by R. M. Garcia
“Are you ready to give up Abbie?” Stefan asked as he advanced on her once again. Abbie could still not talk as the gash in her throat was still healing. Abbie closed her eyes and began to concentrate. Stefan swung his sword with wicked intentions toward Abbie’s neck. At the last second, Abbie raised her forearm. The saber struck her arm and shattered into several metal shards. “How?” Stefan asked astonished. Abbie sprang up and began hitting Stefan with her fists. They were both as hard as stone now, their normal rosy color now replaced with a pale white texture.
“I told you, I was only getting warmed up!” Abbie screamed in a still raspy voice as she continued to pummel Stefan. Every blow she delivered shattered bones and crushed organs. She drove Stefan back against a tree and she continued to rain blows upon him. The tree began to crack and yield under the power of the blows. Hundred of leaves were dislodged and fell upon them like snow. Stefan brought up two stone-like fists of his own and stuck Abbie on both sides of her head at once. He followed it up by grabbing her head and driving his now stone-like head into hers. The blows both shattered and crushed her skull and left her utterly confused. She took a few steps backward and fell helpless on her back.
“It is quite impressive that you managed to teach yourself the master technique of the Reich,” Stefan said as he forced himself to heal from Abbie’s assault. “It took me fifteen years before I was allowed to train on die Mauer.” Abbie tried to regain her thoughts, but she just could not concentrate to force healing. “Here is your last lesson,” Stefan said. “Crushing a skull will also incapacitate an opponent.” Stefan walked over to Donnie and kicked his body over and away from the boulder. “I will kill you next, boy, you still owe me a debt from the textile mill. What did you call me, motherfucker?” Stefan placed his hands around the boulder Donnie was resting upon and ripped it out of the earth as if it were a mere blade of grass. The boulder was massive, and like an iceberg, the majority of its true size lay underneath the ground. Stefan lifted it high over his head and carried it over to Abbie. The stone was the size of a small car. Abbie began to regain her senses and her vision began to clear, she could hear Stefan speaking once again. “Despite everything, I’ll still make this quick,” Stefan said as he walked over to Abbie with the boulder hoisted above his head. “I will also end your boyfriend’s life, consider it a parting gift.” Abbie’s vision fully cleared as Stefan began driving the boulder on top of her. She lifted her hands and legs and curled up into a ball, and let out a quick scream as Stefan drove the boulder down. The crash of the boulder shook the earth around it, and the forest became quiet once again. “I’m sorry, it came to this Abbie,” Stefan said as he turned around and began walking toward Donnie. “But I will keep my last promise to you and end your boyfriend’s suffering.” He picked up Abbie’s knife, as he approached Donnie, and looked at his mangled body. “I am very impressed that you are still alive after taking the amount of punishment you have endured,” Stefan complemented. “You’re the only human to have ever beaten me, and it seems a shame for you die this way. You deserve a better death than this.” Stefan knelt down and placed the knife to Donnie’s heart. “Out of respect for a worthy adversary, I will make it quick.” Stefan was about to deliver the death blow when a sound caught his ear. He got up and turned around and listened more intently.
Micro fractures, hundreds then thousands of them. They were emanating from inside the boulder; before his eyes, the boulder crumbled into little more than pebbles. Abbie stood up from the rubble; her entire body shone and glowed. The color and appearance of her skin made her look like a china doll. “Hey, I’m not done with you yet,” Abbie said and stumbled as she took a step forward. Her color began to return as her skin softened.
“A full body transformation.” Stefan was amazed. “I never thought it possible for one so young. You would have made an exceptional member of the Reich.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Abbie said as she tried to get back up from her knees.
“The problem with that is that a full body transformation is very taxing, and it uses up a massive amount of blood. Once you take enough damage to break the shell, you’re left quite weakened,” Stefan explained.
“I have more than enough juice left to finish you off,” she threatened.
“Maybe, you did more damage to me than I’d like to admit, but fortunately, I have a nearby source to refuel from,” Stefan said as he knelt down to drink from Donnie.
“Go ahead! Enjoy drinking from another vampire!” Abbie yelled out as she concentrated on healing. Stefan was right, she was running on near empty, any more and she would run headlong into the compound looking for anyone to drink from.
“He’s a vampire, really?” Stefan looked at Donnie carefully and could see that he was indeed healing, ever so slowly. How was that possible he wondered and why was his heart beating? He decided not to debate keeping him alive or not. “That would explain a lot of our questions. Oh well, I’ll just cut off his head and then deal with you.”
“No!” Abbie yelled. “You deal with me!” Abbie said as she desperately tried to get back up.
“I think not. I don’t need to be fighting a battle on two fronts,” Stefan said and started to take a swing. A chipmunk landed on his shoulder and bit his ear. Stefan whirled and tried to grab the small beast, but a bird slammed into his face. Stefan was driven back by the sudden flash of feathers as he stepped back tripped over a beaver and fell onto his back. A swarm of insects attacked him. They seemed to rise and surge from underneath leaves and branches that covered the forest floor. All sorts of beetles, spiders, and worms crawled into his ears, eyes, and mouth and did their best to harm him, stinging and biting him repeatedly. It was several minutes, before Stefan managed to crush every bug, kick the beaver against a tree, swat the bird out of the air, and crush the second chipmunk to death. It was time that Abbie used to heal, but she still needed more time, she was not yet ready to stand.
“What else!” Stefan yelled into the forest, “Anymore annoyances for me to deal with?” He spun around in circles with his arms spread out as if challenging nature itself and it was answered. “Oh scheisse,” Stefan said softly. Abbie marveled at the creature that charged Stefan. A fully grown male moose is an impressive creature and terrifying when it attacks. The moose viciously stampeded over Stefan, stomping him repeatedly. It turned and charged Stefan again. Stefan was able to stand a moment before the moose hit him with its antlers; it propelled him easily high into the air. Stefan was able to spin in midair and landed on his feet, but the moose already had a bead on him. The large bull drove Stefan back and into a tree and attempted to crush him with its seven feet tall, fifteen-hundred-pound frame. As the moose pinned Stefan, Abbie spotted her stake and ran over to it. This was her chance she thought and moved behind the moose. Stefan grabbed the beast’s massive neck and suddenly snapped it. The moose went instantly lifeless, and Stefan pushed him aside. Before Stefan could react, Abbie drove her stake deep into his heart, she made sure her strike was true, and Stefan was instantly paralyzed.
“Abbie, please don’t,” Stefan pleaded.
“Shut up,” Abbie said as she knocked him over and started dragging him over to Donnie.
“Abbie, please don’t kill me,” Stefan begged.
“I promise. I won’t kill you,” she said. She turned Donnie over and opened his mouth.
“What are you doing with your boyfriend?”
“To quote one of my husband’s corny kung fu flicks,” Abbie said and propped Stefan over Donnie. “The student has become the master.” Abbie grabbed her knife and picked up Stefan by his neck. She laid him over Donnie’s open maw and slit his throat. Stefan gurgled as blood poured into Donnie’s mouth. Donnie instinctively latched on and began to drink slowly.
“Abbie, what is happening?” Stefan asked.
“You failed your mission,” Abbie said coldly. Stefan’s agonized screams echoed throughout the forest.
CHAPTER 31
Paradise Lost
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br /> MAXWELL AND HIS men watched as the fog ominously crept forward. They all had been briefed and knew full well what was causing the fog. The men were ready and were confident that they would be victorious this day. “All right, men! This is what you have been trained for,” Maxwell yelled out. “Let the she-vamps get a little closer!” Maxwell was keeping a close eye on the encroaching mist and bode his time. He needed them closer, just a little closer. The fog had almost reached the compound wall. “Now!” Maxwell and his men began unfurling large rolled up blankets of cloth over the walls and began hoisting several T-shaped poles, which also then unfurled rolled up sheets of cloth. On the inside of each blanket were ornately painted crosses. Upon seeing the holy crosses, the vampires of the Adored involuntarily fled backward, leaving the mercenaries exposed. “Mow them down!” Maxwell yelled and began firing his pistol at the now clearly visible mercenary force. The militia began firing their rifles and tossing grenades into the exposed mercenaries. The effect was exactly what Maxwell had planned; his strategy worked to perfection. The mercenaries, now in the open, began firing back while they retreated, but their losses were heavy.
“Damn them!” Frieda yelled.
“Impressive strategy,” Hans complimented. “Let the Bretons handle the crosses. What say you, Samantha?”
“We will handle this minor inconvenience for you,” Samantha replied and began stepping forward with other childlike vampires of the Bretons. Samantha had short red hair and appeared to be about thirteen, which was as old as you would see a Breton. She locked hands with other members of the Breton, and the forest began to shake. Trees were ripped from the earth and hurled telekinetically at the gate and walls of the compound. The majority of the crosses hanging from the walls inexplicably caught fire. Samantha and the other Bretons stepped back. Samantha turned and looked at Hans.
“You may send the fodder back in.” Samantha walked past the near-seven-foot-tall Hans. Frieda grinned evilly and ordered for the attack to resume. Maxwell and his men were forced to move away from the gate as ancient trees were tossed like javelins at them. Several of his men were crushed by the massive projectiles. Maxwell worked frantically to reorganize the men.
“Regroup! Regroup!” Maxwell yelled. “They will be coming again. Get ready! Hold the lines!” The militia returned to their positions and began taking shots at the charging mercenaries. Luther had brought Clara back to the council hall and was watching over her. She was now sitting on the floor, straining to concentrate. Her ability to control emotion was an invaluable asset, but no one knew how long she could maintain it.
“How are you holding up, Clara?” Claude asked.
“I’m doing fine,” Clara replied. Claude turned to Luther.
“You should go and help Luther,” Claude said. “Your presence will help boost everyone’s morale.”
“I need to watch over Mother,” Luther argued.
“I think you will be of more help, leading the Foundlings,” Claude urged.
“I’ll watch her,” Nox said. “No one will get past me.” Luther nodded; he knew Claude was right and that Nox was just a capable fighter as he was.
“It’s all right, child,” Clara said. “I will be safe, go.” Luther grabbed his massive two-handed sword and ran toward the front gate. Luther watched as human mercenaries rushed into the compound, spraying bullets from semi-automatic small arms. He ran headlong into them.
Maxwell fired a flare gun into the night sky and the sniper fire began. One by one, every mercenary that crossed the threshold into Tranquility was picked off by a rifle shot through the head or heart. Maxwell watched helplessly as mist rolled over the walls, grabbed his men, and pulled them over and out of the compound. He tried to drown out the screams that followed once they were lost into the darkness. The firefight continued for over an hour. Most of the mercenaries were either dead or dying, but now the real threat came into view; the vampires finally made their move and crossed the threshold. The Reich, in their SS uniforms, was clearly visible as they brazenly strolled into Tranquility. They dove into Maxwell’s men and began tearing them apart. The bottleneck had failed and the Militia was being driven back. Maxwell fired a second flare and the militia in unison pulled back. The Foundlings charged the gate like a mad horde with Luther leading the charge. Maxwell fired a third flare into the air and the militia and snipers began changing weapons. The snipers shifted to crossbows and the others prepared for close-quarter fighting. His men pulled out swords and stakes and readied themselves to dive into the fray.
Luther’s first swing beheaded a Reich. Its body turned into black sand and fell onto the ground. Several of his brothers in arms did not fare as well. Luther watched as many of the Foundlings began dying all around him. The Reich, being older and having better command of their abilities, were extremely efficient at dispatching opponents and in turn seemed impervious to damage. They shrugged off blows as if they had never been struck at all. Luther watched as sword and axe swings simply deflected off their bodies. Maxwell yelled out and the militia joined into the fray. The tide began to turn. The Reich was indeed formidable, but against twenty humans sticking and slashing at them with swords and stake, they began to fall simply from the sheer numbers that Tranquility was throwing at them. Maxwell continued to bark orders and command his men. The losses were heavy on both sides. The vampires had committed a sizable amount of resources into this attack, and Maxwell was intent on making them regret ever coming here. Nox watched from the entryway to the council house and reported the battle to the elders.
“We are holding them,” Nox said.
“Good,” Claude said. “How are you doing, Clara?”
“Don’t worry about me. I will do this all night if I have to,” she replied.
“Oh no,” Nox said.
“What?” Claude asked.
“The fog is back,” he replied. “It’s rolling into the compound.” The melee outside the council house continued as Frieda and Hans walked through the gates of Tranquility. They looked around and strolled leisurely into the compound.
“We should have just bombed this place,” Frieda commented to Hans.
“I agree, but we need survivors to interrogate. We need to find the location of the other dens,” Hans replied. “This level of organization has the Sources concerned.”
“The leader of this den is one named Claude. I’ll locate and capture him,” Frieda said.
“You have your orders,” Hans said. “I will break this line and find you once we have claimed victory.” Hans walked forward and took note of Luther. Hans quickly determined that this Foundling was their field leader and he headed straight for him. Frieda maneuvered around the main battle, using the fog as cover. She picked up a few grenades from fallen militia men and clipped them onto her belt. Maxwell cursed under his breath, as more and more of his men fell to the clutches of the fog. He needed to intervene. Maxwell pulled his sword and rode into the fog. Maxwell cleared his mind and dismounted from his horse. He waited for the attacks to come. A swirl of mist enveloped him, and he swung his sword. The swing was followed by the sound or breaking glass and fragments of mirrored glass falling to the ground.
“One down, you ugly old hags,” Maxwell yelled. There was an immediate response to his words and more swirls of mist and fog surrounded him. Maxwell smiled. “Gotcha,” Maxwell whispered and began a dazzling display of swordplay. Every swing he took impacted something solid. Arms, legs, and heads began falling from the fog and shattered on the ground below. Broken pieces of mirrored glass rained down all over Maxwell as he dispatched dozens of the Adored. With every strike, more and more of the fog dissipated.
“Quite impressive for a human,” Frieda said as she walked out of thinning fog.
“Then prepare to die in shock and awe,” Maxwell said as he charged Frieda. Frieda pulled out her Lugar pistol and quickly shot Maxwell in the chest. He was knocked off his feet by the point-blank shot.
“The problem with using a sword is that I can still use gun
s,” Frieda said as she walked over Maxwell’s body, placing another shot into his stomach, and continued toward the council house. Hans burst into a full speed charge and dove into the mob of Foundlings, he was tossing them aside like rag dolls and worked his way toward Luther. Within moments, they were face-to-face.
“So, you must be Luther,” Hans said.
“That’s right, Douche mark!” Luther replied as he dispatched another member of the Reich and turned to face the large blonde man before him.
“It is pronounced Deutschmark, you idiot,” Hans replied. “I have longed for a worthy opponent to face for so long. I hope you are up to the challenge. Although I doubt it, you Negros are all brawn and no brains.”
“You want a fight?” Luther asked. “You got one!” Luther charged Hans and began swinging his sword. Hans dodged and ducked under the swings, and for a moment let himself smile. Hans kicked Luther hard and he flew back fifty feet and landed in a pile of wood and then rolled into a muddy puddle. Hans closed the distance right away.
“Motherfucker,” Luther said as he got up. He felt like one of his trainees. This German was good. The sword would not work; he was just too fast despite his size. Luther decided that he would need to handle Hans, mano a mano.
The militia fought bravely, showing no signs of tiring or demoralization. In fact, every time one of their numbers fell, the others rallied and overran the vampire and killed him or her. Even when the Bretons began pulling them out of the compound by the dozens, or when the remaining Adored descended on them and began ripping them to pieces, they did not relent. The militia was driven almost to the point of madness, and it was taking its toll on the vampire executioners.
