You know, with everything else cosmically wild that had happened today, the existence of vampires felt almost like the universe was taking a little siesta from the chaos. The alarms finally stopped blaring, leaving us in a silence that was somehow more unsettling. The vampire stepped from the shadows like he was auditioning for a holo-horror flick, all wild hair and a grin that said he knew way too much about blood. And the kicker? Headphones around his neck, blasting Lemmy from Motörhead growling out “Ace of Spades.”

A vampire in space listening to 20th-century heavy metal... of course. My fingers inched toward my pistol, a reflex I’d developed out here in the stars. If there’s one thing I’d learned, it’s that when the weird gets weirder, it’s best to be armed.

“So,” I said finally, “just another day at the office for you? Zombies, stray journalists… all in a day’s work?”

He looked at me, still grinning. “Aye, you hit the nail on the head, lass.” He slid his enormous longsword into the scabbard across his back, twirling it like it weighed no more than a feather. Seeing our stunned expressions, he added with a wink, “Don’t worry. I’m not planning on devouring you two. Already had my fill from the rat who was sneaking around like a sniveling rodent.”

Jeez. If that guy had just run away like we’d thought, he might’ve actually caught us off guard. But luck, or our mysterious friend, had intervened.

“And… who might you be, friend?” Leon asked warily.

The vampire smiled wide. “Name’s Oswald MacDougal, but call me Ollie.” He looked like he’d just stepped off the stage of a thrash metal concert, blood-stained tartan pants, a black leather jacket covered in patches, and a worn Walkman clipped to his belt. He hadn’t aged a day, but his eyes held the look of someone who’d stared down his own personal hell and came back out its fiery anus with a grin and a thirst for vengeance.

Leon eyed him with curiosity. “Tell me, Ollie, how does a Human Augment like yourself manage to make it all the way out to Velstrazda V?”

It was a good question. Ollie didn’t exactly scream “space traveler,” and he wasn’t wearing the gear or optics we’d need to get here. But now that I thought about it, someone with his attributes probably wouldn’t need the same space-travel assistance we do.

Ollie’s eyes glinted. “Well, I was minding my own business at a Glasgow dive bar one night, lugging gear for some band. Wondering if the pub was still open, and next thing I know, I’m falling through a rip in reality and wake up in this damn death trap. That was twenty years ago, give or take. Ever since, I’ve been stranded here, picking off zombies and living off whatever poor sod decides to wander in. Not exactly the career path I’d envisioned.”

I couldn’t help but stare. “Wait, so you were just… a roadie in Glasgow? And then what? Fell through some cosmic trapdoor?”

He snorted. “Aye. Some back-alley portal outside a club gig. Thought I’d landed in a dingy Glasgow pub basement. Next thing I know, I’m in the middle of this undead playground.” He adjusted his sword. “Now, if you two want to make it out of here alive, best stick to me like flies on shite.” Ollie motioned for us to follow as he headed down the corridor, Leon and I exchanging a weary glance before tagging along.

Once we got closer to the rumbling sounds, I turned to Leon. “So… you called him a ‘Human Augment’? He’s obviously a vampire.”

Leon’s lips twitched into a thin smile. “Vampire’s just the local myth. His kind? Solarian Augments, hybrids spliced with DNA from an extinct dark-matter entity. The result? That.”

I raised an eyebrow, half-laughing. “So werewolves, vampires, witches… all just alien science experiments? The bogeyman was some Strexian lab flunky?”

Leon nodded grimly. “The Domiculus Academy liked control but worked subtly. They seeded fear, engineered monsters like this one to keep villages terrified. Myths became tools. Fear drove people into religions, governments, safe little pens where the Domiculus pulled the strings.”

“So, legends like vampires were just prototypes? What about the rest, everything else humanity feared?” Ollie chimed in.

“Most of it,” Leon admitted. “Some were experiments. Some were Domiculus tech acting amok, Earth’s mountains house their hidden engines, creating DNA anomalies and recording humanity’s every step.”

I muttered, more to myself than anyone else, “So all our myths, religions, and monsters, just cosmic pet projects.”

Ollie chuckled. “I used to think my life was madness, y’know, late nights, loud music, cheap drinks. Just a warm-up act for the real show.” He gave a sardonic laugh. “Now I’m front-row to a cosmic joke only the dead can appreciate.”

Leon rolled his eyes at Ollie’s cynical tone. “See, this is why vampires are insufferable. You all think you’re in on some big cosmic joke. Try living in the real galaxy for once, Ollie, where the stakes aren’t so… eternal.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, Leon. I’m laughing, sure, but the punchline’s always the same. Hear it a few thousand times, it stops being funny.” He gave me a grim look. “Truth is, I relate to those zombies out there more than I’d like. Humans think life’s a grand tragedy, too fragile to see it’s just… cosmic slapstick. You die, we live, the Strexians run, and I’m left laughing from the sidelines.”

“Thanks, Ollie, that’s real comforting.” i manage to choke out

His expression softened a bit. “Hey, I get it. You’re mortal; you’ve got to believe in something. And if it helps you sleep at night, cling to it. Just don’t expect me to play along.”...