V Games_Fresh From The Grave

by Caroline Peckham

  I cried out in fear of his death, shaking Thames off, suddenly running like a mad thing toward him.

  He just needs to drink, then he'll be fine.

  Then this will stop.

  Eesha slammed a stake into his stomach before he flung an arm at her, knocking her into a tree. She slumped to the ground and he approached, his head hanging low as he prepared to feed.

  My breathing was ragged as I halted behind him. Taking my stake, I made a desperate decision and dragged the tip across my bare shoulder to draw blood.

  A suicidal idea, but the only one I had at that moment. I had to make him stop hurting the other girls. And if he fed from me, he might find his way back to humanity.

  Varick snapped around, his eyes pinned on the blood leaking from my shoulder, his pupils dilating with hunger. My body shuddered, trembling from head to toe as I forced myself to remain in place before him.

  He moved in a flash. But before he reached me, Thames appeared, screaming her rage and slamming a stake into his chest.

  I screamed out in horror, running forward. “No!”

  Varick stumbled backwards and Thames grabbed me before I could get to him. My hands reached over her shoulders, desperate, flailing, my fingertips grazing nothing but air.

  “What are you doing?!” Thames screeched at me, shoving me backwards and forcing me away from Varick.

  With a wave of relief that crashed across my heart, I spotted him fleeing into the trees, dripping dark, blackish-red blood behind him.

  I was a mess, shaking, clinging onto Thames as I tried to steady my thoughts.

  Only four of us remained from the carnage. Eesha was holding back tears as she caressed the cheeks of her two friends and Veta looked like a statue, standing by the trees with two girls dead at her feet, her eyes pinned on the burning form of Rosaleen at the heart of the fire.

  In the blink of an eye, our whole world had shattered.

  “We burn the rest,” Veta said, wiping sweat from her brow. “That V must not get blood.”

  Thames set me down on a log, giving me a wary look before helping Veta and the others pile the bodies onto the fire.

  I'd never been so rattled. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I was torn between my need to help Varick and my disgust at what he'd done.

  Thames knelt before me after what felt like an age. I was numb, trembling, my mind retreating to somewhere far away.

  “We have to move.”

  “Yes,” I breathed as she wiped a speck of blood from my cheek and pulled me to my feet.

  “Should have listened to her in previous time,” Veta muttered in broken English and Eesha let out a strangled sob.

  I marched into the trees, moving as fast as my feet would carry me, the other girls following close behind.

  Thames occasionally caught my eye; so many questions burned out of her expression. But I didn't say a word, just pressed my lips together and kept walking. On and on into a darkness that seemed to live in my heart as much as it lived in this forest. And I didn't know how I would ever find the light again.

  Cass

  I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to kill over and over and over. But I was still too much of a coward to let myself die. I stood within the large ring of silver, a dead Vampire at my feet, her skull broken in.

  I was an animal. Worse than that. I was killing for the entertainment of the men watching up above, leaning on the railing sipping on whiskey and port. Disgusting. I was an Alsation in a dog fight.

  But with every round I won, they gave me blood. And I was too weak to refuse it.

  Shots were fired at my feet to herd me back through a door that led to a row of cages. I headed into mine, finding a vile of blood left for me on the bench. I ripped out the cork and downed it, shaking every last drop onto my outstretched tongue.

  “I think you're out, Firefly.”

  I snapped around at the voice, the vile dropping from my hand and clinking as it hit the floor. Jameson was sitting in the cell next to mine, looking better than I was faring. His clothes weren't stained with blood or ripped from claws that had tried to end him.

  “You're here,” I stated, unsure how to respond to the lightness filling my chest. I'm sure it had more to do with the blood than him. But I couldn't deny seeing a friendly face was a godsend at that moment. I hadn't spoken to anyone since I'd last seen him.

  “I am.” He stood, stretching his spine. “I saw you fighting, I'm guessing it'll be my turn next.”

  “Lucky you,” I sighed.

  “At least our living quarters are real comfortable,” he dead-panned, gazing around at the cold stone floor and silver bars surrounding us.

  “You always this upbeat?” I asked flatly, pacing up and down.

  He shrugged. “I like to think of myself as a positive person.”

  I shook my head at him. How did he manage to keep a smile on his face during this nightmare?

  I huffed, turning away from him. It was too irritating. “Well I don't need your positivity.”

  “What do you need?”

  “I dunno? A key to my cell?”

  He laughed and I bit back a smile. I was not going to let this guy under my skin. Chances were he'd be dead within a day or two. I didn't need the guilt, I didn't want any more pain. I'd lost enough already.

  “Well I'll get out of here one way or another, I guess I could bring you with me when the time comes.”

  I turned to him, finding him sprawled out on the floor with his hands behind his head. His shirt was riding up to his midriff. A guy like that would have had me on my knees in my human life. But desire wasn't something I was capable of now. Least of all when I was trapped in a cage, being forced to fight round after round in death matches against other Vampires. So why did he look so bloody at ease?

  “Right, thanks. You do that.”

  “I will get out of here, so I'd sign up to the deal now while it's still going.” He grinned, glancing at me.

  I shook my head. “You're as dumb as you look.”

  “Then I must be really smart.”

  “A smartass maybe.” I turned away again, continuing to stride up and down.

  “You got a boyfriend?” Jameson asked, raising his brows.

  I glared at him, a memory of my last partner shooting through me. “What kind of question is that?”

  He sat up, shrugging. “You're hot...I'm hot. Seemed like an obvious one.”

  I raised my hands, gesturing to our cells. “What part of 'we're prisoners' do you not get? Have you lost a screw or something?”

  “Nope.” He stood, tugging up his jeans. “All my nuts and bolts are definitely intact.” He winked and I glowered at him. “So, have you?” he prompted.

  I stalked toward the bars, keeping a centimetre away from the silver as I glared at him. “If you haven't already noticed, I'm a blood-sucking Vampire.”

  “But you are female.” His grin widened and I fought the urge to risk the silver and slap him through the bars.

  “That's your standard is it? Female?”

  He pressed his tongue into his cheek. “Bonus points for red hair and pale skin - that combination pretty much rocks it for me.”

  “Good to know. I'll be sure to shave my head when I get the first opportunity.”

  “Harsh,” he muttered, folding his arms. “Do you really not find me attractive?”

  I looked him up and down, sensing he genuinely wanted to know the answer. It was definitely a golden opportunity to scold him. “In what universe would I find a stinking wolf attractive?”

  “This one?” he asked hopefully.

  His words caught me off guard and a snort of laughter escaped me. Bloody wolf boy. What on earth had my life become?

  He grinned satisfactorily and his expression reminded me of my last boyfriend. My stomach writhed and the smile fell from my face.

  “What?” he asked and I shrugged, heading to the furthest corner of my cage. He tried to draw me back into conversation more than once, but I ignored him,
hugging my knees to my chest and thinking over the path that had led me here. If I'd done things differently, I could have avoided this fate. If I'd only taken a moment to act rationally, everything might be alright.

  3 Years Ago

  Blake and I had fallen into a routine. He met me on the hill every Sunday for several weeks. I'd go to his house, use his shower, eat his food then he'd drive me home – dropping me a street away from my house so my Dad wouldn't see.

  I lived for Sundays. I became so dependent on them that the rest of my week became a blur. Sunday was spring and summer all at once, the rest of my life was the depths of winter.

  One day, it finally happened. Something I'd been dreaming about for so long, I couldn't remember when it had first begun. Blake asked me to have dinner with him. Not on a Sunday, but a Tuesday. And then every Tuesday after that. And my days with him began to spread like wildfire. Sunday slurred into Monday which melded into Tuesday. We'd rarely leave his flat; my haven. I didn't want to go anywhere else anyway. Me and him in a tiny little world of our own.

  Weeks turned into months and months into a year, and before I knew it we were living together. I left my home behind at last. I didn't have to wake up to the sound of a clicking lighter. I woke in Blake's arms, in clean clothes, with fresh food on the table every morning.

  I made a habit out of cooking. I got good at it. I loved to try new recipes and even made some of my own after a time. But as our first Christmas together rolled around, I noticed something. I had never, in all the time we'd been together, met a single friend or family member of Blake's. It was obvious why I would never have introduced him to my family. But what about his?

  I addressed it one evening a few weeks before Christmas, wrapped in warm jumpers and sipping on mulled wine.

  “Will we spend Christmas with your parents?” I asked.

  Blake had his leg curled over mine. He always wanted to be touching me when we were together, his fingers between mine or his head resting on my shoulder. He liked to be close and I'd spent so long alone that I liked it too.

  “No, not this year,” he said evasively.

  “When will I meet them?”

  He kissed my forehead, changing the channel over on the TV. “Soon.”

  But soon never came and as the new year passed by and Blake continued to spend long hours at his job, going to bars with his friends and making excuses for why I couldn't come, I began to suspect he was keeping me from them on purpose. Was he ashamed of me?

  I confronted him early February, just after I got home from school. I had a couple of months left before I graduated and the world seemed to be opening up before my eyes. I had to decide what I wanted to be, and the options seemed endless.

  “Perhaps we could go out with your friends sometime?” I asked.

  “Well the boys like to get away from their girlfriends, you understand right?”

  I nodded, letting it slide, but a tightness in my gut made me suspect he was lying. His phone pinged and he snatched it from the kitchen table before I could hand it to him.

  “Who's that?”

  “Work,” he said, pulling on his jacket. “I've gotta go in tonight. See you in the morning, okay?”

  It wasn't okay. And I was overcome with the urge to follow him. Just to be sure he really was going in to work. It wasn't the first time he'd run off at the sight of a text.

  And that night, my world was torn apart. I followed him to a bar around the corner from our place. He was with a girl, his arm draped around her as they sat with a group of friends. I watched through the window, my life crashing down around me.

  The problem was, I'd become completely dependent on him. My world didn't hold together without him in it. I was a stray dog who'd been taken in and fallen in love with her master.

  I wasn't proud of what I did next. I let the weeks slide by. Pretended I hadn't seen it. Followed him on every occasion I could just to watch them together. Her with her beautiful blonde hair and full pink lips. She looked nothing like me. They kissed often. I even saw him take her out with his parents once.

  And all along I stayed, feeding myself lies to make it endurable. I was the one he came home to. I was the one in his bed. Not her.

  But one morning he told me to leave.

  “Cass, this has been fun, really. But I just need some space. You moved in so suddenly and I think it would be good if we were apart for a while.”

  There's only so hard you can fall for someone before you either hit the ground or start flying. And I hit it harder than I knew was possible.

  I was a mess, sobbing, begging, on my knees asking him to let me stay. Revealing that I'd seen him with the other girl. That I knew what had been happening and I forgave him anyway.

  When he finally dumped me outside my house with two bags, I was broken. More broken than I had been before I met him. I went inside and did the one thing I vowed I'd never do. For my sake. For my mother's. I pushed a needle in my arm and let the heroin do the rest.

  When I came down from the high, I was filled with the kind of emptiness that only heartbreak can cause. Love had rotted away my heart. In its place was pain, anger and vengeance.

  The lighter I'd used to melt the heroin was still in my hand. A silver zippo with a naked woman on the side. Coiled around her were the words: Man may have discovered fire, but women discovered how to play with it.

  I stood, numb, walking foot after foot, past my unconscious father, out the front door, moving in the direction of Blake's flat. I was frozen to the bone by the time I arrived, my thoughts dull, my body aching with despair. I thought of them wrapped around one another in our bed. Him and the woman he offered everything that he hadn't ever offered me.

  Perhaps that's why he'd wanted me to leave, to bring her home that night. To make their love official, whilst simultaneously burning ours to the ground. And if he wanted it to burn, he was about to get his wish.

  I rubbed my eyes, forcing the memories away. The blood had given me enough humanity back to feel it. The weight of what I'd done. All the people I'd killed in the fire. The families I'd ruined - all because of a broken heart. This body was my punishment. I would crave blood for an eternity. I'd never love again. And there was a justice in that that prison would never have provided.

  “You alright, firefly?” Jameson asked.

  “I told you not to call me that,” I breathed, pressing my hands to my ears to block him out.

  An hour or so passed before the guards came for him, forcing him out of his cell with guns pointed at his head. He glanced back at me as he stepped into the small arena, a sad look on his face that said, It's going to be alright.

  I didn't know why he had so much hope. But it finally cracked my exterior like an egg against a knife. As the door slid shut and I lost sight of him, I prayed he'd come back.

  Selena

  I should have gone after Varick. That's what I thought after hours of walking west. Why didn't I follow him?

  The answer came to me as clear as day: fear.

  I was terrified. Not only of him, but for him. And I didn't know if I was ready to face him yet. I wasn't sure even how to save him. And worst of all, I didn't know if he would want to be saved. How would he react when he found out what he'd done to all those girls? The memories would eat him alive.

  No, I couldn't go back. Despite knowing he was injured and in a desperate state that only I held the answer to. Blood. My blood. That's all he needed.

  But I was a coward. Weak. And entirely lost.

  The girls continued to follow me, though I didn't know why. I checked my map continually and marched on ahead of them, refusing to answer their questions for so long that they had finally given up asking.

  The woodland eventually met with higher ground and we climbed upwards past mossy boulders and fallen trees, moving toward a more exposed land where the wind battered the forest. The trees soon thinned and the soft ground merged into a narrow, stony path that wound through huge rock formations, damp from the clinging
mist.

  I drank the V blood Thames offered me, healing the cut I'd inflicted on myself to get Varick's attention. But I couldn't stop thinking about how far I was willing to go for a Vampire I barely knew. My whole life, I'd been guarded, wary. So what made him any different? Why was I offering so much of myself to someone whose past could be traced in footsteps of blood?

  So can yours, Selena.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing away the thought.

  As we crested a high hill, I climbed atop a boulder, squinting toward the horizon to try and see the path ahead. It was dark; the clouds had been growing thicker by the minute. Tension crackled in the air and the distant rumble of thunder forewarned us of a storm. I checked the timer on my tablet, finding we had twelve hours remaining. We'd walked through the night and everyone but Thames was looking exhausted, me included.

  According to the map, the safe zone was on the other side of these hills, but it was riddled with canyons, making the path forward unclear.

  “Rest,” Veta announced, dropping down to the ground. She opened her pack and took out an energy bar. The others mimicked her, but my stomach was too tied up in knots for me to eat. I sat atop the boulder, keeping my distance, but Thames scrambled her way up to join me, her legs folded beneath her.

  “You gonna tell me why you went all nutso over that V back there?” Thames offered me a curious look, not seeming remotely judgmental.

  I lifted my knees, resting my elbows on them and hanging my head. “It's complicated.”

  “I was banking on that.” She took a large bite of her energy bar, watching me like her favourite film was about to start.

  I sighed, glancing toward the horizon where the sky was as black as coal. Lightning flashed within the clouds, illuminating them in a white, pulsing light for half a second. It wasn't that I cared about Thames hearing my reasons. But the spectators were watching. How far would my rating drop if they knew I cared about a V?

  “I know him,” I said at last, deciding to give just enough information. If the spectators from the last game were watching, then no doubt they already knew the story of Varick helping me.