by Amy Cross
“Now do you understand,” Skellig growls, “the inevitability of your extinction?”
I hear him stepping closer, but I can't even turn to look at him.
“I took the liberty of removing my own eyes for this battle,” he sneers. “I wanted nothing to hold back the energy I can deliver to you.”
A faint grinding, rattling sound emerges from his chest.
Suddenly he blasts me again, sending rippling currents of pure agony through my body, holding me up as I feel my body being torn apart atom by atom. The attack lasts only a fraction of a second, but this time as I slump down against the round stone table I can tell that the damage will take longer to heal. I try to call out, to warn the others, but all I can do is cling to the table as I hear Skellig stepping closer.
“Cerulesis,” I whisper, hoping against hope that I might be able to establish contact with her lost soul. “How can I stop this?”
“You can't,” a voice whispers in my ear.
Shocked, I try to lift my head. Was that Skellig's voice, or was it someone else, someone from the past? With my head still rippling and burning, I can't even tell anymore.
“There are some battles,” Cerulesis's voice continues, with a hint of sorrow, “that even I could never have won.”
“No,” I whisper, trying to haul myself to my feet. “You're wrong.”
Blinking furiously, I'm finally able to see again, and I find that Skellig is standing next to me, staring down into my face with the smile of one who thinks his enemy is finally defeated. Just as I'm certain he'll finish me off, however, he turns and looks past me.
“You have arrived just in time,” he sneers. “I will give you the privilege of ending this wretch's life.”
Turning, I see Emilia standing in the doorway, with the blood of my friends smeared across her shirt and face. She takes a step forward, raising her dagger as if she's relishing the idea of killing me. “I just had the pleasure of executing the council of Gothos,” she says with a grin. “Could you hear their screams from here?”
“Wait,” I stammer, “you're being tricked, there's not -”
Before I can get another word out, she lunges at me, screaming with pure hatred as the fangs of her spider form burst through from the slit in her belly and bite down hard into my chest. I try to cry out, but I can already feel burning black venom being pumped into my body, filling my veins as it pulses through to find my heart. Emilia pulls me tight into an embrace of death, and all I can do is reach up and put my hands on her shoulders as I stare into her hate-filled eyes. I have to warn her, to let her know, before it's too late, that she and the other spiders are being tricked, that something far darker is using her army as it seeks to return.
“If you're in any doubt at all,” she says darkly, “let me promise you that Abby Hart will be my next victim.”
“Listen to me,” I whisper, as I feel the venom filling my chest. “He's not... This thing is not... You're being...”
She bites down harder, ripping her throbbing fangs through my chest, and then finally she disengages, pushing me back until I slump down onto the stone floor.
“Go, child,” Skellig tells her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Ms. Hart awaits you, does she not?”
She nods, before turning and hurrying out of the room.
“She knows nothing of the truth,” Skellig continues, looking down at me. “Like the rest of her pathetic species, she is incapable of seeing the bigger picture. Instead, she is driven by hatred, and it is hatred that can be used to control her. By the time she understands the truth, it will be too late for her to do anything.”
With pain bursting through my body, I try to sit up, but I can feel spider venom burning its way toward my heart. I try to block its path, to use my healing powers to create new barriers, but I know it's only a matter of time. And then, before I can even take another breath, Skellig blasts me with another burst of energy from his eyes, and I feel every atom in my body explode with pure pain.
Jonathan
Screams.
Everywhere.
Stopping for a moment, I turn and listen to the sound of people dying all around me. I can barely even process the individual cries anymore; instead, they've become a kind of wall, an impression of misery and suffering that seems to be filling the air. So much death, so much pain, so much pure agony.
I can feel it creeping into my soul.
I can feel it changing me.
“Stop,” I stammer, trying not to panic before finally I have no choice but to scream: “Stop!”
I stumble back, feeling as if I'm about to lose my mind. Ever since I first learned about Abby and about the vampires, I've tried to approach the whole thing from an academic standpoint, analyzing facts and striving for calm, logical solutions. Finally, however, I can feel that approach starting to crumble, replaced by a sense of anger that's rising in my chest and threatening to consume me entirely.
I can't survive in this world. I have to find a way out, or die, or become someone else.
Suddenly I hear another scream, closer this time, and I turn to see a female vampire racing along the corridor, limping heavily and covered in blood. All I can do is stare, however, as a huge spider comes scurrying after her and digs its fangs into her back, dragging her down and pressing her against the floor. I'm frozen by fear as I watch thick black venom being pumped into the woman's body, and after a moment she raises her head and looks at me, as if she thinks I can somehow help her. Her eyes are filled with the knowledge of her own impending death.
“I'm sorry,” I stammer, taking a step back. “I'm not a soldier. I can't -”
Before I can get another word out, one side of the woman's head bursts open as a torrent of burning venom flows out, running down the side of her face and searing her flesh as she lets out one final, agonized scream. The spider pulls its fangs from her back, tearing out part of her spinal column in the process, and a moment later its eight black, glistening eyes turn toward me. Scraps of the woman's flesh are still stuck to the creature's fangs as it starts to climb over her corpse, already making its way toward me.
So far, I've run every time I've faced one of these things.
This time, however, I find myself rooted to the spot. Running is no longer an option.
As I watch the creature's fangs getting closer, I can't help thinking back to Ash and the way she died. She was just a kid, just a human who got lost in a world she didn't understand, and instead of finding a way home she ended up getting torn apart on a dusty, rocky landscape. Even though I know I should run again, and even though I have no weapon in my hands, I somehow manage to stand firm, filled with a growing sense of anger as the spider approaches. Finally the beast is just a few feet away, towering over me with its eight black eyes staring down and its venom-and-blood-smeared fangs twitching, as if it's waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
I should be scared, but I'm not.
Not anymore.
I'm just angry, and for the first time in my life I feel pure hatred in my soul.
“Go on, then,” I tell the spider, as I see my own face reflected back at me in each of its eight eyes. “How many lives have you ended today? Are you enjoying the carnage?”
The spider leans a little further toward me, as its fangs start to open. It's going to attack at any moment now.
From somewhere deep down, I can feel my anger growing. Not just anger, but pure, blind rage and fury. Maybe Abby was right, maybe I do have a deep-rooted genetic hatred for these things, or maybe I'm simply feeling guilty over Ash's death, but suddenly I know I can't run, not anymore. This creature will most likely tear me apart in no time, and I've seen trained, armed vampires being felled by them, but at the same time I feel as if I can't run anymore.
And still the spider hesitates.
What's it waiting for?
Does it sense my anger? Does it somehow know that I'm different, that I'm not like all the soldiers it has killed since it broke through the walls of Gothos? Becaus
e all of that's true...
I'm not a soldier, and I don't need to become one.
I'm angry enough already.
We strike at the same time. The spider lunges toward me, spreading its fangs and then driving them down against my chest. I manage to push back at the last possible moment, gripping the slimy, warm points and twisting them around while slamming my elbow into the creature's eyes. I have no idea if I manage to cause it any pain, and I don't wait to find out. Instead, I grab hold of the top of one of its eyes and I haul myself up, digging my boots into several more of the black orbs and slicing my heel through a thick, black ball of viscous fluid that bursts as I clamber onto the spider's head. I have no idea what I'm doing up here, but a sense of anger is driving me onward and I reach down to dig through the creature's flesh with my bare hands.
Suddenly I'm knocked to one side as the spider twitches and turns. I almost fall down, but I manage to grab the front of the head and pull myself back up. Looking down into the seven remaining eyes, I see my own reflection and I immediately grab the nearest eye, digging my fingers into the surface until it bursts. Reaching down, I tear two more eyes open, and then another two, and I keep going until finally I rip away the last of the spider's eyes, leaving him blinded as he turns and crawls back against the wall. Hanging on tight, I wait as the beast tries to shake me off, and then I look down at the top of the creature's head and realize that the only way to kill it is to get to the brain.
Screaming louder than I ever imagined possible, I start crashing my elbows down onto the top of the spider's head, desperately trying to crush its skull. At first I have no luck, and the spider simply twists and turns as it continues to try throwing me off; I keep going, however, and finally I feel something cracking beneath the spider's flesh and the whole damn thing tilts forward slightly, stumbling as if it's in pain. Filled with anger, and with the memory of Ash's death, I keep trying to crack the skull with my elbow while reaching forward with my other hand and digging my fingers into the mashed, broken eyes on the front of the spider's head. I start scooping out all the soft, gooey material I find and then I dig deeper, trying to force my way to its brain by punching through from the front. The spider is shifting furiously now, desperately attempting to throw me off, but I close my eyes and cry out as I punch through the skull.
“This is for Ash!” I shout. “And for everyone else you've killed today!”
Finally I feel something soft and fleshy deep inside the spider's skull and I press my fingers in harder, digging with my nails.
The spider lurches to one side and lets out a high-pitched squealing sound, before tilting back and charging at a wall, slamming against the stone with such force that it's either trying to throw me off or maybe even knock itself unconscious. I keep digging into its brain, scooping out as much matter as I can, until the spider tilts forward and some kind of hot liquid starts pouring out around my hand and onto the floor below. The squealing sound is getting louder, but I can feel the beast starting to weaken as its legs struggle to hold it up, and finally the main part of the body is lowered to the ground. I push my hand further into its brain and take hold of a large chunk, finally ripping it out and tossing it aside. The spider drops down but I'm not done yet; I keep going, removing more and more of its brain until the body lets out one final twitch. I pull back, holding the brain stem in my hand, and for a moment I'm filled with a sense of disappointed rage that I don't quite understand, until suddenly a moment of realization hits me.
Breathless and exhausted, I look down at the head of my dead enemy, and I realize that I'm sorry it died so easily.
I wanted to make it suffer.
Clambering down, I stumble back with blood and cranial fluid soaking into my clothes. I stare at the dead spider for a moment, shocked that I was able to bring it down but also filled with a sense that I should have drawn its pain out for longer, that I should have made it pay for the way Ash died.
The whole building shudders as some distant impact shakes Gothos to its foundations, but a moment later I hear a scratching sound nearby and I turn to see another huge spider crawling toward me along the corridor.
This time, however, there's no fear in my soul.
I'm actually pleased to see it.
After all, the only way to deal with my anger is to rip another of these goddamn things apart with my bare hands. As the spider scurries toward me, speeding up as it gets closer, I watch its eyes and decide that this time I'm going to go straight for the brain, but that I'm also going to find a way to make the monster pay. All that matters is that this spider, right here and right now, dies in the most agonizing way possible.
It's what Ash would have wanted.
Maybe it's what my father would have done.
As the spider reaches me and lunges at my face with its fangs, I throw myself at its eyes, digging my hands into the glistening black spheres. I barely even pay attention to where the fangs are, or whether they're close enough to bite me; my rage is taking over and I force my hands through the eyes and into the brain cavity, ready to deliver the maximum possible level of pain while the damn thing is still alive. I let out a cry of anger as I hear the spider squealing, and then I bite down, digging my teeth into the creature's flesh and tearing through its meat with my fangs.
For the first time in my life, I feel like a true vampire.
Emilia
She's close. I can sense her.
My two venom sacs, located just below my stomach, are full and ready. I've saved these final drops for Abby Hart's death.
The spider army broke through the barrier at the top of the stairs with ease, forcing the vampires back and killing several of them. Now there can only be half a dozen of the wretches left, most of them trapped in one of the two rooms at the end of this corridor. Several spiders are already breaking the door down, but I'm holding back because somehow I can tell that Abby Hart is separate from the others.
Turning, I look the other way.
She's not hiding.
She's waiting.
Planning something.
She won't accept her fate, not until the very last moment.
I reach for the hilt of my sword, before realizing that this is exactly what she expects. Instead, I need to unsettle her. After all, despite my hatred for her and for everything she represents, I know full well that she's no idiot. Somewhere deep down, she must have a trace of her father's wisdom. Taking a step forward, I try to ignore the cries of dying vampires all around me, and I focus on everything else. Abby won't be where the cries are coming from, she'll be waiting in the pockets of silence. She'll be watching, plotting, trying to think her way out of this.
She -
Suddenly I hear a series of screeches from over my shoulder, and I turn just as the far end of the corridor bursts into flames. Two huge, beautiful spiders come stumbling back, their bodies burning, and I watch in horror as they drop down against the floor. Vampires learned long ago that my species is vulnerable to fire, and although we've managed to defend ourselves for the most part with additions to our armor, small injuries can sometimes offer a way for flames to ignite our venom sacs. I feel a sense of rage in my chest as I watch those two magnificent spiders burning to death, and I realize that even though our casualties are dwarfed by the legions of vampire dead, I hate the idea of even a single spider fatality.
And then a figure steps past the burning corpses, and I finally find myself face-to-face with Abby Hart.
“Is that your plan?” I ask, reaching for my sword before holding back. After all, she's unarmed, so why shouldn't I kill her with my bare hands instead? “Do you seriously think you can injure and then burn whole legions of my species?”
“I just wanted to get your attention,” she replies darkly, with her eyes fixed on me. “Plus, I think I might have broken a record. I've killed eight spiders so far.”
“You're hurt,” I point out, spotting the numerous deep cuts and wounds on her torso. “You must be in pain.”
“Don't
worry about me,” she replies. “I'm fine.”
“Still,” I continue, pulling my sword from its sheath, “I wouldn't like you to think that I have an unfair advantage. That looks like a particularly nasty gash on your left shoulder. It goes all the way through, I think.” Holding my sword up, I maintain eye contact with Abby as I drive my blade against my own left shoulder, copying her injury by carving to the bone and then through to the other side. The pain is intense, but I think it's only fair that we should start this fight on level terms. Finally I pull my sword out and toss it over the balcony, letting it fall down onto the steps below, where it clatters against the stone until it comes to rest in the hallway. “There,” I say with a smile, “that seems fairer, don't you think? A certain symmetry seems to follow us around. We start with the same shoulder wound.”
“Am I the last one left?” she asks.
My smile grows.
“Am I the last one?” she shouts, her voice filled with anger.
“More or less,” I tell her, as I realize that she probably doesn't know about Absalom yet. “I found your trainer,” I continue. “Skellig did most of the damage, but I finished him off. It felt so good to fill Absalom's wretched body with my venom and -”
“You're lying,” she says firmly.
“Do you really think so?” Watching her face, I can already make out the faintest flicker of fear; she desperately wants to believe that I'm trying to trick her, but deep down she knows I wouldn't bother making up such a story. “He's dead, Abby. You killed my mentor back in New York, and now I've returned the favor. If you don't believe me, reach out with your mind and try to find Absalom. You'll quickly realize that his soul has gone dark.”
