.
Garrison Officer: We catch her tonight.
Garrison Officer: If we can't take her alive, then we put her down.
His face twists, his voice a snarl through gritted teeth.
A single flute note splits the silence.
Garrison Soldier I: She's here!
Garrison Officer: Don't panic! Find her.
Garrison Soldier II: Ah ... Ah!
As the sound of the flute grows closer, the soldiers scramble to find its source, only to find something far more terrifying.
Shadows surge up like giants towering over the cemetery; they close in, looming over the soldiers below.
They grow until the cemetery is consumed by darkness.
Garrison Officer: Steady, men. Do not shoot.
His voice is drowned out by the music and the panicked murmurs of his soldiers.
The dark figures looming above them suddenly crash down, forming into different shapes, covering every surface. The graveyard becomes a pitch-black hell.
A hell in which all their worst nightmares are magnified.
GAMEPLAY
Garrison Soldier I: Ahh! AHHH!
Garrison Soldier II: Demons ... demons!!!
Gunfire cracks, bullets shred into the dark, but find no purchase.
Garrison Officer: Hold your fire! They're only shadows ...
???: You'll never become a vampire.
The officer keens his ears, trying to find the source of the voice; he fumbles for his pistol, but finds his hand trembling too much to aim it.
Young Rubuska: You'll only die in terror.
Young Rubuska: The moonlight will burn your skin, the darkness will devour your soul, and even in death, you'll never find peace. You'll be cursed—tormented forever by the endless longing to be what you never can.
Young Rubuska: I swear it.
Garrison Officer: ...
The officer empties his pistol in a blind panic.
Silence. The shadows stand unmoved among the graves.
Garrison Soldier I: Huff ... huff ...
Garrison Soldier II: W-what the hell ...?
They thought they had heard wailing cries. Now, only silence. The soldiers pant, guns still raised, ears straining.
Only the wind answers.
Rubuska: And so, the great vampire Rubuska was finally reunited with her family ...
Rubuska: And they had more companions. Together, they guarded their land so that no one could trespass there again.
Rubuska: Once peace had returned to her hometown, Rubuska sensed a greater calling, so she set out once more ...
Aima: Wow ...
Aima sits beside her, eyes sparkling in awe at the tale of Rubuska I.
Aima: That was incredible ...
Aima: Clever, brave, and unyielding. Truly a remarkable vampire!
She praises her sincerely, warm words stacking one after another, until the storyteller's cheeks flush red.
Rubuska: W-Well, you're not wrong!
Rubuska: That's the end of Rubuska I's story. As for next time ...
Rubuska: Next time, what should I write about next time?
She puffs her cheeks and balances the quill under her nose, frowning in thought.
Aima: It's obvious, now you must tell them what happens to Rubuska I next!
Rubuska: Huh? Next ...
Aima: Her adventures are still going on, are they not? So she will soon have all kinds of new adventures.
She smiles softly, her voice filled with warmth and encouragement.
Rubuska: Huh, you're right ...
Rubuska: It's time for a new story ... Oh! Aima!
She pushes the written letter toward her, her tone pleading and serious.
Rubuska: This letter—will you help me make it better!
Rubuska: You've already taught me a lot. I fixed all those spelling mistakes I made before!
Rubuska: Heh ... How did I do this time? Is it any better?
She gazes at her friend with eager anticipation.
But Aima simply slides the paper back.
Aima: I don't think it needs any edits.
Aima: This is your story. The Story of Rubuska the Vampire.
Aima: You should keep it just the way it is.
Rubuska: ...
Her lips curl into a smile—so sweet it warms them both to the core.
Rubuska: But maybe you can look for any spelling mistakes ...
Rubuska: I'll check it over one more time ...
A knock comes at the door.
Aima: Come in!
A tall and slender figure steps into their cozy room.
Corvus: Isn't it a little late for you to be up?
Aima: Conductress, we're writing letters! We're going to drop them in the postbox tomorrow at the station.
Corvus: You should both be asleep. I see my training hasn't quite set in, has it, Rubuska?
Rubuska: ...
She presses herself flat against the desk, terrified another "special training" session is about to begin.
Corvus: Relax.
Corvus: You think me a coldhearted taskmaster, don't you?
She pulls out two pieces of knitwork in different colors.
Corvus: I'm glad you're still up. I wanted to give both of my best stewardesses ... a special Christmas gift.
Aima: Oh!
The seasoned stewardess pounces on the gifts. The white shawl belongs to Aima, the red to the newly promoted stewardess—Rubuska.
Aima: Here, Rubuska! This one's yours!
Rubuska: M-Mine?
Rubuska: Conductress, all this time you were knitting this for ...
She recalls how she grumbled beneath that red yarn ball balanced on her head.
Corvus: You should reread the section on "employee benefits," Rubuska.
Rubuska: I ... I ...
Rubuska: Thank you, Conductress!
She unfolds the red fabric, but rather than a shawl, she finds it drapes much lower, like a crimson cape.
It may not be as grand as a true vampiric cloak, but it is warm and soft.
Corvus: Merry Christmas.
Aima: Merry Christmas!
Rubuska: M-Merry Christmas!
She hugs the knitted red cloak tightly to her chest.
Rubuska: I ... I'll never hang upside down in the carriage again.
Rubuska: Cross my heart!