The Night Walkers

by Elaine McGregor-Dawson

  Suddenly, silence was the only thing heard as her breaths went ragged and the black silhouette disappeared out of the candled light before her. Carrying one of her only true friends with it.

  * * * * *

  (Debra’s P.O.V)

  Weak. Debra felt so weak suddenly. Her eyes were drooping shut on their own, her legs, her body and everything were beginning to close in on themselves.

  She’d tripped over too many times to count; she’d scratched herself on loose sticks and branches and once almost landed in the river. The only thing that kept Debra on her feet was the thought of getting away from everything. She’d even blacked out a few times and woken up with the haunting clouds above her, staring at her like a million eyes on fire, blazing lighting at her. Then she stood up and eventually got used to this odd dizziness that was callousing through her.

  “You,” something said from behind her. She turned around, heart hammering in her chest and looked towards a figure from behind her. “I know who you are, girl.” It said. Debra took one step backwards. She shook her head, then her knees buckled from beneath her and she was sprawled on the ground, lying in a muddied puddle.

  “W-who are you?” she stammered, shaking with fright. Her face must look as-white-as-a-ghost; everything about her probably would look like death. She knew it was taking over her. After her previous sentence, she found it too hard to even muster one last word.

  The figure chuckled the stepped forwards into a stray bit of moonlight. She froze as the figure smiled that unfamiliar smile. He was beautiful to the point of insanity and looked at her as if he was the key to her survival. He looked her up and down, frowned, and then placed his pale hand to her. “I shall help you, dear one,” he started. She shrunk away into the shadows but couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  “Who are you?” she asked again weakly.

  The young man – who wouldn’t be any older than nineteen – smiled at her shaking figure. “My name is Dorian Hendrickson, you can trust me, and I will save you.”

  “Save me from what exactly,” she eyes him suspiciously, and then winced under the pressure of his beautiful sea-green eyes. Just by looking at him she could tell me wasn’t a Night Walker like her. But she could tell me was something else that wasn’t a Hybrid.

  “The darkness, dear one,” he said again. His hand drifted down towards her and she stared at it for a long moment. “It’s consuming you bit by bit. Sooner or later you’ll be nothing but pure evil, just like all those hybrids.” He leaned down and looked her in the eyes, “hmm, your blue eyes are beginning to cast black around the edges and your irises are turning red. Soon you’ll desire nothing but blood.”

  She breathed in deeply and looked at her hands, the back up at his face and nodded hesitantly. “You’re saying I’m turning into a Hybrid? Like Claudius.”

  He nodded, “I am the only one with a cure, dear one. Come with me before it’s too late. If you begin to turn I’ll be forced to kill you,” he said, “because it’s what I am made for.”

  “And what is it you’re made for?” She asked, scared expressions alighting her face. Her hands quivered at her side, but she gripped Dorian’s surprising soft and warm hand. He helped her stand and when she did she almost toppled over.

  “Steady,” he breathed. “I am a Night Hunter,” he said simply and sharped his gaze at the moon. “I’m a little like you, but I don’t steal or do missions as your kind do. I am designed to rid the world on creatures like hybrids, things like what Claudius.”

  He helped her limp through the woods, taking small steps at a time. All the while she stared blindingly forwards, oblivious to everything that stretched out before her. “A Night Hunter, just like I’m a Night Walker? There are such things?” she was half talking to herself and half to him. Dorian nodded.

  “We are very ancient, just as ancient as you are. We were created for the soul reason of which Hybrids were made. If it weren’t for most of us being destroyed, you wouldn’t have gotten scratched by one. In earlier days, my kind were strong, obedient, skilful, we took those creatures down ten by twenty at a time and didn’t stop until they lay on the ground, limp to their emotionless hearts.”

  “What did my kind do at the time?” she asked, trying to distract her mind. Something inside her suddenly lurched and she dug her head, a scream erupting from her mouth.

  “The change is happening,” he said and shook his head. “Hold on, we’re almost there.” He decided to carry her and so he put her over his shoulder, muscles so strong and lively that she closed her eyes, feeling as though she were able to let the darkness take over.

  A moment she opened her eyes, and they widened. Dorian had taken her into a graveyard. Tombstones and pillars with words in Latin were etched into them, creating many different words she failed to convert. He led her towards a small tomb where pictures cherubs and seraphim were crafted on the edges. Dorian meekly pulled one hand out, trailed his finger across the lettering, said five words that were in no earthen language she’d ever known and withdrew his hand.

  There was the sound of the stone door opening and she saw it glide open very gently. She looked inside, and a rough candled light erupted through it. She breathed – obviously forgetting to do so beforehand.

  He stepped through the door and behind them it closed. “This is our sanctum, our place where we keep ourselves hidden from the world. You belong to The Luna Academy and I belong to Sanctum Sillenite, Sanctum of Silence or Holy Silence. He leads her down the steps and she felt that little rough light on her face comforting.

  “Wish I had a place like this to come. How many of you are there?”

  He shrugged his shoulders, “thirty-eight in this place, more are scattered through Manhattan, New York and more in Chicago. There are more all over the world, hidden to the naked eye.”

  She nodded weakly as another surge of pain shot through her. Dorian took a sharp intake of breath and stepped into a room. “Just lie here for the moment, okay? I’m going to get you some medicine.” He slipped out the door. She kept her eyes focused on the ceiling were pictures of grails and angels floating above them. She felt her eyes begin to go blurry and she let out a cry of rage as a pain so forcible and large lashed through her veins. She screamed just as Dorian slipped in the room.

  “Calm down!” he said a lay a damp flannel against her forehead. She focused her breathing and nodded slowly. “I’m going to inject this stuff, it’s very special syrup with a certain ingredient. If I inject this into your vein you will cease to become a Night Walker and will become a Night Hunter like me.”

  “What?” she managed to say throughout the pain.

  “It’s the only way, if you do not you will die because I will kill you and I am in holy grounds now. Hybrids are not allowed in holy grounds. This is the reason why we set up our sanctum here.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes, but she nodded in understanding. She’d lived through a lot, had had so many memories with her and Kit. She was sixteen-years-old which was far too young to die. “Very well, you may turn me.”

  He nodded in understanding and relief washing over his features – which she now saw were beautiful. His hair was a slight blondish brown, his eyes even more sea-green and his lashes so long and brown that she wondered what they’d look like with rain drops on them.

  “Ready?”

  “No, but go on, get it over with.”

  There was silence and she was glad he allowed her those few moments of silence. It let her think about Kit, about her friends, the pain she’d gone through and the good things she experienced. Then he sighed, gripped her hand tight and the sharp pain of the needle went into the side of her neck. It was the most excruciating pain she ever experienced and suddenly – after screaming and screaming – her eyes began to shut and the outline of Dorian, who loomed over her still clutching her hand, fell away, replaced by solid darkness.

  Before she completely drifted off, she heard him say one last thing, “good luck, young Night Hunter, I look for
ward to seeing you on the other side…”

  * * * * *

  She sat bolt-upright with a massive gasp. Her head didn’t sway back and forth, and she didn’t even feel dizzy or anything like that. Debra looked around, wary of her surroundings. No one was there except for the familiar young-man who stood in the open doorway of the sanctum. She felt out of breath but extraordinarily different.

  “Dorian?” she asked a little impatiently, awaiting him to turn around which he eventually did. She was lying in an average size room and there were a few rows of beds. It kind of resembled the infirmary at The Luna Academy expect slightly smaller. He turned around, holding a glass cup in his hand.

  “Hello,” he greeted and walked over to her. He sat down on a seat beside the bed and smiled at her. Once again, she was reminded of the fact that he was beautiful, and every detail of his fine face was flawless and worked so well. “How do you feel?”

  “Ah, I actually feel good,” she said surprisingly. There had never been a time while she was making her decision where she’d thought she would never be in pain after being changed. “What was in that needle?”

  He shrugged his shoulders, “a very hard ingredient to find called Sun-Rest-Resilience. You’ve probably never heard of the plant before, it’s highly different.” Dorian eyed her worriedly, as if she would suddenly break into a tear or something. But she didn’t, just stared at her hands; the scars she had always carried were gone.

  “Do I look the same?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Your eyes are no longer that same blue colour, they are now Crystalline-cerulean, and your hair is much more ice-blond, your skin paler and if you would pull your sleeves up for me I will show you something else.”

  She did as instruct and pulled back the sleeves of her armour. That was when she gasped and closed her eyes. Cascading up her arm was a tattoo where symbols and swirls were swiftly etched into her skin. “What are they?” she asked.

  “They’re what happen when you become a Night Hunter. The moment this happens you become one of us. Everyone else has visited you and payed for you. Now you have everyone’s blessing, and everyone’s invite into our sanctum. There are two more things.”

  “Yes?”

  “Your name first; we have to understand your name and then we will be able to fully understand everything. Don’t you see, dear one, this is the beginning, you can start new here.”

  She swallowed and nodded. “My name is Debra Vincent.” She said.

  “Debra,” the name rolled off his mouth. “What a brilliant name. You bear the light now, but when you were with The Luna Academy you bearded the darkness. Now, we rid the world of hybrids, are you ready to take that into lengths? Are you prepared to join Sanctum Sillenite?”

  “I am prepared to join you all. I will do whatever I can, I am grateful that you saved me from crossing into the darkness.”

  “Debra, my dear Shadow Prowler, welcome to Sanctum Sillenite. I’m going to introduce you to everyone else now. Would you like to follow me?”

  “Okay,” she said in answer. “What do you mean by me being a Night Prowler? What is that?” She had more questions but decided to just go along with what he wanted to show her. She followed him out and watched him as he answered her question.

  "The Night Prowler is practically the starting level, you're in the training position now and you'll be working your way up from there. I know you must have done a lot of work when you were in The Luna Academy and have worked your way up to be a prefect which was very good."

  "How do you know so much about my Academy?" She asked, fidgeting with the bottom her armour. That was when she realized all her weapons were gone, "and where are my weapons? I had them here before." She gave him her best confused look.

  "In answer to your first question I actually use to be a Night Walker. The exact same thing that just happened to you happened to me a few years back. You see though, the moment you become a Night Hunter you stay important forever. One hundred years ago I started at The Luna Academy and had an encounter with a hybrid who scratched me across the face. My master found me, much like I found you, and took me under his wing. I was nineteen then and haven't changed once in appearance."

  She nodded, a surprised expression of understand cast over her face.

  "As for the second question I had to take your weapons away because they won't work for you anymore. You probably no longer feel those cat-like abilities anymore, instead you'll feel lighter, and almost like that darkness that uses to rest on your shoulders is gone. Your weapons were linked through the blood in your veins. Now though, everything has changed. You'll move different, you'll learn differently, and we will treat you very well."

  It was a lot for Debra to take in, but she allowed him the chance to tell everything she wanted to know. "So, you've been killing hybrids for 100 years. Impressive. And your Master is?"

  "Hello, Debra," said an unfamiliar voice from in front of her. She raised her head rather quickly to look towards the spot where the voice had come from. There, standing over a fire in a different room, was a man. He spun around, a wine glass in his hand and another flawless face in comparison to Dorian.

  "Hendrickson, she is very lovely," he inquired with all the grace of the world. He stepped forward, looking no older than twenty and extremely well built. He was muscular on the chest and his skin was lightly tanned, he looked like he'd been kissed by the sun from the lightness that radiated off him. The light behind him cast sudden nobility into the air that mingled with his charismatic power. "Debra, isn't it?"

  "Yes, sir." She stood up straighter as he stepped forth. He hands dark-brown hair that drifted slightly over his face and his eyes were platinum-mercury and he looked at her with these moonlit eyes. He acknowledged me just as he had Dorian.

  "You may call me Abraham, Abe for short." He stepped forwards and stuck his hand out for her to shake. She accepted and after a quick shake she tried to withdraw but he wouldn't let go. He shut his eyes; it felt like he was reaching into her soul. When he opened his eyes, they were wide, and he looked out of breath. "So strong."

  She looked at him funny but was momentarily unable to say anything.

  "Debra, such a beautiful name a girl. You're very strong; I can feel the pulse like light and fireworks. They are in you, sitting there, waiting to be released. That's why we have you here, because we want to teach you how to get that power out of you."

  "Oh, Abe, I-I don't know what to say. Power? What power?"

  "That's what I'm curious to know, too," he said, then looked towards Dorian who had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black jumper. "Would you mind giving Debra a tour of The Sanctum? She has so much more left to see."

  Debra nodded eagerly, "I'd love to see more."

  Dorian nodded, "right this way."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  (Levi's P.O.V)

  Levi had a horrible feeling as he peered around, heart beating in his chest so hard and fast that he could feel it in his throat. He held Kit close to him, always watching what was going on around him. Beside him he could feel the tension in the room, could see the sheer white terror that crossed Kit's face as she watched the place Sally had vanished to.

  They stood there in the blood curdling silence, unable to say anything. Levi didn't know what to do, just stood there like an idiot watching his friend as she was taken. It was moment before eater said a word.

  "What just happened?" Kit asked, who looked as though she hadn't breathed this everything had happened. Levi clenched his fists and dug his face into his hands.

  "I don't know," was all he managed to say, unable to keep the impatience out of his tone, "but I'm going after her. He lifted his head towards where Sally had disappeared only moments ago and clenched his fists. "It's like they're always tearing down everything we have worked for!"

  Kit lay her arms around his shoulders, "I promise you everything is going to be fine. I'm going to go with you and I don't care what you say about it. You know what happe
ned last time we decided to split," she eyed him, watching how his stern expression changed.

  The truth was that Levi wanted Kit beside him the entire time. He never wanted to leave her. In his mind though that sounded selfish because he was putting her life in danger. However, where else would she go, nowhere was safe.

  He nodded, "okay, you can come but stay behind me, I'll go in front."

  *

  (Syria's P.O.V)

  Syria bashed her fists against the cave wall, trying to distract Claudius and his hybrids to follow where her and her group was going. She followed behind the rest of the group and they had all decided that they should lead Claudius outside for the war instead of inside.

  "They're following!" Headmistress said from beside her, "I can nearly see them in the darkness, good thing we're going outside," she shouted over the echoes of everyone's footsteps. Syria nodded as they followed the group, always weary of what was behind her.

  "Do you think they'll catch up before we can get outside?"

  Headmistress shook her head, "unlikely, after all, if they do, there will be so many of us that we might have an advantage."

  Syria nodded her head, seeming to already be prepared for whatever was going to come. She took in one big breath, stared at the cave as they came out and quickly ordered everyone else to prepare for what was coming.

  "Syria, what's going on? What's going to happen?"

  Syria looked at the young girl who has asked her the question and as she did, she tried to find the best words that she could possibly say. "We're going to try not to get killed," was all she could say. The girl stared at her wide-eyed before lowering her head to the ground.

  Suddenly, from the cave came a massive roar, so loud it sent the birds in the trees flying away.

  "Right everyone!" she shouted, "make sure you're ready, here they come."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  (Debra's P.O.V)

  The night had shifted into an uncanny open field of light. Debra had never seen anything like it. Her entire life had been blocked by the closed doors of the Luna Academy and finally she'd had someone open the door for her. She could feel Dorian's presence behind her, could hear the changes of the wind, could feel the earths breath as it cascaded across her bare arms, alighting her fragile farm with a new delicate charm.