Blood & Chlorophyll Ch. 01

Welcome, one and all, to the inaugural chapter of my new series! For this Book, I’ll be switching things up a little and writing in someone else’s world. The “Becoming Monsters” LitRPG setting was originally created by AiLoves, and is now managed by OtterlyMindblowing. Reading their work is not required, this story is a standalone piece, but I highly recommend checking out their books regardless. 

Enjoy!

—

Tiny slivers of sunlight crept into the room, followed by a quiet chorus of birdsong. Their dulcet melodies were accompanied by the rhythmic staccato of the city's traffic, of people rushing to and from work. The ambient soundscape of the outside world was unfortunately disrupted when a shrill beeping noise filled the room, rousing the lifeless body buried under the sheets. A single, pale hand reached for the phone on the nightstand, and the figure inside groaned when she saw the time. She snoozed her alarm and went back to sleep for another ten minutes.

By the time the alarm sounded again, all traces of sunlight had vanished. The dark of night filled the room, and the faint sound of a ravenous stomach grumbled beneath the covers. With every possible excuse to stay in bed exhausted, Katrina finally admitted it was time to get up.

She threw her sheets aside and slid her feet to the floor, groaning once more as she left her bed. One hand covered her mouth, covering a heavy yawn, while the other gently traced the wall to help guide her through the cramped apartment. The bathroom was the next door over, and she closed her eyes in anticipation of the lights turning on. By the time she’d adjusted to their glare, she’d managed to find the power button for her mirror.

It wasn’t technically a mirror, of course, she only called it that out of convenience.

In actuality, it was a large video screen suspended over her sink. A camera had been embedded in the center, providing real-time footage of whoever happened to be standing in front of it. For the last four years, that camera hadn’t seen a single soul other than Katrina.

She went through her morning routine half-heartedly. She knew that it kept her body healthy, but she struggled to maintain enthusiasm for something she’d been doing since kindergarten. She always had to floss and brush her teeth, regardless of the size of her cuspids. Her hair still needed washing, whether it was heavily curled or straight enough to string a violin bow.

The more things change…

Once she finished washing her face, Katrina clicked the mirror off and watched her reflection vanish. Staring into the black of the screen, she realized the towel rack behind her was empty. Thinking back to last night, she remembered she’d never retrieved her clothes from the building’s laundry room. Sighing in resignation, she dried her face on her sleeve and prepared to head downstairs. Best case scenario, the floor her clothes had ended up on wasn’t too dirty.

After grabbing her laundry basket and her slippers, Katrina left her apartment and headed towards the elevators. She pulled out her phone, hoping she might be able to live vicariously through everyone else online, and lazily scrolled through the socials of her favorite delvers. It often felt like being nocturnal left her playing catch up with the rest of the world. By the time she was awake, all the important things had already happened, and she simply had the privilege of watching the world sleep.

After watching a couple quick videos of people showing off their dungeon outfits, she realized the elevator still hadn’t arrived. When she looked up, she saw bright yellow caution tape blocking off the entrance, and a sign apologizing for the inconvenience.

That’s new. Hopefully they’re up in less than a month this time.

Katrina opened the door to the staircase only a few moments later. Five years ago, the elevators being down would have been enough to ruin her day, but now it was simply a mild inconvenience. The stairs were built with a gap in the middle, spiraling further and further down until they hit the ground floor, and there was more than enough room for a person in that gap. She leaned over the edge, made sure no one else was taking her route, then floated up over the railing.

For all the misfortune her new body had brought her, Flight had been the sole positive. She couldn’t go very fast, it was more like glorified levitation, but there was no denying that complete mastery of the skies was an incredible feeling. She routinely left for work by gliding out her bedroom window, and she was able to completely avoid all the city’s foot traffic. That being said, she would sacrifice flying in a heartbeat were she offered her old body back.

As Katrina floated down the staircase, she lazily scrolled through her news feed, but nothing she saw interested her. She had been hoping there might be updates about the supply shortage, or at least new discoveries from the dungeon, but every site was instead focused on the upcoming anniversary of the Change.

Landing on the ground floor, she pocketed her phone and continued her journey. She had no interest in reading about that terrible day, so she instead focused on the laundry room. Sure enough, she found her clothes in a pile on the floor, but whoever had moved them had at least kept the pile contained. It all seemed clean enough, so she threw everything in her basket and began the return trip home. Her stomach had started grumbling again, and the last thing she needed today was to be trapped in a small room with her neighbors.

Katrina flew back to her apartment as quickly as she could, regretting that she’d let herself get sidetracked by the laundry. She kept a routine for a reason, and now was not the time to get complacent about meal times. Her hunger gnawed at her, threatening to take over if she ignored it for too long. She grabbed the handle of her fridge, looked inside, and her eyes went wide in realization.

It was completely empty.

How did I forget about grocery day? Ugh, c’mon Katrina, it’s the same day every week!

She was now wide awake, mild panic keeping her thoughts sharp.

Alright, I have to get to the clinic as fast as possible. Shoes, keys, phone, donor card, cooler… Everything's good to go. I can be there in less than ten minutes, that’s not bad, right?

As she flew out her bedroom window, locking it behind her, she made a beeline for the local clinic. Thankfully, her neighborhood was far enough away from downtown that there were no flight restrictions, so it was easy to keep her travel time short. Even though it was late, and the crowds were relatively thin, she was still glad she had a way to avoid them.

Less contact meant lower chances of an incident.

After only a few minutes of flying, the clinic finally came into view. Years ago, it had originally been a walk-in clinic for mundane injuries, but recently it had been converted to specifically cater to Races. With roughly a third of the planet no longer being human, many people struggled to keep up with the needs of their new bodies, and the ordinary walk-in clinics of the past had needed to adapt.

Staff clinicians were constantly receiving training on the myriad Races that now existed, as well as their unique needs. Most demons, for example, had an extra status bar that required them to feed on the various sins of those around them. After the change, many of these demons struggled to manage their Hunger safely, and these clinics began offering counseling to help them tame their desires. They also had an expanded array of equipment to administer medical treatment when required; some races had skin that resisted standard needles, and many were too large to fit in existing hospital rooms.

When Katrina landed, she saw there wasn’t a line and sighed in relief. She walked up to the service window, which was covered by magically reinforced glass, and rang the service bell. After a minute of waiting, a familiar face finally approached the window. A human man in his late twenties appeared, his wrinkled blue scrubs indicating he was near the end of his shift. He had short blonde hair, a soft face with grayish-blue eyes, as well as a collection of stubble that he was constantly fighting back.

“Dennis! You’re a sight for sore eyes, how was the rush today?” Katrina asked. She did her best to remain cordial, she wanted to stay on the best terms possible with the people keeping her alive.

“Today wasn’t too bad, though we had a small incident with a fire elemental. Apparently the blankets we bought weren’t properly fireproofed, so I’ve been filing a complaint against the supplier.” He paused, rubbing his eyes before continuing. “Grocery day already?”

“You know it. I’m fresh out, and my stomach is killing me,” she said, sliding her donor card under the glass.

“Look, Katrina, about that…” Dennis leaned against the counter, his face ready to deliver bad news. His fingers lingered on the card before he pushed it back to her.

Katrina gripped the straps of her cooler tight, doing her best to stay calm. “Don’t say that Dennis, it’s not funny.”

“This blood shortage is hitting everyone, there’s nothing I can do about it. We’ve filled out every form in existence, I’ve even mentioned that I have Vampires in the area, but this week there simply wasn’t a shipment. You’ll have to go downtown.”

“Please, there’s got to be something here. Beastkin? Minotaur? Heck, I’ll even take Goblin blood, just… something. Anything.” Her breathing quickened, panic setting in before she whispered, “I can’t go downtown. I’d have to take the train.”

Dennis leaned closer to the glass, stealing a look around the lobby before speaking. “I… might have something, gimme a sec.” He left the window, and after a few minutes, returned with a small hazmat bag. “We had an incident earlier today. Someone got attacked, and this was one of the towels we used to clean up. I know it’s not edible, but maybe it will make the train ride easier.”

He slipped the bag under the window, and Katrina snatched it up eagerly before hiding it in her sweater. “I… thanks Dennis.”

“Just make sure no one sees the bag, alright? If the wrong people start asking questions, the clinic could get closed down.” He flashed a sympathetic smile, then continued talking. “I wish there was more I could do, honestly, but that’s all I’ve got.”

As Dennis leaned back, Katrina found her eyes wandering to his neck, but she quickly tore them away. “Guess I’ll see you next week. Stay out of trouble until then.”

“Same to you, Kat. Best of luck.”

Kat. She never knew how to feel about that nickname. In all honesty, she really liked it, but she hated what it represented. It meant people liked her, wanted to get close to her. Dennis had asked her out once, ages ago, and while the attraction was mutual, she hadn’t given it a second thought. The last thing she needed was another incident, and Dennis was too kind for his own good. If they started dating, it would only be a matter of time before he offered himself up to her hunger, and she couldn't do that to him.

Leaving the clinic, Katrina steeled her nerves and headed for the local train station. She wanted to love the trains, she really did. Chicago had revamped them to be as Race friendly as possible, and that was only one of the many policy changes that had been implemented after the Change. Katrina was intimately familiar with these laws; the donor card in her pocket had come from one such policy. It marked her as a Race that needed to consume blood to survive, and using it at designated clinics allowed her access to ethically sourced blood, normally a week’s worth at a time.

Of course, the shortage wasn’t helping. The current policy was to heavily ration out the existing supply, and while this was helping on a macro scale, it meant Katrina was constantly hungry. At times it was easier to manage, and she tried to alter her schedule to avoid crowds, but it was at its worst when she was in close proximity with other people.

For example, riding a crowded train into the heart of downtown Chicago.

The doors opened in front of her, and Katrina found herself jostled around as the crowds behind her pushed into the train car. She could hear the heartbeats of every person around her, smell the blood running through their veins. Some of the more aggressive passengers cast judgmental glares in her direction as she failed to move with the crowd, and without fail they all recoiled in fear when they saw what she was.

There was no hiding her Race. She had vibrant, crimson eyes that glowed bright when she was hungry, and she was absolutely ravenous. She did her best to breathe through her mouth, to minimize the smell, and this meant her fangs were on full display; two supernaturally powerful canines, eager to rip into the throats of every person on the train with her.

The doors closed, locking Katrina inside, and within seconds they were leaving the station. Her hands gripped the straps of her cooler, nervously wringing it as she stared at the floor. She swore the heartbeats around her were getting louder, their rhythms joining together to form a discordant symphony of forbidden desire. Just as the sound threatened to overwhelm her, she remembered the bag Dennis had given her earlier, and she eagerly opened it up.

Her fingers clenched the towel tight, pulling it to her nose in the hope she could distract her senses. The blood had mostly dried, though being sealed in a hazmat bag seemed to have slowed the process somewhat. Thankfully, the smell hadn’t vanished, and its delectable aroma filled her world as she breathed in deep. Her eyes closed, and she did everything she could to lose herself in the scent. Her body stopped shaking, at least a little bit, and it was slightly easier to forget about the many passengers that surrounded her.

Time continued passing, the train occasionally stopping to let passengers on or off. The first time she’d ridden this line, she had hoped the night hours would keep it somewhat empty, but those hopes were quickly dashed when she realized it was the best route for delvers to get to the dungeon. With each stop, the crowd slowly acquired more people ready for combat, occasionally carrying weapons, though Katrina paid them no mind despite her curiosity.

After an eternity of waiting, of somehow managing to keep herself in line, Katrina made it to her stop. She did her best to calmly walk off the train, avoiding people when possible, though it was difficult. The hospital was a newer structure, and had been built fairly close to the Dungeon, so every delver on the train was leaving with her.

Some of the delvers, upon leaving the train car, jumped into the air and began flying to their destination. Katrina watched them leave, desperately wishing she could do the same, but downtown Chicago had strict regulations about which Racial and Class abilities could be used. While there were sometimes exceptions, generally only authorized emergency personnel and certified delvers were allowed to fly. The hope was that responding to crises would be easier if those qualified to help could avoid the crowds.

Katrina, despite her initial wishes years ago, was not a delver. She lowered her head and focused on making it to the hospital, clutching her cooler tight. Thankfully, the crowds dispersed somewhat as she neared her destination, and before she knew it, she was walking into the hospital.

The incredibly large building had several wings, all dedicated to different purposes, and she was off to the Race wing today. After a few more hallways, she found the path towards non-emergency services, and her steps quickened now that she knew she was close. Many of the people she passed still had injuries, but they were minor enough that they could afford to wait. Katrina’s goal was the counter meant for non-medical treatment, which existed to help races that needed exotic material as a part of their day-to-day lives. When she found the line, she quickly stepped into place, and sighed in relief.

Her focus was somewhat distracted, however, when a feminine voice beside her spoke up. “Ma’am, are you in the right line? If you’re bleeding, you should head back towards non-emergency services.”

Looking over, Katrina saw a Nekomata in bright pink scrubs holding a clipboard, clearly concerned about the bloody towel. She was of middling height, with bright green eyes and a slim build, and her black cat ears twitched towards Katrina as she started talking. “N-no, I’m a Vampire. This is just… keeping me sane while I wait for my turn.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Unfortunately, I’m going to have to ask that you let me dispose of it. Hazmat concerns, I’m sure you understand.”

With a heavy sigh, Katrina nodded in agreement. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight. This shortage is really messing me up.”

“I completely understand, ma’am. Looks like you’re almost up, though, so you’ll have your rations soon!” the Nekomata said, smiling wide. She pulled on a pair of gloves, grabbed the bloody towel, and walked off. Without even realizing it, Katrina found herself looking at the girl's neck, wondering what the girl's fur would feel like as her teeth sank into—

Stop it, Katrina. Dennis lent you that towel to prevent an attack, and she's just doing her job.

She shook her head and bit her tongue, turning away from the nurse. Thankfully, it was only another few minutes before Katrina was called to the window. She slid her donor card under the glass and set her cooler in a small drawer that would transfer it to the other side. The lady at the window, a tall Aelf with a short blonde pixie cut, smiled as she scanned the card. She grabbed the cooler before walking off, leaving Katrina alone at the window and nervously tapping on the counter.. After a few quick minutes, the Aelf returned with a full cooler.

“Here you are, seven bags of human blood. Please wait until you’re outside the hospital to start consumption, and make sure that all medical waste is properly disposed of. Sign here to accept.”

Katrina did as she was asked, signing her name as quickly as she could before she opened the cooler to look inside. “Wait, these bags are only 300 mL, aren’t they supposed to be 350?”

“Rationing guidelines were just updated, and unfortunately they had to cut the portion sizes down.”

“I… hadn't heard that. How long will this be in effect?”

“I wish I could say. Officials are doing everything they can to encourage people to donate, but right now there’s no end in sight. If there’s nothing else you need, could you please step aside?”

Katrina forced a smile, then closed up her cooler and left the line. She kept her eyes on the floor as she slowly navigated out of the building,

As if things weren’t bad enough already. How am I supposed to continue like this?

Stepping outside, she found the cool night breeze had picked up slightly. It tossed her hair around, bringing with it the smell of the Dungeon Camp just a few blocks away. She'd visited once, about a year ago, and had almost lost control when a guild returned from a run with several injured party members.

Best not to tempt fate again. 

By the time Katrina made it back to the train, she was pleased to see the crowds had thinned slightly. The ride would still be difficult, but at least she wasn't packed like a sardine.

Now that there was space to breathe, she noticed that the other passengers were subtly avoiding her, doing their best to lean away or switch spots. She didn't blame them, their fear was perfectly justified, and at least it made it easier to find a corner seat. With her cooler on her lap, she thought about opening it, but ultimately decided to wait. She hated drinking blood in front of people, though she could never be sure if that was due more to their discomfort or hers.

Instead, as the smells of the other passengers began to assault her again, she decided to try and distract herself.

“Status.”

—

General Information

Name: Katrina MacMillan

Race: Vampire

Age: 25

HP: 100%

SP: 31%

MP: 100%

—

Attributes

STR: 11

END: 16 (+4)

DEX: 12

AGI: 15 (+2)

INT: 9

WIS: 10

CHA: 19 (+4)

LCK: 12

PER: 13 (+2)

HLT: 15 (+4)

—

Racial Features

Vampiric Curse

Flight

Undead Fortitude

Enchanting Gaze

—

Class

Bard - Path of Magic

Level: 2

Progress: 5%

—

Class Features

Inspiring Performance - Guitar

Bardic Knowledge

Improved Performance

—

There was nothing new on her status screen, but she was used to that. Most people used this screen to keep tabs on their abilities, plan out their builds, and make sure they stayed healthy. One downside, however, was that focusing on this screen for too long induced painful headaches, especially for the more exotic races. For Katrina, this was the primary reason she used her Status screen.

It mentally blocked her vision, obscuring her view of the train car, and the headache helped distract her from the hunger. While she was effectively trading one misery for another, at least the status headache didn't urge her to kill people.

She lost track of time as she stared at her stats. The train would stop and start, passengers coming and going, as Katrina focused on holding out. The headache grew increasingly worse, and as it did so, she found it difficult to focus on where the train was stopping. By the time she'd finally had enough, and closed her Status screen, her train car had completely emptied. When she looked at the LED sign over the exit, she didn't recognize where she was.

Shoot. Must have missed my stop.

She jumped to her feet and ran to the exit, hoping she wasn't too far away from home. Still, even if she were, she could easily fly back.

Walking off the train, she briefly explored the small landing before looking to the neighborhood in front of her. She was definitely further away from the city, and the rows upon rows of houses ahead confirmed she was comfortably in the suburbs. As she looked at the neighborhood in front of her, however, something seemed off. She didn’t see any signs of life, and many of the streets were overgrown with foliage. Floating off the ground, she happily took to the skies as her curiosity took hold. It was her day off, she had her blood, and she had nothing better to do today.

From a higher vantage point, she realized that not only was the entire neighborhood likely deserted, it was more than obvious why. Huge swathes of destruction scarred the landscape, with many of the houses having been completely reduced to rubble. Some of them appeared to have been burned down, others looked as if they’d been crushed by something massive.

As Katrina kept exploring, she found more and more plant life, to a degree that seemed oddly accelerated. The Change had only been 4 years ago, and she doubted nature would have reclaimed this neighborhood so quickly. Weeds abounded, but so too did bushes, small trees, patches of moss, and all manner of flowers. Vines crept in and around the debris of the many destroyed houses, and there even appeared to be a healthy stream cutting through the memories of previously bright green lawns.

She flew even higher, above the majority of the two-story houses, and gasped at what she saw. Close to the center of the neighborhood, towering over everything else nearby, stood a massive cherry blossom tree. Its hundreds of branches held aloft a magnificent tapestry of bright pink flowers, and it looked like there were roughly a dozen particularly thick branches all diverting from the main trunk. Each one cradled a unique plateau of leaves and flowers, many of which had fallen and coated the ground with a beautiful floral carpet.  The trunk itself appeared to have grown out of one of the houses, this one appearing mostly undamaged apart from the corner that had been destroyed to make room for the tree.

After realizing that she’d stopped moving, Katrina flew in closer to marvel at this incredible specimen that had somehow survived the destruction of the neighborhood. As she approached, the occasional flower petal would drift by her, some even landing in her hair and daring to bring some color to her pallid visage. She floated between some of the heavier branches, running her hands over the bark, and eventually decided to take a break and finally dig into her blood.

She settled down on a branch near the main trunk, one that angled up sharply in such a way that she had a wonderful perch to lean against. She breathed in the smell of the tree, happy to be free of the many people that had surrounded her earlier, and opened up her cooler. The seven bags inside were all designed with Races like her in mind, which meant they had small spouts that allowed her access to the blood inside. Essentially, the bags had fancy straws that could also twist closed, should someone not want to finish it all at once.

Katrina happily pulled one out, opened it up, and began to drink.

Immediately, she felt a rush of energy surge through her body. The blood was absolutely delicious, and she swore every undead molecule inside her sang with joy. Warmth spread from her stomach to her limbs, and the ravenous hunger that had been hounding her all day began to quiet. While she would have loved to finish the entire bag, if not the entire cooler, she forced herself to stop. She wanted to enjoy what little she had, to draw it out as long as possible.

Pulling out her phone, she navigated back to her favorite Dungeon news sites. There were a few noteworthy Level Ups, some interesting trades between two of the bigger guilds, but it seemed that progress in the Dungeon itself had stalled somewhat. Currently, everyone was on the hunt for the key to open the next level, but they were often incredibly difficult to find.

Taking another sip, she switched over to the forums where everyone talked about their builds. Everyone was constantly learning new things about the System, and so opinions were frequently changing about the best way to build certain classes. Katrina mostly followed the Bard discourse, as that was her own class, and frequently dreamed of the day she might finally surpass Level 2. If she ever managed to Level Up again, she would finally gain access to Bardic Spellcasting, which was the specialty of her subclass.

Not that I’d ever be in a position to use any spells.

She turned off her phone, setting it in her lap as she leaned her head against the branch behind her. With a heavy sigh, she thought about all the time she’d spent practicing since the Change. How much effort she’d put into perfecting her craft, in the hopes of doing something exciting with her life, only to have everything gatekept by her Race. How was she supposed to inspire a party when, at any moment, she might lose control and attack them? Who in their right mind would put a Vampire in their party in the middle of a blood shortage?

Katrina sighed, taking another slow sip of blood.

Her eyes lingered on the beautiful blossoms surrounding her, decorating the thousands of branches of the tree. To her left, a small branch swayed with the breeze, and she carefully reached out to feel it move, her fingers gently brushing against the deep green leaves before reaching some of the flowers. As the breeze picked up, the entire tree swayed, the leaves joining together as they sang in peaceful, aeolian tones. Katrina’s eyes slowly traced over the branches, the veins of this magnificent tree, and soon landed on the main trunk in front of her.

Curiously, a small collection of cherry blossom petals had gathered in front of her.

That’s odd, was this here before?

The petals, and even a few flowers, seemed to be trapped in a tiny bundle of small leaves and vines. The whole collection cascaded down, eventually parting in the middle, as if they were decorative curtains. Underneath, instead of the rough bark of the tree she might have expected, she saw two, bright green eyes staring back at her. Katrina tensed, and her breathing quickened before this stranger finally spoke up.

“What are you doing in my tree?”

—

That brings our first chapter to a close! I’m very excited to tell this story, so I hope it’s piqued your interest. If you’re particularly interested in the setting, don’t forget to check out the many other stories that have already been published by AiLoves and OtterlyMindblowing. If you’re already hooked, and eager for more of Blood & Chlorophyll, then thank you! I'll do my best to keep you all updated on when to expect future chapters, so keep your eyes peeled for— Hey, what are you—

“Whoa, you live like this?”

How are you even here?

“Oh, be quiet before I turn you into my lunch. Did you seriously have to write in a massive blood shortage? Actually, I don’t care. Is this the audience?”

Um, yeah I supp—

“Hey everyone! Did you enjoy my debut? This is Katrina, obviously, and I’m popping in because, as you may have noticed, I don’t really have anyone to share my music with. I’m going a little stir-crazy, so I figured I could do that with you! For this chapter, I highly recommend listening to Mallorca, Op. 202 by Isaac Albéniz. It’s an incredibly beautiful piece, and it’s one I’ve been playing pretty frequently myself. It’s always evoked a melancholy tone to me, but one that’s tinged with hopefulness, and I think you’re really gonna like it. Sadly, I couldn’t bring my recordings with me, but I found a great rendition that Nyx is going to post below. Anyways, I’ll see you later!”

Well, that was strange. I guess this was the link she was talking about? 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3A1uS2ER-WI

Until next time! Nyx <3