Through the thick canopy of leaves, bathed in the pale light of the moon, the sloping roofs of the old school building came into view. Almost there.

  But something didn’t sit right.

  There was a nagging feeling at the back of my mind. I still wasn’t sure what my body was truly capable of, and in a world like this, hesitation could cost you everything. I couldn’t afford to take chances. No, I couldn’t keep guessing. I needed to push myself, test the limits, and find out just what I was really capable of.

  And to do that, I’d need a safer spot. A truly deserted spot. Even more so than the old building.

  Instead of going directly towards the school’s old wing, I went off the beaten path, circling behind it.

  Annexed to the old wing, there was the closed gym and covered basketball court. Just like the building proper, the school used it as a storage shed for phys-ed, so more likely than not, I was bound to find things there that’d help me test out my new abilities.

  “Lucky” I whispered, reaching for the metal double doors.

  A thick steel chain looped around the large handles, complete with a heavy padlock and despite my newfound strength, I doubted I could snap it or brute force my way through the green-paint flecked iron.

  Then again, I didn’t much want to, either.

  This intact chain could only mean that the inside of the gym was most likely safe. A good place to test my capabilities without being disturbed.

  I looked up at the windows standing twenty feet up above.

  That was the only option.

  “Well, no time like the present” I muttered.

  Time for the first experiment.

  During the goblin ambush I had climbed the tree by instinct alone, too stuck into the flow of combat to properly pay attention to my own actions. But even hyper-focused on the fight though I had been, I knew I had felt… something. This time I had to take everything step by step. Understand exactly what this vampiric body could do. I replaced the hatchet into my belt and held my hands in front of me, fingers spread, trying to focus on them.

  “Inhale. Exhale. Not that you need to, but do it anyway. And focus.”

  The action was pointless, I knew that—breathing didn’t do a damn thing for me now, since I didn’t need air anymore. But still, it helped bring a measure of calm. I closed my eyes and let the rhythm take over, drawing in a lungful and exhaling slowly.

  At first, it was subtle, a quiet shift. A small inkling of realization, tapping at the edge of my mind. But with every breath, I became more aware—aware of my fingers, of the way each bone felt beneath my skin. I could feel the strength in them, every muscle tightening as I flexed my hands, the fibers contracting and loosening with every motion, even the solidity of my nails. And then, something else. A strange sensation, like my nails weren't fully extended. As if a part of them was still tucked beneath the skin, waiting. Unsheathed.

  I focused on the sensation and flexed my fingers again, pushing the movement as far toward the tips as I could.

  Something stirred—deep inside me. It started low, in my stomach, then rose. Up. Into my chest. Into my…heart?

  My heart beat.

  Once.

  A spasm of motion. Like a piston hammering.

  I felt it, heard it, and for a moment, my concentration almost shattered.

  But there was no need for me to concentrate anymore. Like a damn bursting open, it spread and flowed, suffusing my every cell, fiber and pore. Power. Raw power. Concentrating in my hands.

  A warmth spread over them, like the heat of a blanket, and I opened my eyes. Horrified fascination gripped me as I watched my hands begin to change, to warp, like wax melting against flame.

  It was blood.

  The something that had shot through my body was the blood I had taken from the goblins, and now a portion of it was converging into my hands, warping and transforming them with terrifying speed.

  The muscles in my fingers became engorged and bloated as blood poured into them. My nails extended three times their size, blackening, thickening, sharpening at the tips and curling like talons. My knuckles and finger joints swelled, blood curling around them, just beneath the skin, solidifying like plating. Even the skin of my hands became thicker, more porous, almost like cured leather.

  It was gruesome, disgusting and supremely beautiful, all at once.

  The whole process had lasted no more than a second, and yet I couldn’t move, frozen in place, staring at these hands that were now so completely alien to what I was used to.

  They looked like the hands of a predatory beast.

  “Yuck!!!” I whispered before I could stop myself and then chuckled.

  Media and pop-culture portrayed vampires as sexy monsters, but this was the furthest thing from sexy. Morbid and grotesque were better words to describe it. Either that or body horror. Still, it made a lot of sense when I thought about it.

  Vampires in shows and movies had claws, but usually it was just the nails extending a little bit. There was little logic to it. How could thin nails slash through flesh or wood and not break, or tear out from their sockets. Hell, how could one do that without having the joints in their fingers just snap? The answer was simple.

  “Explain it away with magic”

  What was happening to my hands was a lot more anatomical.

  Easier to rationalize.

  Extending my claws didn’t just mean they popped out like a cat’s. The entire anatomical structure of my hands was changing to make them usable.

  And blood was the fuel for it.

  So… still magic? And a little bit of anatomy? And physics?

  I shook my head and looked towards the window. Good enough of an explanation for me.

  I'd gotten some answers, better not ruin the moment with even more questions.

  It was on to the next experiment.

  I moved close to the wall, crouched low, and jumped. The world around me blurred in an instant, the bricks flashing past so fast I almost forgot to sink my claws into the surface. My talons sank deep into the brick, not quite slicing through it with the ease of a knife through butter, but enough to hold me latched onto the surface.

  "Holy shit…" The words escaped before I could stop them, as I looked down.

  It wasn’t just that I was holding myself up against the wall, my almost 200 pound bulk supported by nothing but my arms and claws—it was that I’d jumped twice my own height in one go.

  In a single bound, I’d cleared over ten feet, more than half the height to the windows above.

  This had to be some sort of record.

  And this had been without…

  The idea quickly snapped into my mind and I pushed off the wall, landing lightly on the grass below, my body absorbing the impact with feline grace. I could’ve climbed the rest of the way, I knew that for a fact. My strength was more than enough.

  But I had to test this idea out first. Ten feet was my baseline. But what if I did the same thing I had with my hands? What if the blood I had taken could empower more than just my claws?

  I crouched again, settling into position, and repeated the breathing exercise, letting the rhythm center me.

  This time, I didn’t leap.

  I held the stance, focusing, stretching my perception out like I had before.

  And it came again. Easier than the first time. Like drawing a deep breath, or exercising a muscle I hadn’t been aware of before. The strength in my bones, the tautness of my muscles, the deep pull of my core and legs, like a spring coiling. The elasticity in my ligaments, the weight on my joints—all became sharp, clear. I could feel the blood pooling in my gut, rising, flowing into my chest. Into my heart.

  Stolen story; please report.

  And my heart beat.

  Once.

  A pulse of force, strong and hard like a pressure valve finally released, sending all that accumulated blood, cascading, warmth and power flowing through my veins.

  And into my legs.

  The change hit me hard, and it was different—yet no less impressive. My baggy jeans suddenly felt like they’d become those slim-fit travesties, as my lega swelled, bulging a third bigger than before, pumped full of blood and power, muscles hard like slabs of granite.

  I launched myself off the ground with everything I had.

  Not a jump. A launch.

  This time I was ready for it. Seeing the brickwork become a blur, feeling the air push against my shoulders, the magnitude of my leap carrying me higher, faster. When my upward momentum slowed and finally halted, I slammed my clawed hands down and hung there.

  Over twenty feet high, against the wall, I’d actually overshot the windows by a good three feet. All in one leap.

  “Blood Buff!” I blurted out laughing, my mind, for whatever reason, reminding me of a specific mechanic in an old Vampire game I had really enjoyed.

  “It’s a Blood Buff!”

  Perching a foot onto the windowsill and a claw into the brickwork, I slammed my elbow into the glass, shattering it and creating enough of an opening to unlatch it.

  The gymnasium building was blissfully empty on the inside, just like I’d thought it’d be. Dust caked most surfaces, save a small portion near the door itself where the faculty brought and took supplies when needed. There were weights, balls, the basketball field, more than a few tumbling mattresses and various other phys-ed knicknacks.

  Grateful for my improved sight that could cut through the interior’s pitch black like it was day, I jumped from the window, boots slapping against the yellow painted parquet.

  This would do.

  This would do, perfectly.

  I quickly took off my jacket and folded it onto one of the benches,ready to begin my testing in earnest.

  A jolt through my innards made me stop, senses alert, arms taut and ready to lash out.

  But no threat came. No rotblood or goblin, I was still very much alone in the building.

  The jolt came again, less intense this time, and I recognized it for what it was.

  I was hungry. Or, thirsty, rather.

  “The fucking Blood Buff” I snarled and cussed myself for a fool. Of course something that gave me such an advantage would require “fuel”.

  The Blood Buff in my legs had already dispersed and returned to normal after that explosive, twenty foot jump. But my hands were still malformed, claws still talon-like. I breathed in, focusing again, picturing nails instead of talons, skin instead of hide and the flesh of hands flowed and swiftly returned to normal.

  I felt as a particularly large portion of the blood used to transform them actually flowed back into my gut… blood pool?... Blood Pool.

  So it wasn’t this that had eaten through my blood. Then, it had to be the empowerment I‘d used on my legs. Made sense.

  There was a lot more muscle there, much more mass needing to be “overfed” in order to be empowered. And all that blood solidifying into plating underneath the skin of my hands could most likely be liquefied again and returned to my Blood Pool.

  For my claws it had been like flexing a muscle I was not used to using, adding something that could in part be recuperated. But for my legs it was like “overclocking” and, just like burning calories for mortals, it had taken its toll in blood.

  Still, silver lining, I was only slightly hungry. Not starving, not even close to that.

  I made a mental note to try and figure out my base blood consumption and use the “Blood Buff” as sparingly as possible. Or rather, not at all, until I figured out exactly how much blood I went through as a default.

  Dammit, in an RPG I’d have a blood counter, tooltips that’d tell me the cost of something like the Blood Buff.

  No such luck though.

  I sighed and shook my arms and legs, limbering up.

  No use fretting over spilled milk…or consumed blood…I still had tests to run.

  Just had to be more careful.

  An hour later, sitting on one of the benches, trying to make sense of this new reality, in one hand holding a piece of discarded chalk, in the other, my phone, screen lit up with the offline "Trivia Encyclopedia" bloatware app.

  Over and over again, I compared the results I had scribbled on the wall with the app's information, running the numbers, mind reeling, struggling to accept what I had just discovered about my vampiric body.

  Deadlift : 595 Pounds. 270 Kilos. I had stacked the dusty weight plates one on top of another until I reached the maximum I could lift off the ground and hold for at least five seconds. Ten twenty kilo plates and seven ten kilo plates.

  By comparison, the world record for Atlas Stone was 661 Pounds. 300 Kilos.

  Hundred meter dash : 8.1 seconds, timed on my phone’s stopwatch. World record was 9.83 seconds.

  Standing Jump : Over 10 feet. 3 meters. Current record, 5 foot 7 inches. 1.7 meters.

  Both measured not at head height, but bottom of the feet.

  I set both the chalk and the phone down. All these tests I’d done over and over again, to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. All of them had been baseline, without activating the Blood Buff. And considering the jump I had done for the window with the buff in play, that meant that I could hypothetically double all these numbers.

  Even my bones seemed to have gotten stronger. The three thick wooden benches I had snapped with just my fists were testament to that. This was the kind of thing you’d expect from lifelong martial arts practitioners, not… some guy.

  Above all, I’d been in two fights with goblins and done a full hour of training to the absolute top of my physical limits since waking up.

  By all reason, I should have been exhausted, but wasn’t even slightly tired. Safe to say, there was nothing human about me anymore, especially my stamina.

  As a rough baseline I was slightly faster and more dexterous than an athlete, as physically capable as a professional strongman and could put my fist through 10 inches of solid hardwood like it was a breeze. Moreover, I could heal mortal wounds and broken bones in a matter of hours, probably even faster if I were to use my blood pool.

  And all this wasn’t even taking in consideration my heightened senses or my virtually limitless stamina.

  This was good.

  More than good, considering what the world had most likely become.

  But one glaring situation remained. I lacked experience. Hand-to-hand was one thing, and even there I was a rank amateur at best, but my experience was lacking when it came to using weapons, melee or ranged.

  A sigh escaped through my teeth.

  Nothing I could do about this.

  Other than training, the only way to gain said experience was to continue putting myself in life-or-death situations. And with training options being limited by the small matter of the apocalypse, life-or-death situations were the only route to take.

  “Is of no matter” I murmured, parroting Mother Superior’s motto. The old nun was the Gibraltar stone of our old orphanage. Unshakable. Wonder if she’d survived.

  Probably. The woman was like a granite slab in sheer bloody minded tenacity.

  I turned and glanced at the night’s sky through the window. The starry black was beginning to give ways to hues of blue.

  Dawn was coming.

  “One last test remaining” I mumbled and rose from the bench.