by James Somers
I wanted to cry out, but the pixie dust had not yet begun to wear off. Still, it wouldn’t be too long. Then I would be able to scream all I wanted while Og and his murderous pixies peeled the flesh from my bones.
Incognito
Tiberius and his Breed warriors were steadily pushing their way out from Westminster, now that the palace and its associated buildings and grounds had been secured. Despite their best efforts, British soldiers had thus far presented little resistance to the vampire lord’s offensive. Even while Kron brought his Lycan warriors through various portals around London, another thousand British troops were breathing their last as vampires swept through their ranks.
Kron passed into London by way of an established gateway within Trafalgar square. He and the hundreds of Lycans following him were dressed in the plain garb of mortal civilians living throughout the city. Weapons had been hidden beneath the coats they were wearing—all in an attempt to appear as mortals to the vampires.
Certainly, out of all of the Descendant clans, the Lycans had the uncanny ability to appear human without the aid of glamour. In contrast, vampires could be easily identified by their characteristic red irises and pale skin. Kron hoped this simple fact would be enough to give him the advantage as he and his army engaged their Breed enemies.
Kron looked at his second in command. “Tarik, we will fan out on our way toward Westminster. We’ll engage the vampires only when our hand is forced. The closer we get to Tiberius before we’re revealed the better.”
“Yes, my lord,” Tarik said.
“However, if you find any of them overconfident, lure them in and eliminate them. After all, we look like their prey,” Kron said, laughing.
Tarik gestured with his hand above his head to the other Lycan soldiers. They fanned out quickly, moving toward the boundaries of the park. The Lycans weaved in among pedestrians in order to blend with humanity. In this way they might take Tiberius and his Breed by surprise.
Kron moved quickly toward Westminster. Tarik remained nearby, moving with him. All around them, humans were trying to get away from the encroaching hordes of hungry vampires. Civilians moved in one direction away from the conflict, while British troops moved toward Westminster in defense of the queen they hoped was still alive.
Shots were fired up ahead. Soldiers were dying up ahead. These things Kron had expected. Honestly, he held no hope for the humans in this conflict. That wasn’t even his reason for being here. He cared very little what happened to mortals.
However, he had not expected what he found next. The vampires were herding humans toward Westminster. Evidently, with all of Greystone’s population moving into London, Tiberius meant to round them up like cattle and keep a steady supply of food on hand for his starving people. Not only were warriors out on the hunt, but families of vampires were in desperate need.
Kron paused, drawing Tarik’s attention toward a group of humans being taken by the Breed. Tarik smiled and nodded when he realized Kron’s intentions. He signaled for other Lycan warriors to follow.
British soldiers and police officers fought and died for their city. Other humans ran for their lives through the streets of London. But Kron and his Lycan soldiers joined themselves to several groups of humans herded under the direction of threatening vampires.
Surprisingly, the Breed didn’t bother to screen them to make sure they were mortals. If these foolish humans wanted to give their lives to their new overlords willingly then so be it. They certainly did not feel threatened by them in any way. But now Kron and his men were well on their way toward the palace, and the vampires were doing all of the work getting them through their defensive line.
Marching past St. James Park, they made their way toward the palace with the vampires leering at them and shouting commands. Only once in Kron’s group did a human attempt to escape. The mortal was made an example of to the others. The vampires did unspeakable things to him before all in the middle of the road. After that display, the rest said nothing.
As their group of several hundred came upon the palace, Kron took note of Breed warriors who had taken up guard positions both on the grounds and upon various outcroppings and ledges on the building itself. So far, he had not seen any particular organization to Tiberius’s forces. Other than those who were rounding up humans for food, he had found little to suggest that the vampire lord was implementing any sort of establishment.
This was one of the things that Kron hated about the vampires. They were so disorganized. Their battle plans were always loose and chaotic at best. Nothing had changed by their coming into the mortal world to attempt this takeover of London. Always they considered themselves above any threat from others. Kron hoped to show how flawed that thinking truly was.
Their vampire captors led them into one of the entrances midway down the palace structure. Inside, what had recently been aged and beautiful was now broken and scattered. The palace décor looked as though looters had ransacked the place.
A great hall opened up ahead. Here, Kron saw more human prisoners assembled. Among them, he saw also his own kind. With the soldiers he and Tarik had brought with them in their group, and those who had infiltrated the others, Kron easily had hundreds of warriors inside the palace.
He and Tarik made their way through the throng, shoving mortals out of their way as necessary in order to get close to the vampires holding them in the hall. Kron’s soldiers did likewise. Within moments, they were ready and waiting upon their king.
Kron reached beneath his coat, drawing out a short sword. He leaped toward the nearest Breed guard, taking the vampire completely by surprise. His shock turned to horror as the sword plunged into his chest.
All over the massive hall where the humans had been herded together, Lycan soldiers broke loose of their mortal disguises, attacking their vampire captors and killing them before any cries for help could be made. Most of the Breed went down wondering how these mortals could have attacked them with such speed and strength.
As of yet, none of the Lycans had changed forms. Even the humans with them in the hall had no idea what had happened. As gestures of thanks and hopeful thoughts of rebellion were exchanged among the people, Kron decided to use the misunderstanding to further his advantage.
“Fellow humans!” Kron shouted over the din. “We will not be put down by these filthy bloodsuckers so easily. See what I and my fellows have done to them? They can be killed! Take up anything you can find as a weapon. Today we take back what they have stolen!”
Kron hadn’t been sure how the terrified mortals might react to such a call. However, he was pleasantly surprised when the cry to battle resounded throughout the mass of humanity present in the hall. He had them right where he wanted them. The humans would provide ample fodder to distract the vampires.
The huddled masses quickly became a raging mob, taking decorative swords from the walls, rods from the tapestries, even the legs from tables and anything else they could find for weapons. The ensuing cacophony quickly drew the attention of many more vampires already residing in the palace. Within minutes a full scale brawl ensued throughout various hallways and rooms in the building.
Kron and his soldiers maneuvered through the combatants, killing vampires at every turn. With so many engaged in the battle, even some mortals had been able to get in lucky shots against the vampires, felling them with pieces of furniture and anything else they could get their hands on. Still, none of the Lycans had revealed themselves.
Tiberius woke from his daily slumber as one of his lieutenants burst into his new bedchamber. One thing he would have admitted to Victoria, had she still been alive, was that these humans knew how to live luxuriously. Contrary to popular myth, vampires did not enjoy lying in earthen beds, or dwelling in musty caves. They enjoyed fine living as much as anyone. Only the desire to avoid revealing light and uncomfortable hot climates had caused them to establish a city underground in the cold of Greystone.
“My lord, the humans have rallied against us!”
“Many of our warriors have already been killed in the hall below,” the vampire said. “More are on the way.”
Tiberius growled as he pushed past his lieutenant. “We will not allow this!” he bellowed. “This city will be mine.”
He drew his sword, passing into the corridor outside his room. He ran down the hall as a blur with his lieutenant following. Three flights of steps brought them below to a massive melee battle taking place there.
A stream of Breed warriors poured into the massive hall trying to stem the rising tide of human resistance. Tiberius wasted no time entering the fray, striking down humans left and right. Several rebels turned on him, brandishing short swords with the blood of his Breed warriors upon them.
Tiberius raised his sword and launched a lightning quick attack. However, the humans were just as quick in their response. These mortals should have appeared to move in slow motion by comparison, but they did not. The rebels attacked, pushing Tiberius back. He saw the bloodlust in their eyes, the tinge of yellow in their irises as they bore their teeth in fury. He knew.
“Lycans!” Tiberius roared.
Kron heard the vampire lord from across the room, saw him as he realized he was not facing only mortals. He howled loud and long. The other Lycans in the hall cried out the same. Beyond the palace walls, a pair of Lycan soldiers heard that call and activated the portal at the Clock Tower.
Hundreds and hundreds of waiting Lycan soldiers poured through the portal, taking on their wolf forms for greater speed and ferocity. The less human they appeared, the stronger they became—even more ferocious than vampires, more insatiable for the kill. All of them answered the call to war—a call to destroy their long-hated enemies, the assassins of their king and his princess.
They flowed into the palace past dead human soldiers ready to do what the mortals never could. They had been waiting for this time for so long. The opportunity to engage the vampires had been withheld during the reign of Lycean. Their king had hoped so much to maintain peace. But their new king, Kron, was a soldier. He was ready to do what must be done to obtain real peace by eliminating the vampires from the face of the Earth.
As Lycans pushed through vampire defenses on the palace lawn, Kron transformed, becoming half human and half wolf. He often fought in this transitional state in order to utilize mortal fighting styles in a form with heightened strength and reflexes.
He charged through the humans that were still standing, shoving them aside like children on his way to kill the lord of the vampires. In order to demoralize the rest, he would sever the head of their people. As their shepherd fell before them, his sheep would scatter.
But Tiberius was not defenseless. Kron and his Lycans flew into a wall of vampires seeking to defend Tiberius. He could see the vampire lord beyond—stared into his fierce countenance.
Tiberius clearly recognized his foe. He looked directly at Kron and then laughed out loud behind the vampires standing to defend him.
“General Kron?” he said above the noise of battle. “I might have expected Lycean to cower within Tidus during the heat of battle.”
Lycan wolves smashed through the windows and charged through the doors from the lawn outside. They filled the massive hall, tearing through humans and vampires alike. There would be no difference made between them now that war was hot in their blood.
Tiberius cried out from behind his protectors, “Retreat!”
Almost instantly, the vampires sought to escape the battle in their animal forms. Birds by the hundreds launched toward the ceiling, taking the quickest routes out of the building they could find. Others, whose forms did not include the ability to fly, were less fortunate. Some even kept to their human forms and tried to escape that way.
The Lycans killed many while this was taking place, as well as any humans nearby that were still left standing. However, for the most part, Kron and his soldiers allowed them to escape. If Tiberius wanted to flee rather than fight then why not let him crawl back under his rock in Greystone?
Kron watched them go, crying out in victory as the vampires poured through the windows and out of every opening they could find. His Lycans followed suit, howling out their exultation as their enemies fled before them. They had won their first victory. How right they had been to follow Kron as their new king.
A thick flock of predatory birds erupted from every orifice of Buckingham Palace, driving into the air, seeking an escape from the battle with the Lycans. Tiberius soared among them in the form of a large eagle, his long talons tucked beneath him. He landed upon the Clock Tower with his lieutenant, a vampire by the name of Garek.
The younger Breed warrior went to work immediately. Garek opened the outer door that gave them access to the mechanism of the clock itself. Tiberius followed him inside.
Within the clock house, massive cogs ground together. Huge pendulums swung back and forth, and great springs coiled and released their energy to power the device. Another minute passed, and the long hands upon the faces of four clocks moved incrementally in response.
“Are you sure this plan will work as you described?” Tiberius asked.
Garek became a large crow, flying expertly through the churning mechanism to the platform where he had preassembled a device of his own. “Precisely, my lord,” he replied.
Tiberius waited for his lieutenant to carry out the plan they had agreed to upon Garek’s request. The Breed warrior had wisely suggested that their conquest in London might draw an enemy attack. Tiberius had surmised as much on his own, but it was Garek who had suggested this contingency.
The vampire lord looked down upon the long palace building he had just surrendered to Kron and his Lycan soldiers. Above him, his flock of vampires soared higher and higher, riding thermals that took them above London. Tiberius despised the idea of giving any ground to the Lycans, but this contingency allowed him a smile. After all, he was about to take away what he had just given up.
Garek expertly wrapped the connecting wires around the positive and negative terminals of the dynamite plunger. He and his team had been the ones to inspect the palace grounds and buildings for anything useful. Supply stores had been found in abundance in the vast cellars located beneath the palace itself.
They had located enough food to feed an army. However, Garek had also discovered munitions for that army. As a younger warrior, he had more knowledge of technology than Tiberius and the older sect of vampires. And so his lord had allowed him this opportunity to prove himself.
Garek looked back to his master. “I’m ready, my lord!”
Tiberius nodded to his young lieutenant and then turned back to Buckingham to see the result. Garek raised the plunger rod and then drove it back down into the wooden box. The gears within whined as they spun, creating the necessary current to charge the circuit Garek had created between the plunger, the wire and the abundant TNT and gunpowder kegs in the palace below.
Gouts of flame erupted from every window and doorway to the outside of the palace. A series of detonations shook the entire grounds. Even the clock was not immune to its effects. The four faces of milk glass shattered as the shockwave reached them in the tower.
Garek shot through the mechanism beginning to fly apart around him. He caught up with Tiberius, and they launched into the sky together. The palace began to collapse in places as fire mushroomed through the roof. Tiberius watched gleefully with his eagle’s eyes as Lycan soldiers on the grounds were thrown by the blast. Many others were vaporized inside the furnace churning within the palace walls. He hoped Kron was still among them.
Screaming
My vision came and went. Each time my lids raised enough to see again, the scene had changed. Kron and the other pixies had gone. However, at some point they must have come back because some of the bodies of the dead vampires were missing from the poles where they had been fastened.
The buzzing of flies filled my ears. I also perceived the wretche
d smell of decay, but I still could not move. I tried in vain to speak, hoping that Uriah was still alive nearby. My voice would not obey. In the back of my mind I remembered what I knew of pixies. They wait to feed until the screaming starts.
I vaguely wondered if anyone had ever tried to fake their continued catatonia. Maybe, if I didn’t let them know that my voice had come back, they might delay. Any extension might give me enough time work out some way of escape. I might even gain enough of my faculties to sever these cables with my mind and free Uriah and myself.
Still, there were vampires beginning to wake around me. Sure enough, one by one, they began to wail and moan. I wanted to cry out to them—tell them to stop. All of their roaring would only bring the pixies down upon us even sooner. Could they not understand?
Then one of them stated the obvious.
“Stop your screaming,” the vampire managed through gritted teeth.
He was as red-faced as any vampire I had seen, apparently trying to hold back some pain he was experiencing. He fought it successfully for a moment longer, but ultimately failed. The vampire began to wail and cry just like the others. In fact, every waking victim of the pixies did the same in turn.
In that moment of clarity, brought on by their cries, I remembered something Helios had taught me about pixie dust. It dulls the nervous system, particularly motor function. But, in time, the sensation of pain returns and it returns with a vengeance. Those who had lived to tell about it described an experience like being burned alive.
No wonder these normally stoic vampires were carrying on so much. They couldn’t help the terrible pain they were feeling. Still, only their facial muscles were functioning. They had just enough awareness to experience the agony of our situation. But that anguish would only be the beginning. Their cries acted as dinner bells calling the ravenous pixies to come and feed.
