Freedom From the Evil Dead

by Mary Abshire

  My heart pounded while fear consumed me. The majority found it acceptable to end a vampire's existence because of me. Not just any vampire, but one who had been nothing but loyal to them until he met me. How could they so easily vote to exterminate him?

  I looked at Nassar, Constantine, and Sophia. Nassar was the leader and, while he was the enemy, I sensed his hesitation to support his group's wishes. Constantine was as old as Nassar, both turned before Christ. I was willing to bet he favored restraint as much as Nassar. Sophia was older than Drake, but she also had a fondness for him. Eyes on the table, it appeared she struggled with her decision.

  "Sophia," Quon said, collecting her attention.

  "Eliminate the threat, then do what you want with her," she said, then lowered her head.

  I took a step back and looked at Drake. He stood proudly as if he was ready to give up his existence. How could he when I needed him?

  "Constantine, Nassar," Quon said. "Do you agree there is a threat among us?"

  "There is a threat," Constantine said.

  "I do not support ending Drake's immortality," Nassar said. "It's foolish. You'll not seek any answers or satisfaction from her if you destroy him."

  Viktor rose slowly. "Can you agree he his a threat?"

  Nassar stared at Viktor.

  Quon leaned over the table. "He willingly accepts the consequences of her actions. Why not let him?"

  Some nodded while others vocalized their agreement. The entire turn of events had happened so fast. I couldn't believe it. It seemed to unreal that they were deciding to destroy Drake.

  "Nassar," Viktor said. "He agreed."

  Nassar shot up. "Fine."

  "No!" I screamed as Nassar strode toward the door. "No, you can't! He doesn't deserve this!"

  Drake gripped my arms and turned me to face him. "This has to be done."

  I shoved his hands off me. "No! You can't do this to me! I need you!"

  He captured my face in his hands. "I will always love you."

  The members closed in around us. Drake pressed his lips to mine, but the kiss didn't last long.

  "Let's go," Quon said, gesturing toward the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Gripping my arms, Constantine practically carried me from the building while I screamed, writhed, and kicked. We headed down a dirt path to an area I'd never been before on the far side of the Fort. Viktor stayed close by me, along with Isabel. The others walked ahead with Drake. My lover held his composure, unlike me. Quon kept his hand on Drake's shoulder. Did he really think Drake would try to run? They were evil to the bone and I loathed every one of them.

  We neared a small cliff, then continued down a small path along the side. I gave up yelling and fighting since that had done nothing for me but given me a hoarse voice. Below the cliff was a large circle of stones, seventy-five percent of a circle anyway, about three feet tall. Small gaps in the wall made me suspect the structure had been used for artillery. The stones would've provided ample protection against oncoming shots.

  Security lights flashed on as Drake and the others approached the circle. I couldn't see what was in the center, but something tall stood up. Nassar stood with his arms crossed outside the stone structure. The tightness of his face led me to believe he wasn't pleased. He was still an evil bastard. He wasn't doing a damn thing to save Drake.

  Quon led Drake to the center of the circle while the rest of the group fanned out around the back. As Constantine brought me inside, light reflected of the shiny top of the tall structure before Drake. My eyes widened and my heart pounded more fiercely. Drake was standing in front of a guillotine.

  Constantine brought me to a halt near the side, far enough away from Drake.

  "Take her to the front," Viktor said as he approached. "She'll have a better view."

  He gripped my arm, then tugged me from Constantine. I struggled to free myself from Viktor's grasp even though I knew I couldn't. I just couldn’t tolerate the creep touching me. He stopped me a few feet in front of the guillotine.

  "Drake!" I screamed.

  I couldn't believe this was happening. After everything we'd been through, I never had thought they'd so easily want to end his existence. I’d killed two of their members. I’d sent their souls to damnation. Why were they making him pay the price? Why had he volunteered to accept punishment on my behalf?

  I knew the answer to the last question. His love for me had no boundaries. He thought he was saving me. But they'd never let me go. They'd kill me eventually. Did he know and he couldn't handle it? He would've caused them problems. He was a threat because he would've done anything to stop them from harming me. Proof delivered with Dimitry's demise.

  Drake kneeled on the other side of the guillotine. He was calm. He was at peace. I was the complete opposite. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I screamed again and again.

  He looked up at me. "I'll always love you, Jessie."

  Viktor stood behind me and held both my arms while I twisted and tugged against his hold.

  "Please, stop! Please!" I yelled.

  Drake leaned forward and placed his neck within the semi-circle. Quon untied the rope on the side of the guillotine, then held it.

  I screamed as hard as I could for as long as I could. Quon let go of the rope and the sharp blade shot straight down. The wood smacked together. Drake's head rolled onto the ground. My legs gave out as darkness swallowed me.

  * * *

  The sound of the door opening brought my eyelids up. I was lying on my side, arms over my ribs, in the bed of my cell, facing the wall. Hate and anger devoured me the way a fire eats everything in its path. I wanted revenge. I wanted them all to burn in Hell. Father, give me strength, I repeated over and over again in my head.

  Behind me, the chair scooted over the floor. I refused to move. I refused to eat. I wouldn't give any of them what they wanted.

  "Jessie, we need to talk," Nassar said.

  I stared at the white wall and squeezed my arms together.

  "I couldn't do anything," Nassar said. "He agreed…"

  I swallowed the words wanting to burst from me. The fucker could have done something, anything to stop them from decapitating Drake.

  "He did the noble thing. He sacrificed his immortality for you. Not many vampires have ever done that."

  Misery returned and clenched my heart. Drake had always been noble and brave. And that was his weakness. The good ones always suffered the most and died first.

  "You must think the worst of us, of me," Nassar said.

  I wanted to laugh.

  "We've given you every reason to despise us."

  I couldn't have agreed more.

  "Hatred can turn a soft heart to stone. I've seen it far too much," he said.

  I inhaled a deep breath and wondered why he was trying to befriend me now after Drake was gone. What reason? Then I recalled how they wanted my blood and to study me. I would live longer if I cooperated. Fuck that shit.

  "Think what you will of me, but I do not want to see you suffer. I've seen enough bloodshed and misery," he said.

  I considered reminding him that's what he had to offer to the world. As a vampire, he inflicted pain and suffering. Every one of them needed to burn in Hell. If by some miracle I survived, I was making it a mission to send them to my father. Dad would take good care of their souls.

  The chair scraped over the floor.

  "You should eat something. It's been two days. If you don't eat something soon, they'll feed you intravenously," he said.

  They were going to get what they wanted regardless if I cooperated or not. Death was going to claim me. The question was when. I hoped for a quick end, but in reality, I figured I'd have to suffer more. After all, I had to give the bloodsuckers what they craved.

  The lock on the door clicked, then I heard the taps of his shoes grow distant.

  Alone again, I closed my teary eyes. The grief in my heart swelled and I cried. I couldn't stop thinking about Drake. We'd shared such
a perfect moment before his demise. I should've suspected something bad would happen. For every good thing, there was a bad one to follow. The cycle in life.

  Now he was gone. I never got a chance to see if his soul went to Heaven because I'd passed out. How stupid was I? He'd always believed he would go upstairs instead of down because of his good deeds. I hoped he was right and I regretted that I would never know the answer.

  His loss created a big hole in my heart that quickly filled with anger. I hated how he left me alone to die. He'd said he loved me, but if he had, he wouldn't have left me so quickly, so effortlessly. It was as if he sensed the pending doom and checked out early. What kind of man did that? If he loved me, he would've persevered with me. Through thick and thin, love was the glue that held two people together. But no, he’d left me.

  Sniffling, I wiped my face and rolled onto my back. I was tired of weeping, exhausted from heartache, and bored with waiting. I hungered for revenge, but knew I may not get it in my current life. Even with death knocking on my door soon, it didn't stop me from thinking about vengeance every minute of the day.

  The aroma of beef stew filled my cell. I turned my head and looked at the desk. A new tray of food waited for me. Steam drifted from the bowl. My stomach made a gurgling noise. Two days without any substance had started to take a toll on me. My head ached and I felt weak. How long would it take to starve? Too long, but I decided to give it a try.

  I rolled onto my side, facing the wall. If death wanted me, he could have me.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  An intense cramp in my abdomen woke me. Tense, I brought my knees up to lie in a fetal position. More pain struck my stomach and I held my breath. When I heard the snap from the lock, I exhaled. The temperature dropped dramatically and I quivered. Soft metal clangs sparked my curiosity. Slowly, I lowered my legs, then rolled onto my back. Viktor stood at the head of my makeshift bed and Isabel stood near my feet. A gurney waited nearby. Fuck!

  I leaned forward, but Viktor caught me under my arms. Isabel sprang for my feet. Together, they lifted me from the bed to the gurney. I kicked and twisted, trying to get out of their hold. The little bit of strength I had left was no match against them. Isabel placed straps around my ankles while Viktor worked to restrain one of my wrists. With my free hand, I clawed at his face and drew blood. My method of attack helped.

  "Bitch," he spat, then let go of the strap before he'd secured it.

  I tugged my arm free, then shoved him, hoping I'd throw him off balance. He didn't even budge. But he did swing the back of his hand and smack my face. My ears rang and cheek burned. I bit my chapped lip when my head hit the gurney. A coppery taste landed on my tongue.

  "Nice touch," Isabel said.

  "Bitch scratched me," the Russian said as he secured one of my wrists.

  The room spun while the ringing in my ears gradually lessened. I licked the metallic fluid my lip and almost laughed. Was this the best he could do—slap my face? Why couldn't he put a knife in me? It would save him the trouble of fighting me and send me to my final destination a lot quicker.

  After Isabel secured my other wrist, Viktor pushed the gurney out of the cell. I kicked, or tried to, but the straps were tight. Fists clenched, I tugged my arms. They didn't move either.

  Viktor rolled me down the hall to the medical room I'd been in so many times to donate blood. Both doctors wore gloves. Masks covered most of their faces. The gurney stopped underneath a bright light. I squinted until my eyes adjusted.

  The young doctor rolled a pole with an IV bag toward me, then stopped it behind my head. My pulse raced while sweat poured from me. On the other side of me, I spotted a tray with a variety of pointy blades in various sizes. Another tray had empty tubes, petri dishes, and even larger clear containers. So this was it. They were going to cut me up into pieces to study me. Wasn't life grand?

  Grunting, I pulled as hard as I could on all the restraints. I knew they wouldn't give. My goal was to weaken myself. I didn't want to feel pain. I wanted a quick end. If the vamps had their way, they'd drag my miserable life out as long as they could.

  The young doc took the end of the tube leading away from bag and tried to insert it into my arm. My jerky movements prevented him from achieving his goal.

  Viktor grumbled as he walked around the gurney. He placed one hand on my forearm and his other on my muscle. While he held me still, the doc pushed the needle in my vein. He grabbed tape from a nearby tray, then placed it over the tube feeding into me.

  "There now," Viktor said with a grin. "That's better."

  I took a deep breath, then spat in Viktor's face. "Much better."

  He swung his hand and smacked my face again. "Fucking bitch."

  Isabel laughed. "Maybe you need to wear a mask too if you're going to get that close to her."

  The throbbing in my head returned along with the ringing in my ears. My cheek stung and more blood coated my lips.

  The door flew open and someone rushed in. My vision was too twisted and blurry for me to see the person clearly.

  "What's going on?" Nassar asked.

  "We're starting our research," Viktor said.

  "You did not inform us you would be starting so soon," Nassar said.

  "We told Quon and Ramon," Isabel said. "Ask them if you don't believe us."

  I chuckled and Nassar moved closer to my side where the tube wasn't connected. "What's so funny?" he asked.

  "Let them do it," I said.

  He placed his hand on my forearm. His cool energy quickly spread over me and I jerked to get away from him.

  "Don't touch me!"

  He did as I said and stepped back. "Jessie—"

  "Go fuck yourself."

  "Whoa, she's got a mouth on her," Viktor said.

  I shifted my gaze to him. "I may not claim your soul in this life, but I will eventually." I looked at Isabel. "And yours." Then, I looked at Nassar. "And yours. Every bloodsucker will meet my father. You'll see."

  I hadn't completed the ritual for my soul to be sent back, but they didn't know that. The evil fucks knew about my mother's death, but they never questioned me about the ceremony. Not that I was worried. Even in death, I was confident I could strike a deal with the devil to come back. Determination filled me. Somehow, I'd find a way to return.

  Viktor pointed to the young doctor. "Cut her open." His thick Russian tone held no mercy.

  I turned my head and looked at the ceiling. For a change, I had no fear. And for the first time since I'd arrived years ago, I felt free. I wasn't running or hiding. The vamps could do what they wanted and I didn't care. I knew where I was going and I was confident dear old dad would send me back once I bargained with him. Let them take their pieces of me. But what I found unusual was the fact that the disturbance in my belly had completely disappeared. There was no pain or any fire. I felt nothing.

  "No!" Viktor snapped, and I looked at him. He strode toward the old doc standing next to me and snatched the syringe from his hand. "She stays awake."

  "Viktor," Nassar said. "At least let her sleep."

  "Get on with it already," I said. "I've got plans." I tapped the sides of my toes together similar to the way Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz brought her heels together.

  The older doctor picked up a pair of razor sharp scissors. Starting from the top of my dress, he sliced down as if he were cutting butter. The young doctor, on the other side of me, pushed the cloth aside, leaving me exposed with my underwear and bra, until the old doc cut the thin piece of material between my boobs. The young doctor freed my breasts and, needless to say, I felt the chill.

  The two doctors spoke in German, then the old doc turned away from me briefly. He returned with a scalpel in hand. Finding a starting point on the upper part of my chest, he pressed the sharp edge of the knife into my flesh. He dragged the blade down and stopped a little below my belly button. Warm fluid spilled from the cut in my sore flesh.

  After the old man finished, the young one moved to one of the tray
s near him. He lifted something, then I heard the sound of a drill spinning. My heart accelerated. Yes, I was ready to die, but I wasn't prepared for them to saw me in half. Fuck me.

  The young doc moved toward me with a tool in his hand. A small, steel saw blade was connected to the end of the instrument. Staring up, I took several quick breaths. I knew the pain of being stabbed, but split wide open with a saw had to give a new definition to the word pain.

  I shifted my gaze to Nassar. I wanted to remember every detail of his face so I could find him when I came back. The vampire stared at me with grief and regret lurking in his eyes. Strange, I thought, but it didn't change anything.

  The fast buzzing sound of the blade made me tense. Fists clenched and lips pressed together, I prepared myself for the agony heading my way. The doc lowered the spinning blade near my chest. My heart rapped so strongly I thought it would leap from my body after they opened me up. I stared up as the sting of blade cut into me, then went deeper and hit bone. Blood splattered my neck. The buzz turned into a low hum as the blade chipped away at my ribs. Oddly, the tearing of my flesh didn't hurt, but the splitting of my bones made me wish they'd shot me in the head. My body blazed with heat. Demon bones healed, and that's what they wanted to do.

  The doc continued slicing me open. He dragged the spinning blade down my torso. I kept still and clenched my teeth together. The vibrations from the blade on my bones made it up to my teeth and they chattered slightly. Tears ran from the corners of my eyes as I stared at the bright light. Or was it sweat? I wasn't sure. My entire body felt wet and I was hotter than I’d ever felt before in my life. The light blurred and my mind floated. When the sawing sound ended, a small trace of relief flowed through me.

  I heard the doctors speaking in German and the sound of metal clanking against metal. I wanted to see what they were doing, but all I could feel was fire. It was as if someone had doused me with gasoline and set me ablaze. I couldn't move and breathing hurt. But when cold metal slid into my flesh and next to bone, I wished I was dead.