by H G Lynch
It was a devastating bloodbath, and Ember felt bile rise in her throat, choking on the stench of so much stale, dead blood. This time, she didn’t have to work to remember she wasn’t human —her senses were sharp as ever, giving her no escape from the brutal details of the scene before her.
Gagging, her eyes stinging, she covered her mouth and nose with her hand and ran into the trees. But the carnage continued in the woods. Archers with their own arrows stabbed through their chests, or decapitated by the vampire-hardened string of their own bows were scattered amongst dead undergrowth. Blood was splattered on trees and dripping from bare thorn bushes. Snow was turned to rivulets of red between the upraised tree roots.
Ember tried not to look at any of it as she stumbled along the pathway, stepping blindly over bloody corpses in her way. Raphael was nowhere to be seen this time, but suddenly, his crows spilled out silently from the trees behind her, flapping their wings as they pursued her ruthlessly.
This wasn’t right. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. It was so unexpectedly, horribly different that she couldn’t find a shred of courage or fury to push away her fear. Tears blurred her vision and made chilled lines down her face. She gasped, the harsh, frigid air burning her throat.
Then, ahead, she saw the same thing she dreaded seeing every night: Those awful, faceless men holding her mutilated, unconscious boyfriend. Only, now, Reid wasn’t unconscious at all. He was staring right at her, shouting something furiously, his eyes full of terror and pain. He thrashed against the grip of the faceless men, but one of those evil bastards shoved a knife into his side, tearing a long gash along his ribs.
Ember tried to scream, watching Reid arch in agony, a line of red seeping into his shredded shirt from the jagged, deep wound. She ran forward as fast as she could, ignoring the danger to herself, forgetting she could burn these bastards from ten feet away. She needed to get Reid away from them. She had to. But when Reid dropped to his knees and saw her running to him, he started screaming at her again, tears running down his bloody face, his matted hair falling haphazardly into his haunted, terrified eyes.
She couldn’t understand what he was saying; there was no noise in this hellish place! Still, she kept running, until several more faceless figures emerged from the trees and grabbed hold of her. She fought against them furiously, recklessly, snapping wrists and fingers, burning charred handprints into the arms of others without even thinking about it.
Then, one of the original faceless men pulled out a stake and pressed the sharp point to Reid’s chest, right over his heart. Ember froze instantly, her heart pounding so hard she was sure it would break her ribs. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t take a breath. Then, under the hood of his cloak, the stake-wielding faceless man grew a mouth. A mouth with sharp, ugly teeth that was grinning sickeningly. It made Ember’s stomach lurch, and her knees gave out. She dropped to the ground, amongst the churned mass of bloody snow, while the other faceless figures kept hold of her shoulders and arms.
For the first time ever, the silence of her nightmare was broken by a sound outside her own mind. The grinning man chuckled darkly. “Come willingly or we’ll kill him,” he chortled, and the others joined in, an orchestra of screeching, evil laughter that made Ember struggle to cover her ears. She couldn’t, not with so many people holding onto her arms and wrists.
Reid looked at her with pleading, terrified eyes that glowed with unshed tears. The sight of him broke her heart into a million little pieces. He was beaten and burned and cut and bloody, his clothes in ragged tatters, his silky hair tangled with blood and melted snow, but the look in his eyes…It scared her more than anything else could.
She was sure her heart stopped for a minute, and the world slowed down, shimmering at the edges. All she could focus on was Reid. As the shimmering encroached on her vision, she heard his voice at last, finally heard what he was screaming. His voice echoed in her head, bouncing around inside her skull.
Ember, they’re here! Don’t come after me! They’re here! Don’t try to save me, please! Just run!
***
She jerked awake, gasping, drenched in sweat and tears, her heart thrashing in her chest. But the nightmare had followed her into reality.
Ember, they’re here! Run! Run now! I love you! I love you! Reid’s voice screamed in her head, loud and full of fear.
Ember clutched her head in her hands, willing the voice away. No. No, this couldn’t be happening! This was the real world! Her nightmare couldn’t be happening.
But it was. The voice in her head was no dreamy echo. It was real. Reid was outside, in the trees, right now. And she had to save him.
She scrambled out of bed, falling onto her hands and knees in a tangle of sheets, and pulled herself hastily to her feet. It took her six painful seconds to turn the door handle with her severely shaking fingers, but as soon as it swung open, she was running down the hall.
She slammed into the front door, and sobbed as she wrangled the key into the lock. The key twisted and the bolt slid with a click. Her throbbing, rapid pulse filled her ears, her heart smashing in her chest.
She jumped out into the foot-and-a-half deep snow without thinking, without hesitating, and ran as fast as she could into the park. She hit a spot of ice hidden under the snow, and slipped, falling and smashing her knee hard against the ground. The pain shot up her leg, and she gasped as she clambered to her feet again. It was snowing heavily, so heavily she could hardly see with the fierce, sharp wind blowing snowflakes like shards of glass into her eyes. Fear choked her as she ran, stumbling, into the trees.
She half-expected to see Raphael sitting in the nearest tree, a flock of crows surrounding him. But there were no crows, and Raphael was nowhere to be seen.
Still, she ran through the trees as if she were being chased, ignoring the branches that pulled at her hair and scratched her face and neck. She felt the hot sting of dead twigs and stones digging into her feet under the snow, kept running, thoughtlessly. Mindlessly. Gasping, choking, terrified.
The sense of horror, of awful déjà vu, was sickening. But, the lack of crows wasn’t the only difference from her nightmare —in reality, there was sound. So much noise. It deafened her; The noise of tree branches clacking, snow crunching, wind screaming through the bare boughs, swing chains whining, the roundabout groaning, her thrashing pulse beating, her rasping breathing. Everything seemed a hundred times louder than it should’ve been. Everything she saw was both sharper and more blurry than usual, fading in and out of focus as tears swam in her eyes.
The sky overhead let down torrents of snow from murky, dark clouds that roiled menacingly. Each twig that snapped under her foot sounded like a gunshot. Each whistle of the wind sounded like the screams of a dying person. She flung her hands over her ears, sobbing, wishing for that eerie silence again. It had to be better than this…this horrible soundtrack of reality.
She screamed as she ran, her voice high and desperate and piercing. “REID! Reid! Reid, please! Where are you! I know you’re here! Reid!” she frantically scanned the darkened trees and bushes. “Please, Reid! Reid!” she screamed, her voice breaking on a sob. “Please, I know you’re here. You’ve got to be here,” she whispered to the trees, spinning as she ran, hoping to catch a glimpse of blond hair or even just a shadow through the blinding haze of snow. Pain and fear and adrenalin pounded through her, driving her to the edge of something she knew would break her down for good. She couldn’t afford that right now. She tried to calm down, tried to push away some of the heart wrenching terror, but it was so, so difficult.
Then she saw it; A figure, emerging from the shadow of one thick tree. She couldn’t make out a face or any defining features in this drifting fog of snow. She could tell from the build, though, that it was a man. A faceless man. Her breath caught and she slapped her hands over her mouth, gritting her teeth so she wouldn’t scream. But a petrified whine escaped her throat anyway. The figure was looking directly at her, one arm outstretched to one side, thou
gh she couldn’t tell why. Her legs refused to carry her any further, every muscle tensing painfully until she shook all over.
It wasn’t until she saw, blurrily through the curtain of snowflakes, the man curl the fingers of his outstretched hand in a gesture she recognised as ‘come here’. It wasn’t directed at her, but at the second figure detaching itself from the thick of more shadows. And it wasn’t alone. This figure was dragging something along the ground carelessly, and threw it recklessly toward the first figure. The first figure grabbed at the…person. It was a person the other figure had been dragging.
Of course, she already knew that. She’d known all along what was coming. It was why she’d run out of the house in her pyjamas, into the blinding haze of snow and wind, ignoring the cuts she got on her feet and face. Because the person kneeling on the ground in front of the two faceless figures, was Reid. Even with sharp crystalline snowflakes clogging her lashes and stinging her face, even with her eyes blurry and wet, even in the dark of night under the wiry canopy of tree boughs, she could see it was him. She could see his golden hair, no longer like a halo around his head, but like a crown of thorns, full of twigs and matted with blood. She could see his t-shirt, torn to shreds, hanging like blood-stained ribbons, not obscuring her view of the huge, violent, livid gashes that marred his perfect chest and stomach. The thick, ugly, red lines crossed over in places, and almost every inch of skin she could see was coated in dark, dark blood. His hands were bound behind his back, probably with some cruel, rune-marked manacles of some sort. His jeans had slashes in them too, all the way up and down his thighs. Just barely, she could see his feet, cut and bleeding —bare foot. They’d taken his shoes.
Worst of all was when he raised his bowed head and saw her. His face was lined with thin cuts that ran over his jaw and cheekbones, his mouth was turned down and trembling with pain, and his eyes were just like they had been in her nightmare. Terrified and disturbed. She got glimpses of what he saw through his eyes; He was projecting his thoughts without meaning to, having no control over what images he was sending her.
Through his eyes, she saw herself standing there in the white downpour of flakes, pyjamas skewed and soaked, blood seeping into the snow around her feet from the cuts. Scratches crisscrossed her face and neck and chest, her eyes and nose were red from crying and from the cold, her hair was a mass of golden tangles floating around her face. Her lips were pale and parted in horror. Her eyes were wide and very blue, shimmering with tears that spilled down her cheeks, haunted and pained and scared.
Then she was seeing through her own eyes again, and her knees gave out. She couldn’t stand any of this…so she didn’t. She sat in the snow, sobbing helplessly, curling her hands around chunks of bloody snow, cutting her hands on buried twigs. Her heart was breaking and hammering at once, her head was spinning but it had stalled, and every part of her ached in terror. “No. No,” she whispered, staring blearily at the snow clutched in her numb fingers. She shook her head, then threw it back to scream at the faceless figures. “NO! No! This isn’t real! You can’t do this! You can’t—” She broke off in a wordless scream, smashing her fists into the snow, the pressure behind her ribs swelling until it was unbearable. “No! This can’t happen! I won’t let it…” she cried, gripping fistfuls of her hair in wet, bloody hands.
“Ember.”
No. No. She couldn’t stand to listen. She clamped her hands over her ears, shaking her head. This wasn’t real. It was another nightmare. She’d wake up in a minute. She had to!
“Ember,” Reid whispered again, his voice broken with despair and pain and fear.
It made her heart twist inside her chest like someone had reached through her ribs and was slowly tightening a clamp around it.
She shuddered. “No!” she shrieked, but it was no use. This time, she knew she wasn’t just going to wake up. She forced her head up, forced herself to look at Reid even though she felt like it would kill her to see him like this and know there was no denying the reality of it. Thoughtlessly, she closed her fingers around the pendant at her throat —she’d gone to sleep with her necklace on, thinking it might help ease her worry over Reid. It hadn’t.
His eyes were so very blue, and so very painful to look at it. His voice shook as he spoke. “Ember. I told you they were here. I told you not to come after me. Why didn’t you listen to me? Why?”
She shook her head, closing her eyes as more tears spilled out. “I had to. I can’t…This can’t happen. Reid, I won’t let it. I won’t! I’d rather die myself than see you—” Her voice cracked and she whipped her head away, unable to hold his gaze.
He made a soft noise awfully close to a choked sob, and when she finally looked back to him, his eyes were shining, his lashes clinging together with tears.
“No. Don’t you dare, Ember, don’t you dare. Get out of here. Go, while you can. I’ll be—”
“I swear to god if you say you’ll be fine, I’ll scream. You won’t be fine, Reid! You won’t! I know it! I can’t let you get hurt anymore, I can’t stand it! I can’t stand looking at you like this, right now! Reid, it’s killing me!” She looked up at the faceless monsters standing over Reid. “Let him go! Let him go, you fucking bastards! I’ll come with you! I’ll come with you! Let him go! Don’t hurt him anymore, please! Please!” she pleaded brokenly, her wet, tangled hair falling into her face. Her chest was about to explode, and she clutched her arms round herself to hold it together.
“Ember, No! You stay away from her, you sick sons of bitches! If you touch her, I swear on the devil, I will—” Reid yelled, his eyes turning to molten silver, his fangs growing so long they sliced his lip. But then the first faceless man reached for something at his belt, and before Ember could move, he shoved a knife into Reid’s side.
Ember screamed. She screamed so loud and so long she was sure someone would call the police. Every bit of her nightmare was happening, and she couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She could only ache and scream and cry, watching Reid spasm in excruciating pain as fresh blood blossomed and spilled down his ribs. She heard him yell in agony, and tore some of her hair out by the roots, digging furrows into her scalp with her nails as she tried to block the sound.
A dark, malevolent laugh echoed from the trees, and several figures stepped out from nowhere. A handful of them moved to grab Ember, and she didn’t budge, didn’t even think of trying to fight them off. If it would get Reid out of here safely, before they could hurt him anymore, she’d go anywhere with them, willingly, quietly.
One of the figures waved a hand at the first two, and they backed away from Reid. The new figure placed one hand on Reid’s torn shoulder, and flipped his hood back with the other. Ember wasn’t surprised in the least to see the grey hair and sharp eyes and thin-rimmed spectacles of the professor.
“Well now, Ember. It’s nice to see you again. I’m sorry our meeting had to be under such unpleasant circumstances but, you see, after what you did to my little army last night, I had to ensure you wouldn’t go on a homicidal rampage against me.” The professor chuckled, like he found all of this incredibly amusing.
Hot fury boiled up inside her and she clawed her fingers into the snow, sharp pains shooting through her fingertips as bits of sticks and rocks stabbed under her nails.
“Uh-uh. I suggest you calm down, Ember. Or else, something nasty might happen to your beloved boyfriend here.” Professor Oliver flashed a smile at the same time as he produced a glinting blade from his jacket pocket. She hissed and snarled and the snow under her hands melted and turned to steam that rose from the ground.
“You son of a bitch! You evil bastard! Don’t you touch him! Don’t you fucking touch him! I’ll kill you! I swear to God, I’ll kill you!” she shrieked, shakily getting to her feet, her hair hanging limply over her face. She felt her eyes burning with molten fire, her fists at her sides trembling.
Reid struggled against his bindings violently. “No! Ember, don’t! They’ll hurt y
ou, too! Don’t!” he yelled, his eyes frantic.
Ember didn’t listen; she didn’t care if they hurt her. So long as they didn’t touch him again, they could do whatever they wanted to her. It was easier to die than to watch someone die. She’d learned that the hard way, watching Sherry die and thinking she’d lost her best friend forever.
Sucking up heat from all around her, she sent a blast of heat spiralling out from herself, and three hooded figures burst into flames. Several more crowded over her, trying to hold her down, pressing knives to her throat and shoulders. She barely felt the pain of the cuts as she thrashed against them, flames flaring up on her palms, hearing little bones crack and snap as people yelled in pain, listening to skin sizzling.
Someone managed to grab one of her hands and, before she could pull away or burn them, closed some sort of metal cuff around her wrist. She felt the magic drain from that hand, pushing against the barrier the cuff produced, but she couldn’t get the magic through. The cuff stunted her magic. And it burned her wrist. The runes carved into the metal weren’t meant to kill, but to burn like acid.
While she was startled and disoriented over this new development, someone snapped another cuff round her other wrist, and killed her flames altogether. She screamed wordlessly in rage and frustration. But she found she could still transfer heat to other places, and laughed maniacally as two more figures went up in flames, screaming all the way to the snow.
“Quick! The potion! Someone get the needle!” The professor boomed over all the racket of yells and shrieks.
Uh oh. Now that was the wrong thing to say within earshot of Ember.
Even Reid momentarily forgot to fight his restrains —three more people were holding him down, prodding at him with knives and stakes to keep him down — and she heard him let out a low whistle, then, “Duuuuude, you’re going to die,” Reid even laughed, though it sounded strained with pain.
