The Blood Witch (The Blood Reign Chronicles Book 1)

by Nielsen, D. S.

  Jak felt as if he was watching the whole chaotic show from someone else’s eyes. He felt very strange, as if he knew the two men that just entered the room and should help them. But it was a fleeting thought. All this was just a distraction. He was supposed to be doing ……something else…..but not this. What then?

  The woman sitting at the table stood and walked around her chair to stand directly in front of Jak. The woman looked like his mother. What was his mother doing here? The woman began to murmur something in a low voice as she peered up at Jak with malevolence in her dark eyes. Brigette’s voice could be heard far away commanding, “NO! Stop Issanya.”

  Jak threw his arms around the woman standing in front of him and held her tight. She struggled furiously against his grip, but in vain. Why was his mother here….and why was she struggling against him? He remembered killing his mother with his own hands. He had chopped her head off with an axe and burned her body. Why would she not leave him alone? Why was she haunting him this way? Why would she not stay out of his dreams and leave him alone?

  Jak grasped the woman by the back of the neck with one hand and savagely plunged his other hand deep into her chest. It felt very wet, soft, and warm. The woman’s eyes bulged and her mouth gaped open as she struggled futilely against his grip. The woman wore a profound look of surprise, mixed with horror.

  Groping around with his hand inside the woman, searching, until at last his hand found what he was searching for. He was holding the woman’s still beating heart in the palm of his hand. It was strange and oddly exhilarating, feeling the woman’s heart beating and pulsing in his grasp.

  “Leave me alone” Jak cried as he ripped the woman’s heart from her chest. The woman fell to the floor in a heap as Jak stared unblinking at the woman’s heart in his hand, dripping with blood and still struggling for life. After a long moment, he finally released the now lifeless heart, allowing it to drop on top of the woman on the floor. Maybe now she would not haunt his dreams any longer.

  Raising his eyes, Jak looked around and saw the two men with swords still dancing their deadly dance. The big man was limping now from a deep gash in his right thigh. Blood stained the big man’s trousers as it oozed from the wound and ran down his leg onto his boots. Bloody boot prints covered the wooden floor as the big man danced and retreated from the wiry man’s onslaught. There was also a cut on the big man’s upper left arm that trickled blood down to his elbow. The lean man, seemingly uninjured, wore a wolfish grin as he pressed his advantage.

  The old man with the brown robe had sweat beading on his forehead as sparks danced and flashed all around him. The old man was obviously weary from his struggle and he steadied himself with one hand on the wall for support. It was like an elaborate show with lights dancing and flashing back and forth. At times, nothing at all seemed to be happening, but the two men seemed to still be struggling with each other in an unseen duel. If Jak had not been dreaming all of this, he would be amazed at the wonderful show that was before him.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity the black robed man slumped to his knees breathing heavily. Immediately the old man raised his hand and a ball of fire no bigger than his fist streaked across the room.

  It grew in size and brightness as it crossed the distance before striking the other man in the chest. It left a hole where it struck such that Jak could see all the way through the man’s chest. The black clad man’s chest just seemed to be missing where the ball of fire had struck. The black robed man toppled backwards to the floor, and the old man slumped wearily to his knees in exhaustion.

  On the other side of the room the dance of swords continued until finally the huge man faltered and fell to one knee. The lean man, with a triumphant look on his face lunged forward to run his sword through the other man’s chest. At the last possible moment the big man knocked the other man’s sword aside before grabbing the smaller man by the wrist, swinging him around backwards and running his own sword through, to protrude from the lean man’s chest.

  There was a look of utter surprise in the smaller man’s eyes as he slid slowly off the big man’s sword to fall lifelessly to the floor. The big man fell to one knee again, chest heaving with the effort he had expended.

  Somewhere off in the distance Jak heard more boots thudding as if many men were running down a hallway.

  Jak turned slowly to see Brigette standing across the table from him. Where had she come from? She was so beautiful. He could see only her face, all else faded away. She was calling to him, beckoning him to come to her. He began to walk around the table towards where she was standing, but as he did the table disappeared. Now she was sitting on a high backed chair wearing a clinging gown. How had she gotten there? How had he gotten here? Where was here?

  She rose as Jak walked across the floor to meet her. This all seemed far too familiar to him. Had he dreamt all of this before? Or was he dreaming now? He looked at her and wondered how anyone could be so beautiful, but something was not right. It was Brigette, or was it?

  Suddenly, before his eyes, her face changed and contorted and he saw an old woman chained to a wall in a dark cave in the mountains. She had almost no hair, her skin was so wrinkled, and pasty white she was almost unrecognizable as a woman. The woman stood laughing, a shrill cackling laughter……….at him.

  Jak blinked, and Brigette’s beautiful face was peering lovingly up at him. Unexplainably, the thirst began to rise in him but this time it was different. The thirst wasn’t savagely tearing at him forcing him to give in, like it always had before.

  Now the thirst was sweet and calming and it called to him like and old friend. His vision was clouded and tinged with red hues. What was wrong with him? A voice cried out somewhere deep inside him…..RUN! But his feet refused to move. But why should he run from Brigette? He loved her and had finally found her again after all this time.

  She smiled up at him and placed her arms around his neck. He pulled her almost roughly against him. It was Brigette, not the Blood Witch………...witch? What witch? His thoughts were hazy and unclear and he couldn’t think straight. It felt as if he were floating in a dream. Was he dreaming again? He didn’t know any longer. He knew he could feel Brigette in his arms and if it were a dream, he didn’t want to wake. He just wanted to hold her and feel her body pressed against his and nothing else in the world mattered.

  His thoughts cleared for a moment and the pasty white figure of a shriveled hag looked up at him again. Something definitely wasn’t right and he tried to pull away from the woman but her grip was too tight. Almost instantly, Brigette’s beautiful face was back and her lips were almost against Jak’s cheek. But then suddenly he felt her teeth sink deeply into his neck. He tried to cry out in pain but no sound would come.

  The thirst inside Jak surged to a furious level and there was no way he could resist it any longer. He no longer want to resist the thirst, it was familiar and irresistible. So he surrendered to the blissful thirst as he returned Brigette’s kiss by sinking his own teeth into her neck.

  Life, joy, and exultation flowed into him in torrential waves. The amazing feeling he had felt at Hellstone when he drained the man who was about to kill him was just a trickle compared to the raging torrent that he felt now. It was beyond his senses, threatening to overcome him, and he could not contain it all. His vision was clouded, his mind was foggy, and he was beginning to lose consciousness.

  Time seemed to stop, and he floated above the floor in his deadly embrace with Brigette. Suddenly a veil lifted from his eyes and it was as if he was just being born. Everything in his life up until now had just been a dream to him. He was finally awake, finally alive, and most importantly, he was finally with Brigette whom he loved. He would do anything for her. His strength was failing and he could not hold on any longer, it was all too overwhelming.

  He involuntarily released his grip on Brigette and dropped hard to the floor. He was drained completely and too weak to even move. It was as if he was a helpless newborn babe. Nothing wou
ld move except his eyes and he turned them to see Brigette lying next to him on the floor. She was looking into his eyes with a mix of sympathy and consternation. But above all, he thought he could also see love and adoration in her gaze as well, and that was enough for Jak.

  Jak felt a hand on his shoulder but couldn’t even turn to see the source. Benjim’s familiar voice spoke softly, “Why did you do it lad? I thought you were strong enough to resist, now you give me no choice.” The old man’s voice sounded strained with grief and sadness. But where had the old man come from? Jak couldn’t remember.

  The room suddenly exploded into confusion as many armed men burst through the door. They came forward to examine Jak and Brigette cautiously. Jak heard Benjim ordering the men to hurry before the pair regained their strength. Who was the old man talking about? He couldn’t mean him and Brigette. He had shown them that Brigette was not the witch…….hadn’t he? What had the old man meant when he said he had given him no choice?

  Jak felt more hands on him as the men hoisted him onto their shoulders, carrying him through the door and out of the manor to the street. They dropped him heavily on what seemed to be a flatbed wagon. There were sounds of fighting and confusion all around as Zerran led the fight against the last remaining supporters of the witch. The supporters of the witch and the members of the City Watch that were faithful to her seemed to be fighting furiously to set her free. But from the sounds of the battle and the glimpses Jak could catch, it seemed there were far fewer fighting on the side of the witch.

  After a moment, Jak felt something drop hard on top of him and realized it was Brigette. The noise of fighting increased as the hold outs struggled to free their mistress. Jak could hear them shouting for Allysix to free her, and wondered if Benjim and the others had captured the witch. Is that what the followers were shouting about? They seemed to redouble their efforts to break through to get to her. However, the number of armed men Zerran and Luxarn had been able to assemble was too great. They were able to hold off the furious fighting of the witch’s fanatical followers. After what seemed a very long time, the sounds began to dwindle and the fighting subsided, and finally stopped.

  Zerran and the others returned to the wagon where Jak and Brigette were lying. Maybe now the man would finally help Jak to his feet. Instead, Zerran ordered his men to bind him and the witch. Why was Zerran doing this? Where were Jak’s friends to stop him? The men began to bind Jak to Brigette, back to back with large chains, and they were not gentle about it.

  They rolled him over on one side to get the chains underneath him. As they did so, Jak spotted Nicoldani standing to one side watching what was happening. The big man seemed to be injured, but that was not what troubled Jak. The look in Nicoldani’s eyes was one of regret and sadness. The big man peered at him for a moment before turning his back and walking away. There had been tense moments between Jak and the big man at times but Jak had thought they were friends. Why was he turning his back on him now? Why was Nicoldani letting these men do this to him?

  The men binding Jak and Brigette, rolled them onto the other side and Jak saw Benjim standing a few paces off. The kindly old man had a profound look of sadness on his face, but also resignation as he stared at Jak. The old man did not lower his eyes or turn away.

  Benjim too? Why was no one helping him? All Jak’s friends were just turning their back on him now. He couldn’t understand why none of the people he thought were his friends would help him or raise a hand to put a stop to this madness.

  Suddenly through the crowd, Jak saw Gineara running down the street towards him with Mistress Inirae chasing after her. Benjim spotted Gin as she tried to force her way through the crowd and grabbed her before she could reach Jak. Jak could hear her calling for him as she stretched her tiny hand towards him. Tears streamed down her face and she was asking what they were doing to Jak and why. The old man spoke softly to her as she continued struggling, trying to break free to reach Jak. Gin continued to struggle against the old man’s grip for a few moments before finally burying her face in Benjim’s chest and beginning to sob. Her little body was heaving and shaking.

  Jak struggled against his bonds but he still had no strength. Even if he did have strength, the chains were too large and too tight now for even him to break. His eyes filled with tears and he began to cry, not for himself but for Gin. How was he supposed to protect his sister now? What would Gin do without him? He was the only family she had left and he had promised to keep her safe. He hoped Benjim at least, would look out for her and take care of her.

  A crowd began to form around the wagon and thankfully blocked Jak’s view of his baby sister crying. He could hear angry shouts and people began to throw things at him and Brigette. Rotten fruit and vegetables, even rocks pummeled him and Brigette from all sides. After a time, the wagon lurched and began to move forward. Armed men took up positions around the wagon and escorted it down the road. Shouts continued to be heard from the crowd, of ‘witch’ and ‘demon’. They continued to throw things as well, some of them striking Jak in the arms and face as he lay there helpless.

  The wagon slowly made its way down the bumpy street. The sounds of the shouting crowd eventually faded off into distance, and after what seemed a very long time the wagon came to a jerky halt. Jak and Brigette were hoisted from the bed of the wagon by several men and carried for a distance. Jak caught a glimpse of a long plank up ahead that stretched the span between the docks and a ship. Why were they at the docks? What were these men going to do with Brigette and him? The men carried them up the ramp before dropping them hard on the deck of the ship.

  There were people milling about in confusion on the ship not knowing what all the raucous was about. Zerran was ordering men about and trying to find the captain of the ship. Finally, a man stepped out of a door to the cabin and announced that he was the captain of the Flat Fish. Zerran spoke to the captain, giving him instructions on what he was going to do with his new cargo. The captain protested vehemently saying he did not want the Blood Witch on his ship. After much more arguing and shouting the captain finally, reluctantly agreed to carry out the man’s orders, but not before Zerran told him he would arrest him if he did not obey the orders. Zerran continued giving the captain strict instructions to take the witch and her demon, and dump them in the deepest part of the ocean he could find. The ship was to leave immediately and not fail to deliver the cargo to the bottom of the ocean no matter the cost.

  Once again, Zerran and the other armed men approached the bound pair lying on the deck of the ship. Jak could see that the men carried a long wooden spike and large hammer. The men proceeded to roll the pair over with Jak facing down. Brigette’s weight on top of him forced his nose and mouth to be pressed hard on the wet smelly wood of the ship.

  “Wait a moment,” Jak heard one of the armed men say.

  Was someone finally going to put a stop to this? Were they finally going to let him free?

  “Look what we have here,” the man said. “No use throwing this away too. I think I’ll take it for myself. A very fine piece of work it is.” Jak felt the man pull the dagger from behind his belt. It was the dagger Jak had found in the cave, the one that belonged to the Arch-Mordji who had taken the witch to the cave to be imprisoned. The dagger the Arch-Mordji had used to take his own life to protect his secret.

  This man had no right to take it from Jak and the thought made him furious. But his fury was short lived and quickly turned to panic as he heard the dull thud of hammer on wood, and felt pressure on his back like someone punching him hard. Brigette screamed in agony.

  Jak, realizing what was happening, struggled to break free and stop them but he had no strength and the chains were too strong. He was helpless against the men and could not stop them from hurting Brigette. He tried to cry out in anger and frustration but his face was pressed too hard against the dirty wooden deck, so all the came out was a muffled gurgling sound. He would kill them for hurting Brigette. He would kill them all.

  Ano
ther blow of the hammer and Jak felt the sharp pain of the spike entering his own back. Another and another blow of the hammer until the spike protruded from Jak’s chest, and pinned him to the deck. Blood trickled from his nose and mouth from the force of the blows. He labored to breathe but air came reluctantly and the pain was almost unbearable. Not only the pain of the spike driven through his entire body, but also the pain of knowing it had gone through Brigette before it entered him.

  Oddly enough, right then Jak thought back to the words Benjim had spoken to him when he was lying helpless on the floor in the magistrate’s manor. The old man had said, that he thought Jak was strong enough to resist. What had the old man meant by that? Had he finally given in to the thirst and become a monster himself? But kissing Brigette had been so……..exquisite. It had been a kiss hadn’t it? It seemed like an incredibly wonderful kiss to him at the time. How could anything that good be bad? Had he actually fed on her blood instead? He wasn’t entirely sure anymore.

  Since that night in the cave, he wasn’t sure of anything. Was Brigette in fact the Blood Witch like everyone said she was? Did he actually feed on the blood of the witch? The thought made his blood run even colder than it already felt. If he had drunk her blood….did that make him a witch too? He had never heard of a male witch before and the thought seemed absurd. Perhaps he was just a demon or monster instead, like the villagers had said. Maybe this was to be his punishment for what he had become, and for all the people he had killed.