By day, the dread Clampire sleeps dreaming its dark dreams in its wickedly barbed shell, but as darkness falls, one can hear the creak of its calcerous hinges as the ghoul awakens. Hungering for blood, it spreads its fearsome mantle, pulsing with an infernal glow, and flaps into the night like a fiery, gelatinous moth.
Though this diabolical shellfish naturally haunts the crushing depths of the merciless sea, it has been known to migrate as far as the cold mud of a quiet, mountainside creek, bringing with it its grim vassals to wreak havoc upon the naive and defenseless locals.
It is easy to underestimate the Clampire by its sluggish, awkward flight pattern, but the beast can inflict its accursed bite from any distance by its many minute glochidia. Only one of these roving parasitic spawn need embed itself in the flesh of a living host for the monster to establish control over another helpless victim.
To feed, the creature clamps its mantle tightly to its prey and makes a single, small incision with the saw-like tip of its dextrous and muscular foot, allowing blood to flow freely into its great gullet. If attacked, it may withdraw entirely into its nearly impenetrable shell, and can also employ this tough casing as a physical weapon under dire enough circumstances.
Sometimes, a grain of sand or even a fragment of bone from some past meal becomes trapped deep within the Clampire's membranous innards. Over time, it coats this foreign contaminant with blood-laden mucus, creating a curious red pearl said to have many unpredictable physiological side-effects if ingested.
VAMPIRE BITE: the bite of a vampire class drains blood or other vital fluids from living prey while establishing a long-term cerebral connection between vampire and host.
CLAM SHELL: the Clampire can shield itself from harm within its hard, spiny shell.
GLOCHIDIA: the Clampire can deliver its vampiric bite through remotely controlled larviform replicants.
Contents copyright Jonathan Wojcik