THE WALDOVERSE ARCHIVES

lounge

Morning Sickness

The following takes place following: Mass Murder on the Dancefloor

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BREAKING: Massacre at University Bar Leaves 27 Dead — Is Waldobury Under Siege by VAMPIRES?

By Brian Cavendish, Waldopolis Chronicle Online

A horrific bloodbath struck the Wünderkind Warriors student bar on the Waldonian University campus last night, leaving twenty-seven dead in a scene of unspeakable carnage.

An unnamed police source told the Chronicle that the victims appeared to have been locked inside before suffering severe neck wounds and drained of their blood— details eerily similar to recent killings in Waldobury Heights.

With weeks of unexplained disappearances and “animal attacks” baffling investigators, speculation is mounting: could vampires be behind this wave of death?

As authorities scramble for answers, Waldobury may be facing its darkest hour yet. Panic is spreading across the city as residents brace for the possibility that our town has become a hunting ground for the undead.

Stay tuned to the Chronicle for exclusive updates as we continue to uncover the truth behind these chilling killings.

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Despite Master Devlin's objections, Travers ordered Brian to write up the sensationalist story for the Waldopolis Chronicle Online, breaking the alleged vampire connection to the Wünderkind Warriors massacre. Within minutes, the news spread like wildfire across social media, resulting in record sales and traffic for their website. Within hours, dozens of copycat articles from other major publications were all over the internet, each more hysterical than the last.

Feeling impressed with a good day's journalism, Travers headed out for a celebratory evening at The Sass Hole. He arrived and slipped in through the tiny VIP side door built specially for him. The place was unusually quiet. Chantelle, the owner, came over to greet him.

Chantelle: “Hey there, sugar! I knew we could count on you showing up at least.”

Travers: “Hey, Chani... Little slow tonight, huh?”

Chantelle: “You’re telling me. Even some of my girls texted to say they ain’t comin’ in tonight. They’re all scared to go out after dark with this spooky-ass vampire shit. I kinda don’t blame ’em, to be honest...”

Travers: “Pfft. Vampires. Don’t believe everything you read in the paper, doll... Anyway—how about you and Travers round up a couple of the girls who did show, and we’ll have ourselves a little private party in the champagne room. What do you say?”

Chantelle: “You bet, sugar...”

Several hours—and a variety of loud, grinding auto shop noises—later, Travers, reeking of booze, spilled out of The Sass Hole and into the cold night. Chantelle picked him up, gave him a big kiss, then set him back down and patted him on the head.

Chantelle: “Come back soon, sugar...”

He nodded enthusiastically, staggering down the street in a clumsy, drunken dance.

The air was heavy with unease, as if the town itself were holding its breath. Neon signs flickered above him as he stumbled through the darkened streets of Chinatown and Little Italy—oblivious to the growing sense of someone, or something, watching.

As Travers wound his way through Waldminster, the atmosphere shifted. Shadows lengthened. The quiet became oppressive. He began to feel eyes on him, glancing over his shoulder, but each time he saw only empty streets.

Finally, he reached his old law firm—now his home—in Waldgate. Just as he fumbled with his keys, a sudden chill froze him in place.

Behind him stood Fiona Malone, dressed in a low-cut black dress and leather jacket, her smile dangerously alluring.

Travers: “Felicia!... Is that you?”

Fiona: “Hey there, sexy...”

Travers (slurring): “F-Felic—Or should I say... F-Fiona? Fiona... Malone... Where in Ed’s name have you been? The whole town’s been lookin’ for you.”

She smirked, acknowledging his realisation.

Fiona: “Finally figured it out, then?” she purred. “I’ve been around. Just needed to get outta town for a bit — clear me head, you know? But now I’m back, and I feel better than ever. In fact...” (she leans in close) “...I’m feeling a bit peckish. Thought my favorite customer might fancy a late-night oil change. Free of charge.”

Travers, never one to refuse such an offer, nodded with a drowsy grin.

Fiona (whispering): “So... care to invite me in?”

Travers: “Sure... absolutely.”

Fiona’s predatory grin widened as the scene faded to black.

****

The next day, at the Waldopolis Chronicle office, Master Devlin glanced at his watch, a frown creasing his brow. Just then, Ermintrude walked into the room, clutching a stack of files.

Ermintrude: “I’ve got the reports you requested, Master Devlin.”

Master Devlin: “Ah, yes. Thank you, Ermintrude. Any word from Travers?”

Ermintrude: “No. I’m a little worried. It’s not like him to be this late.”

Just as the Master is about to go out and look for him, a hungover-looking Travers stumbles into the office — unkempt, wearing yesterday’s shirt, a thick layer of stubble surrounding his moustache. He’s also wearing sunglasses, which he doesn’t take off.

Travers: “Good morning, everyone…”

Ermintrude: “It’s afternoon, Mr Travers. We were starting to worry. Are you okay?”

Travers: “Oh, fine, fine… just partied a little too hard last night… drinks were half-price at the Sass Hole… Ermintrude, be a dear and close those blinds, please…”

They watch a weary Travers unsuccessfully try to climb up onto his chair before lethargically sitting on the floor, defeated. Without a word, Ermintrude kindly helps him up, placing the little goblin on the chair before going to close the blinds.

Ermintrude: “Can I get you anything else, boss?”

He points to the bottle of Goblin Brand Bourbon across his desk.

Travers: “A little hair of the dog is in order, I think.”

Ermintrude brings him the bottle. He takes it in both hands, raises it like a baby, and starts guzzling.

Master Devlin: “You look like shit, Travers.”

Travers: “Master Devlin, please refrain from speaking out of turn right now. I’m not in the mood to spar with you.”

Ermintrude: “He’s right, boss. You don’t look well. Sort of pale – less green than usual.”

Travers: “Your concern is appreciated but out of turn. I’m fine. Traverses never get sick…”

The Master continues to study his papers.

Master Devlin: “We’re now in that critical phase where, based on the other victims, Fiona Malone is likely to be found dead any day now. I was planning to go up the hills and camp out tonight to see if there are any sightings.”

Travers: “Fine. Fine.”

Master Devlin: “Do you want to come, Travers?”

Travers nods unenthusiastically as he pours more booze into a glass. He then casually takes off his moustache, swirls it in the drink, and sucks the liquor from it. The Master winces in disgust. Travers attempts to reattach the moustache, but it just falls to the floor with a wet splat. He waves it away dismissively.

Master Devlin: “What’s the matter with you? You were very keen to find Fiona, but now you seem uninterested and put out. Don’t you care anymore?”

Travers: “I do care… but she could be anywhere. You propose we go camping in the hills? Fine. I’ll come along, but I don’t expect to see anything.”

Master Devlin: “Hrmm. You’re behaving out of turn, Travers. What’s going on?”

Travers: “Well, I’ll admit… part of me is a little nervous… What if Wally’s demon bird is real? That’s supposedly its nesting ground.”

He leans in to whisper so Ermintrude doesn’t hear.

Travers: “And, well… let’s just say I’m not feeling my best right now. Little under the weather.”

Master Devlin: “Fine then, you don’t have to come. I’ll go alone.”

Travers: “Now just a minute, Master Devlin. I can’t allow that. Travers will not be left out. It’s simply out of turn…”

Master Devlin: “Hrrmmm.”

****

Later that night, high in the Waldobury Hills, on the edge of Stanley Forest, Brian Cavendish sat scrolling through alarming news articles about the recent murders and the supposed vampire threat on his smartphone.

Brian: “Things are getting crazy in town. I can’t help blaming myself for writing that first article mentioning vampires, even though you told me to. It wasn’t right. We’ve started a panic.”

Travers took a bite of a marshmallow.

Travers: “Put the phone away, Kyle. We’re out here in nature. Enjoy it! Enjoy the night air… I know I am. I feel reinvigorated out here.”

Brian: “You do look a lot better compared to this afternoon.”

Travers: “Damn straight! There’s nothing like the crisp night to make you feel like a new goblin!”

Travers gives Brian a wild, slightly unsettling smile.

Brian: “Um… boss… did you do something with your teeth? Your fangs look… bigger than normal…”

Travers: “Don’t be ridiculous, Kyle. I don’t need to do anything — Travers already has excellent teeth. Hell, I don’t even have to brush them if I don’t want to. But thank you for noticing.”

Suddenly a wolf’s howl startles Brian. He frowns, unease creeping into his voice.

Brian: “This place gives me the creeps. I still don’t know why you made me come here… I hate camping…”

Travers: (grinning) “It’s quite simple, Kyle. You’re bait. But don’t worry — I’ll protect you. And besides, if it makes you feel better, Master Devlin and Goblin Slayer aren’t far away.”

He gestures up the hill.

Meanwhile, higher in the woods, Master Devlin sat quietly, scanning for signs of activity. This wasn’t exactly what he’d planned when he proposed the stake-out. To make matters worse, he sat with a silent rage building as Waldo — who had invited himself along — kept nudging him, trying to get his attention. Nearby, the Queen’s best warrior and head of the palace guard, Goblin Slayer, moved stealthily through the underbrush.

Goblin Slayer: “See anything?”

Master Devlin: “No, because this annoying shit won’t stop pestering me.” (turns to Waldo) “Widdle Frunkut, will you stop that!? Go sit with Travers and Brian!”

wF: “Nope!”

Master Devlin: “Excuse me??”

Suddenly, a man’s scream echoes from down the hill.

Master Devlin: “It’s coming from the camp!”

The Master and Goblin Slayer race down to find Brian clutching his neck, blood dripping between his fingers. Travers sits nearby, perplexed by the commotion.

Master Devlin: “What happened?”

Brian: “Mr Travers just… bit me!”

He removes his hand to reveal the wound.

Travers: “What?? Don’t be preposterous, Kyle. You’re hallucinating out of turn.”

Brian: “I’m not! It’s true! We were talking, then he started acting weird and asked what I tasted like. Then he lunged at me and bit me!”

Travers: “Pay no attention to Kyle, Master Devlin. His mind is playing tricks on him and he’s speaking out of turn. He’s done nothing but whine about his silly superstitions all evening.”

Master Devlin: “Really, Travers? Then why is his neck bleeding — and why is your mouth and moustache covered in blood?”

Travers: “What the hell are you talking about? Ed dammit, Kyle… you’ve gone and infected Master Devlin with your fear-mongering…”

The Master holds up a mirror.

Master Devlin: “Look at yourself, man.”

Travers: “Yes, well obviously Travers is covered in blood and it’s disgusting… but that’s because Kyle cut himself shaving right next to me. Must’ve nicked an artery or something.”

Without thinking, Travers takes off his moustache and sucks the blood from it before reattaching it. Everyone recoils.

Travers: “By the way, Master Devlin, you need a new mirror. That one’s broken — I could barely see my reflection at all. Travers is practically see-through… which is preposterous… Travers isn’t a ghost… or fire… What? What’re you all staring at?”

Travers turns away and tries to subtly lick his lips.

Brian: “I don’t feel so good…”

Travers: “Anyway, let’s just go home. This was a terrible idea, Master Devlin. People are dying…”

Master Devlin: “That’s why we’re up here — to try and catch the killer in the act.”

Travers notices the sunrise.

Travers: “Look! The sun’s coming up! Time to get back home… Besides, Kyle looks like he needs a doctor, so… come on, no time to lose!”

Travers starts running anxiously down the hill. The others follow. As the sun rises, Travers grows pale and weak, eventually having to be carried.

Master Devlin: “You claim not to get sick, but you certainly look lethargic, Travers. In fact, you’ve been acting odd all day.”

Travers: “I’m fine. Just tired, is all...” 😴

Master Devlin: “Oh dear…”

wF: “Perhaps the bossman needs a doctor too! We can take over the Chronicle for today!”

Master Devlin: “Goblin Slayer, would you mind taking Brian to see Dr Crusher? I’ll take Travers home. Tell her to feed him some garlic bread… just as a precaution. On second thought, I’ll take Travers to the council grounds.”

Travers: “No!”

Master Devlin: “No?”

Travers: “No… I wanna go home… my own bed… non-negotiable… right now.” 😴😴

The Waldoverse continues in The Escape Goat