The Chaos Order (Fanghunters Book Three)

by Leo Romero

  “Hold on!” Trixie yelled.

  The wave hit them and they were buoying again. Trixie held on, her body thrown from side-to-side, up and down. Her side jarred against the deck and she groaned. When the wave dissipated, she looked back at where the enemy boat had been. Now there were just pieces of floating wood, tremoring on the vibrating water. The remaining monk and thug were desperately swimming in the current. Trixie didn’t fancy their chances.

  A small grin opened up on her face. That was one way of dealing with them. But, they were still in trouble. All it took was a tree falling on them and they were all done for. A seedpod bombed into the river just next to them and they were rocking once more.

  Trixie snapped her head around to face the other two, just as she got another splash of water in the face. “We gotta get outta here!” she screeched. “NOW!”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Reality set in hard. This wasn’t over. Dom had to get back in the game or it would all be for nothing. Get the Fangs and get out!

  He whipped his head up to meet Magdalena’s prone body. She was motionless. All around him that incessant hissing continued, their mother, the Unholy Mother, had finally been extinguished.

  Dom took a long breath, and then rose to his feet, his body aching and battered. With a small limp, he staggered over to her side, her massive frame coming into view. Her glazed eyes stared longingly at the ceiling, pure black and bloodshot. Her jaw was agape, her twisted and bent fangs prominent. Dom winced; he wondered how many snakes those things had torn asunder over the centuries in this very room.

  He ran his eyes down her grotesque body; the skewer had hit the bullseye, puncturing her very heart. The vamp’s Achilles heel. Her chest had burst open under the pressure, the skin torn like fabric. He gulped, his eyes coming down further. Those mummified arms and legs stitched to her waist were splayed left and right; thin, emaciated, with the texture of beef jerky. Dom could hardly believe he’d actually taken this brute on and survived.

  His eyes then zoned in on the things lying on her neck. The Fangs of Moroz. They sat there, ready and waiting for him. That’s what Vincent sent him here for.

  Go get em!

  He steadied himself, then shuffled in closer. He bent down, the intricate swirls tattooed into her rubbery skin in full view. They twirled across her body like whirlpools.

  With a trembling hand, he reached across her body toward her neck, careful and slow as if attempting to steal honey from a beehive. He held his breath as his fingertips edged closer to those fangs around her neck. The prize; the thing they’d traveled so far and wide for.

  Easy, Dom. Easy, he told himself, globules of sweat forming on his brow and dripping down his forehead. Even though she was dead, he still didn’t want to even touch her.

  He wiggled his fingertips on the air as they drew closer to her neck.

  Easy, easy...

  He brushed the nearest of the Fangs of Moroz and a surge of ice shot through him like an electrical charge. He began trembling, his body temperature plunging, the very blood in his veins running frosty. He withstood the urge to pull back and curled his fingers around the necklace, his knuckles rubbing against her tough skin. He grabbed hold of the chain and gave it a sharp pull. It snapped in two as it came away.

  He stood and looked down at the things now in his hand. The Fangs of Moroz. He had them. Finally. A sense of triumph shot up into his chest.

  And then ice began to pulsate up his arm. He glared down at the Fangs in confusion. A deep-rooted iciness was spreading around his body as the seconds ticked by. A deep freeze. His breath was stolen from his chest; he struggled to inhale his next. Then, a voice spoke to him. A long dead, cold voice from the void.

  “You killed those people,” it said in a hot whisper. “You... liked it, didn’t you?”

  Dom’s eyes widened. Images of the guy he dropped from the edge of the I-Sore Tower tumbled down his mind. Then, those guys in the boat he shot with the crossbow. He saw himself, laughing, enjoying the act of murder, basking in the joy of bloodlust.

  “How about my daughter?” the voice then ventured. “You enjoyed taking her. You found her satisfying. I can feel it.”

  Dom shook his head. “No,” he uttered.

  “Yes!” retorted that voice. “You enjoy the power, the satisfaction of extinguishing life, of putting out that flame. You like spilling blood. You relish the way it flows and gleams, both vampire and human. Join us. Join us, and I will make you all powerful. I will help you quench your thirst for power, satiate your bloodlust. I will make you whole.”

  Dom closed his eyes; in his mind, he could feel the Father’s misty tendrils infecting his brain, weaving their way along its folds and ripples. The dark side of him was open, fully accepting of the invasion emanating from the fangs in his hand.

  “No,” he whispered, although the answer was fast becoming ‘yes!’ He enjoyed the power rush, the kill, the hunt, taking those lives and consuming their souls. He found himself wanting to slip into the void, to swim in seas of blood and torment.

  “Give yourself to us,” that voice said.

  Dom’s eyes rolled up into his head. The Fangs were compelling him to spill more blood. To kill, to murder.

  “The time will come, young one. The time for you to make your choice. Join us, join us and we will bathe the world in blood and darkness and drown everything in the mire as all of your desires and compulsions will become reality.”

  Dom juddered with cold, his grip on the Fangs tight.

  “Join us, join us, join us...” that voice cooed.

  Dom began nodding. Yes, Father, he said in his mind. Yes, Father, yes, Father, yes—

  “Hey! Dom!”

  The voice snapped Dom out of his stupor.

  He gave his head a brisk shake, like he was waking from a dream. He was back in the chamber of Magdalena, her dead body by his feet. He stared down at the Fangs in bewilderment. “What the hell am I thinking?” he asked himself in disgust. Whatever it was, he knew those fangs were trouble. He stuffed them into the side pocket of his combat pants, wanting to take them out of his sight, not wanting to not touch them any longer.

  The moment they lost contact with his skin, that coldness left as fast as it came.

  “Psst! Dom!” That voice again, puncturing the hissing.

  Dom looked around. “Where are you?” he asked out loud, not seeing anything but solid walls.

  “Down here!”

  Dom frowned, then edged closer to the snake pit. He craned his neck down, his eyes running along the pit until it met the wall next to him. Attached to the lower portion of the pit wall was a grating; the snakes slithered in and out through it to whatever chamber was beyond. A pair of hands had hold of the grating bars. A pair of dirty, sunburned hands.

  “Troy?” Dom asked in disbelief. “Is that you?”

  “The one and only,” Troy replied, now pressing his face up against the grating, his nose poking through the bars.

  “How did you get in there?”

  “The pilgrimage is a lie,” Troy said, his voice laced with deep chagrin. “I thought I was gonna be a king,” he added in a glum tone. “And for a little while, I was. Now, I’m back to being a nobody.”

  Dom sighed. “That truly sucks, buddy.”

  “Yeah. I mean look, even all these snakes ain’t interested in me.” The snakes just slithered in and out of the grating, totally ignoring him. He then met Dom’s stare. “Can you get me out of here?”

  Dom looked down. The snake pit slithered endlessly. “I can’t, Troy. The snakes.”

  Troy’s face slumped. “That means I’m stuck here.”

  An intense rumble then made Dom teeter. It swiftly developed into a full blown shaking of the chamber. Dom had to wave his arms on the air to keep his balance.

  Troy’s eyes widened. “What’s going on?” he shouted above the cacophony.

  The rumbling continued regardless, causing the precious treasures to rattle. Dom lurched around, the once s
teady floor now unstable. A thunder-like clap rocked the chamber; an almighty crack split the wall ahead of them both, releasing ancient dust and mud. The crack opened up like a zipper, severing the chamber in two; it ran toward Dom like a flame along a line of gunpowder. He leaped to the side before it tore him in half as well. He rolled over and threw his head back the way it came; he was met with a seemingly bottomless hole that the snakes in the pit slipped into and vanished forever.

  He stared into that abyss in sheer terror.

  The rumblings intensified; some of the stones making up the walls slipped out and crashed to the ground. Dom’s mind went into a panic; he knew if he stayed where he was, he’d be crushed. A rock pummeled into the ground about a foot away and bounced off into the crack. Dom watched it with a slack jaw. Next time he wouldn’t be so lucky.

  “Dom!” he heard Troy yell above the madness. Dom jumped to his feet and leapfrogged the giant crack, just as it widened further. He teetered on the brink, his arms flailing. He caught a glimpse of Troy, who was still behind the grating. “What the hell’s going on?” Troy screeched, his eyes popping out of his skull.

  The tremors continued unabated. A massive crack shot down the wall toward the grating; the wall pulled apart as if lined with opposing magnets.

  Troy’s eyes rolled upward. “Woah,” was all he said, the ceiling above him cut in half. His eyes rolled down; the grating bars were now loose in his hands. A grin spread across his face. “Freedom!” he shouted, throwing the bars to the side. He jumped into the snake pit beyond. He grabbed hold of the ledge and tried to pull himself up to where Dom was stationed. The moment his feet left the floor of the pit, it split in two. Snakes rained down into the black hole beneath. Troy looked down in horror; a second longer and he’d have vanished with the snakes. He flipped his head back Dom’s way. “Help me up!” he screeched.

  Dom reached down and grabbed his hand; he yanked him up. “Man, you’re heavy!”

  Troy scrambled up the ledge, his feet running on air.

  Eventually, Dom levered him up. They both fell back just as the rumbling cooled off.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Troy asked Dom with fearful eyes.

  Dom got to his feet and looked around; the room was zigzagged with open crevasses. He rubbed his head, thankful for a breather from the rumbling; it gave him a chance to work on an escape plan.

  Troy got to his feet and dusted off his Hawaiian shirt. His eyes fell on Magdalena. “So, there she is. My bride.” He squinted. “Man, looks like I dodged a bullet!” he said, his face contorted.

  The ground beneath them rumbled once more and Troy was air swimming to retain his balance.

  Dom smashed shoulder-first into the nearest wall. “We gotta get outta here!” he shouted, just as the rumble subsided.

  Troy fell to his knees. When he lifted his head up, he locked eyes with the treasures. Gold pots, ornate carvings, emerald-studded statues. His eyes lit up. “Woah! Look at all this! We’re rich!”

  Dom staggered over to his side, his head whirling left and right, looking for a means of escape.

  Troy grabbed Dom’s leg and shook it like an excited child. “Ha ha! We’re rich!”

  “We’ll be dead if we don’t get outta here!”

  Another colossal rumble split open the wall to the left. Then, from beyond, water began pouring through the crack. Dom’s eyes bulged. He staggered to the edge of the ledge. Water was now rising from the tears in the snake pit. The place was gonna be a fish tank pretty soon.

  Dom gulped. “How are we gonna get outta here?” he shouted.

  “Beats me!” Troy replied, his eyes fixed on the small statue in his hand. He stuffed it inside his shirt and reached for another. A big rumble sent them both reeling. They fell into the snake pit, which was now filled with water. Dom propelled himself up to the surface of the rising water. A snake swam past him; on its way it raised its head and hissed at him. Dom froze. The snake slipped by, more concerned with finding a way out.

  Troy’s head burst through the surface of the water next to him. “Man, I needed a shower, but this is ridiculous!”

  The water continued to rise at a crazy rate, the room filling. The gush of water was hot in Dom’s ears. The ceiling was fast coming into view. Soon, they’d be trapped. Ahead of them, Magdalena’s corpse rose with the water. Troy then began flapping his arms; he was dragged under by the weight of the statue he’d stuffed in his shirt.

  Dom groaned, spitting water out of his mouth; it was dirty, grainy, tasted like liquid mud. He grabbed a breath and ducked under; everything became muted. Through the dirty water, he could make out Troy struggling down below. Dom dived toward him past the wriggling snakes. He grabbed hold of Troy’s shirt and pulled the statue out from under it. Troy grabbed hold of the statue and shook his head, small bubbles floating out of his nostrils. Dom nodded, and yanked the statue from Troy’s grip. Dom then let it go; it sunk to the bottom of the water. While Troy watched it go, Dom grabbed his shirt and pulled him up with him. They both broke the surface of the water.

  “What did you do that for?” Troy barked.

  “Cause you were about to die!”

  “What about all the treasure?”

  “Screw the treasure! What about our lives?”

  The water then doused the torches on the wall, dumping them into darkness. Liquid darkness.

  “We’re done for,” Troy said in a panic. “What do we do?”

  “Hold your breath!” Dom said, his mouth filling with water. The water level touched the ceiling. Now they were under the water permanently.

  The world turned thick, muted.

  Panic took hold of Dom; he flapped in the darkness, the heaviness of the water sapping his energy. Snakes slithered by, brushing past him in a state of alarm. In no time, his lungs began to burn. They were expanding; he was desperate for a breath, for some air, just a tiny bit of air. Something gripped hold of his legs; human hands. Troy. Probably overcome with fear as much as Dom was right then. Drowning to death was a stark reality, and Troy probably didn’t want to die alone.

  They couldn’t hold out much longer. Dom’s chest was fire, an over-expanded balloon about to burst. Panic signals shot up into his brain. I’m dying! it screamed in desperation. Oxygen! Give me oxygen! NOW!

  But there was none to give. Water burned up his nostrils.

  Consciousness started to evaporate. Darkness falling over everything. So long, buddy, Dom said to himself as he thrashed in the water. So long...

  Everything went into a rumble again. There was a massive thud, the sound dulled by the water. Before Dom could react, an extreme suction pulled him back; he was effortlessly dragged through the water like a spider sucked through a plughole, his arms flailing, Troy still clutched to his leg. His eyes snapped open; huge bubbles bolted from his mouth as the vortex hauled him in. He scrambled to grab hold of something, but he was moving through the water like a piece of dirt sucked up by vacuum cleaner. Before he knew it, he was at the far wall of the chamber. Panic erupted in his mind; he’d smash into it and likely break his spine. But, there no wall there any longer. Instead, he was pulled through the giant crack where the water originally flowed in.

  Before he knew it, he was beyond the wall and into a new body of water. The world then descended into a darkened water park ride. They were both thrown left and right within the water like ragdolls caught in a typhoon, performing twists and summersaults, totally out of control, all the while his lungs and brain screaming for oxygen. But, there was none to inhale in this terrifying ride into the unknown. He was in the hands of another power, as helpless as a leaf caught in a hurricane.

  He was thrown further along where an opposing current took control and pushed him in a different direction. At the same time, this new stretch of water pushed him upward. Dom took the initiative. He thrust upward alongside it, rapidly gaining buoyancy. His lungs were the size of melons in his chest, ready to explode. He pushed for the surface of the water with all his might, aided by th
is new current.

  Come on, come on, where are you?

  The surface felt like it would never arrive. His mind was a cavern of panic

  Come on, come on.

  His lungs screamed.

  WHERE ARE YOU?

  Everything went black for a brief moment; silent like a film reel being cut.

  Then, he finally burst through the surface of the water. He threw his arms up, his mouth bolting open as wide as it could in a colossal inhale of glorious air; it flew into his system, intoxicating like drugs, his lungs finally able to relax. His limbs juddered under the strain, his veins and arteries greedily sucking up the wonderful oxygen and shooting it up to his starved brain. All around him, the Amazon jungle was in a panic; trees rustled, animals screeched in terror.

  But before he could bask in the freedom of finally having air to breathe, he was forced under once more. He was dashed further along the river, the tremors ongoing. He was chucked over to the side of the river like a balloon where his legs bashed against the shallower riverbed. He popped up from the surface of the river once more, gasping for breath. He began paddling like a crazed dog toward the riverbank in all its muddy glory just ahead of him. His burned lungs ached as he drew in ragged breaths, the current pushing small waves into his face just to torture him further.

  He made it to the bank and threw his arms in an exaggerated fashion up and out of the water. He slapped them down on the mud and dug his fingers in deep, anchoring himself. He used the last remnants of his strength to drag his weary body up onto the land; the feel of the mud was heavenly like an ice-cold Bud.