by Stead, Nick
We started forward, ready to attack anything that moved. But the attack never came. Even when we stepped up to the door on the other side, still the room remained devoid of any enemies for us to fight.
I glanced at Zeerin and we shared a look.
“Let’s try going round the perimeter,” he said.
I followed his lead, checking the walls as we went. There was nothing of interest. No hidden doors appeared, and whatever mechanism would free us from this room remained elusive. But there had to be one. They’d already had the opportunity to leave us to rot, so why seal us in here when they’d already had us trapped before?
“We must be missing something,” Zeerin said. “Try searching the ground – there might be something buried in the soil we can use.”
“That’s going to take forever,” I groaned, feeling like I’d rather have something to fight.
“What other choice do we have? You can try smashing your way through the door if you want but you already broke your hand once. If this is some elaborate test, I think we’ll have more luck trying to solve whatever puzzle this is.”
His words made sense and I was much more willing to listen to reason after allowing my mind to become whole again. Part of me would have preferred to summon the rage and attempt to use brute force though, now I had the energy to transform and the greater strength of my lupine nature to call on. There was no escaping the impatience of my human side, and the need for violence – it would always be there. But that rash impulsiveness was now balanced out by the patience of the wolf in me. A hunt would always be more successful through stalking prey and waiting for the opportune moment to strike, rather than blindly running headlong into the herd. For a mortal wolf anyway, and my lupine instincts were a relic of my wolf ancestry, before the curse had allowed us to become so much more than any mortal beast could ever be. Much as I’d always favoured the quickest approach as a human, it wasn’t always the most effective.
The minutes dragged on as we sifted through the dirt, trying to find the answer to this riddle we were trapped in. It was Zeerin who found the first clue: a stone slab in the far left corner of the room.
“I’ve got something,” he said.
“What?”
He didn’t answer, his eyes fixed on the ground. Then he stepped on it, and there was an audible click.
I looked around but nothing seemed to have changed. “Okay, so what did that do?”
“I think it’s a part of the answer to opening the door. Perhaps one of us has to stand on this, and the other has to activate something else to trigger the unlocking mechanism?” He stepped off the pressure pad and his eyes returned to the ground.
“Okay, I’ll keep looking,” I sighed.
I found a similar stone in the left corner at the opposite end of the chamber, and moments later we found a third halfway along the wall on the right side.
“So we need to stand on these to open the door, you reckon? How the hell are we meant to do that when there’s only two of us?” I said.
Zeerin gave me an amused smile and began to disarm, laying his cutlass and pistols on the stone slab on the right. Then he took up position on the stone he’d found on the left, with another click from the hidden mechanism.
“Oh, right,” I said, feeling foolish. I went to stand on the opposite stone and I heard a second click, but still nothing happened. A growl of frustration rumbled through my throat. “Guess you’re not as clever as you thought. So what now?”
Zeerin shot me an irriated look. “Perhaps my weapons aren’t heavy enough. We must still be missing a piece to this puzzle.”
He stepped off his slab and knelt to examine it. I mirrored him, but I could see no clues as to what we were doing wrong.
“This is hopeless,” I said. “We’re going to be stuck in here until the Slayers either grow bored and let us out, or we starve to death. Why couldn’t they just give us more enemies to fight? I’ll take action over puzzles any day.”
Zeerin was already examining the slab on the right. He raised his eyes to give me another amused smile. “Don’t give in just yet. Look.”
I joined him, to find he was pointing at a groove in the stone. It sloped downwards, and there was a small hole at the end of it, just wide enough for me to poke one of my long, skinny fingers through. It felt like the hole was in fact the opening to a little tunnel carved into the stone, but it was longer than my fingers so whatever was at the end remained a mystery. I tried digging round the slab to get a look at the other end, but the soil wasn’t particularly deep in this chamber and it was rock beneath, which the stone slab was set into.
“Okay, great – we found a clue. I’d still prefer some action.”
“I’m sure you’ll soon get your wish.”
“So what do you think this is?”
“Judging from that message on the wall, I would guess the Slayers want a blood payment to open this door. That looks like it’s made for liquid to run down, and if they want us to suffer then what else would they expect us to sacrifice?”
“So the blood trickles down that hole into some mechanism we can’t see, some other thing triggered by weight I guess? That would explain why your weapons alone wouldn’t do it. But unless your weapons are heavy enough for one of the other two slabs, we can’t stand over this one feeding it blood to open the door.”
“Then you need to cut yourself and let it bleed into the stone before taking up position on one of the others. It has to be you, since my body won’t recover from the loss without feeding again.”
“I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.” My eyes fell on something we’d overlooked in the dirt, the flash of metal acting as a summons. I reached out to grab the blade with that sinking feeling in my stomach, a terrible thought taking shape. “Look. If they just wanted blood, why leave us a great big machete instead of a knife, or even letting us use our own claws? I think they want more than blood from us. I think one of us has to sacrifice blood and flesh.”
“We should try some blood first, just to be sure,” Zeerin said.
“And if the blood does nothing on its own, I’m only weakening myself further for no reason. I’m pretty sure placing a body part on this thing and standing on the other two stones is what the Slayers have in mind. And if it needs weight, it’s probably going to take a limb to open the door.”
“Then it has to be you, and I would suggest an arm is better than a leg.”
“Why me? Why do I have to keep sacrificing to this cursed life?” I snarled. “Lopping off a limb is going to leave me just as weak as it would you. If you feed on me, the blood loss won’t leave you completely powerless and you’ll be able to heal again. And no matter which of us goes through with it, fighting will still be a struggle with only one arm. So why does that have to be me?”
“There is a chance you won’t lose the arm. If we can recover it quick enough, the transformation might be able to save the limb. There is a chance the flesh will fuse back together if you hold it in place.”
“A chance, that’s it? You can’t be sure it will work?”
“If I lose a limb, fresh blood will only allow my body to heal over the stump. A chance at keeping the arm is more than I have. So it has to be you, and we will just have to hope it works.”
I was far from happy with that arrangement, but deep down I knew he was right. It wouldn’t be fair to ask him to give up an arm when he had no hope of reattaching his limbs. Not that it felt particularly fair for me to risk mine, but at least I had a chance of recovering.
I briefly considered testing his theory with some smaller body part like the tip of a finger, then if it didn’t work I could demand we find some fairer way to decide who would give up their arm. But it would only waste more of my energy, and if I used up my body’s reserves in this room, I could well be stuck in human form for the rest of the time we were trapped underground.
“Fine, let’s get this over with,” I growled.
“I can do it for you, if you like?” Zee
rin offered.
“No, I’ll do it myself,” I said, kneeling over the stone. It was just raised enough from the ground for me to position my left arm on it, straightened and as flat as I could manage.
“Best cut it above the elbow, closer to the shoulder. Make sure it’s heavy enough to do the job.”
I growled again but didn’t answer, repositioning my arm to do as he suggested. The stone was big enough that it would fit the entire length of my limb across it, and I’d be able to position the severed appendage so that the blood would drain into the channel as intended.
There were several cameras in this room, presumably so the Slayers could watch everything from various angles. I fixed my eyes on the camera set in the wall just above me and raised the machete, snarling “You better pray I never make it out of here alive, you sick bastards, ’cause if I do, I swear I will do far worse to you.”
I allowed the rage to rise up, hiding behind it so there’d be no nerves or fear for the Slayers to see. The blade was steady in my hand as I held it there and made my dark promise, my voice full of nothing but anger. Time seemed to freeze for the briefest of moments while I knelt in that position, glaring at the humans I knew to be watching. But even though I was not bound to the laws of time in the same way that mortals are, it wouldn’t wait for me. Time marched on, and the moment passed.
I gritted my teeth against the pain I was about to bring on myself, growling my rage and displeasure a final time. Then I brought the machete down in one strong, swift movement.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sacrifice
Metal cut through flesh with one mighty blow. I didn’t really feel any pain as it passed clean through my upper arm and, for a minute or so, the shock of seeing my limb come away from my body kept the agony at bay. Then there was the blood, spurting from all those severed vessels. I’d turned plenty of my victims into crimson fountains, but there was something unreal about the sight of it jetting from my own limb.
The numbness couldn’t last. There was no hiding from the excruciating sensation in the gruesome stump, and I couldn’t help but cry out. Part of me hated myself for that – showing weakness when my enemies were watching. But the pain was unbelievable.
Nerves sparked as they reacted to the oxygen, a persistent ache to rival that of the transformation. And with the rage already free and roaring through my entire being, my mind suddenly reverted to its most primal state. I forgot why I was in that place and why I’d injured myself, and I completely forgot about the vampire in the room with me. My world narrowed to the throbbing of the stump pumping blood out everywhere. It was as if the amputation now defined me, and I was no more than the agony searing across the nerves in the severed flesh and bone.
Unaware of anything outside this new, torturous reality, I was oblivious to Zeerin moving towards me. His hand came down on my shoulder and he said something in a soothing voice, but the words were meaningless. Instinct was drowning out reason, and like any wounded animal caught in the shock and pain of a grievous injury, my crazed brain only had one response to his touch. I attacked, twisting round to bite him with teeth that were fast becoming fangs.
Zeerin must have been expecting it. He sidestepped, too quick for me to latch onto, and my jaws closed on air. That only infuriated me more.
My body was pushing for the change, and I was all too happy to let it take hold and fuel me with new strength. Luckily Zeerin was thinking clearly enough for the both of us.
“No!” he said, lunging forward and tackling me to the ground.
I twisted in his grip, snapping at him with fangs that wouldn’t sit comfortably in a mouth that was still mostly human, and glaring with amber eyes burning with fury. His right hand was soon slick with blood, but he fought to keep me on the ground as I writhed beneath him.
My right arm was held fast so I tried lashing out with the left. The severed flesh remained still and lifeless on the stone slab, unresponsive to my brain’s commands. I was too crazed for the truth of the situation to sink in, which was perhaps a blessing in that moment.
“Nick!” Zeerin shouted, using my human name to try and get through to me. Most seemed to favour calling me wolf, even though my name must’ve become well-known after everything that had happened in my short time as a werewolf – especially after I’d been blamed for Leon’s murders. But even that couldn’t snap me out of the frenzy I’d fallen into. It was all just meaningless noise, lost in the agony of my damaged flesh.
Hands grabbed my shifting skull and held it steady. I snarled and tried to free myself but his grip was too strong. Then my eyes fixed on his and I was falling into a whole new reality.
“Stop this,” he commanded.
I relaxed, panting heavily. A pleasant haze wrapped itself around my mind and the pain drifted to somewhere far away. The vampire had become my entire world. He was a god, and all I wanted was to please him. Nothing else mattered.
“I’m going to release you now, and when I do you will be calm. Understood?”
“Yes,” I managed. It was more awkward than usual with my teeth almost fully lupine in my otherwise human maw.
The pleasant haze lifted and my stump throbbed worse than ever, agony crashing back over me in an angry wave. I roared as Zeerin got to his feet, but I grabbed the hand he offered me and let him pull me up.
“Come on,” he said, leading me over to one of the other slabs. “You need to let go of the transformation before your body pushes it any further, or the stump will heal over and your arm won’t be able to fuse back onto it. Put pressure on the wound if you can, so you don’t lose too much blood while we try to get this door open.”
With a jolt, I realised how close I’d come to losing my arm for sure. I was horribly aware of it missing now, and the thought of spending eternity like this unnerved me more than anything else I’d faced over the last year. Death felt preferable to living as an amputee.
I took my place on the pressure pad in the far corner, nearest the way out. My eyes were instantly drawn to the lump of meat lying on the stone across the room, the flesh dark and gruesome in the dim light. The ring of bone at its centre was a ghoulish white, streaked with blood. But the cut had been clean so there were no ragged, stringy bits of muscle hanging down like with the limbs I’d torn from so many of my victims. At least they hadn’t been forced to cope with the loss of their limbs for long before I’d ended their suffering.
Zeerin must have positioned the severed limb while I was busy raging, ensuring the blood flowed down the hole as the Slayers had designed it to. I looked on in a detached sort of way, as if this had become just another one of the horror movies I’d enjoyed in my human life, or another nightmare I’d eventually wake up from. And yet I couldn’t tear my gaze from it.
Pressing on the stump was the last thing I wanted to do while the pain was so intense, but I was on the verge of passing out again. So I forced myself to do it in an attempt to stem some of the blood flow. My hand was soon slippery with the crimson fluid, just like Zeerin’s had been, and as I fought to stay conscious I realised I was lucky he hadn’t lost control as well. I glanced across at him with unease, wondering if his hunger was about to take over. He didn’t seem to notice, standing strong on the slab across the room and waiting patiently for the door to open. I looked away again, confident he was resisting his urges for the time being.
Blood continued to pump between my fingers. The pressure I was trying to apply seemed to be too little too late. That feeling of lightheadedness returned, and my heartbeat was dominating my sense of hearing once more. I was all too aware of my body’s struggle to keep my life force pumping round my system when so much of it was flowing out, onto the ground.
My legs buckled as I grew weaker and I fell to my knees, my vision blurred. Finally my eyes were forced away from my severed arm, instead falling on the ugly remainder of my limb.
The skin seemed almost as pale as Zeerin’s, fresh blood glistening a much darker shade of red in the gloom. And still it continued its
excruciating, steady throb. It was beginning to feel like a torment I’d never be free from.
I was still only vaguely aware of reality but I just about recognised the sound of the door panel grinding upwards over the rush of blood in my veins. Zeerin’s voice was barely audible as he called out to me to ‘hold on’, or words to that effect. I peered at him while my body continued to push for the change.
My strength was waning with each new beat of my heart, and I was losing the will to fight. The world darkened. I began sinking into that darkness, away from the pain and the horror of the grisly stump where my arm should have been. Either my body would give in to the transformation and I would have to adapt to the new challenge of life as an amputee, or my life would fade before the change could heal the damage. It was in fate’s hands now.
New pain brought me back to the waking world. It was to find my body still mostly human, though my wolf form was slowly fighting to break through, fur sprouting once more. Another passage gaped beyond the now open doorway, and it seemed Zeerin had rushed over the moment the panel had locked into place.
He must have grabbed my arm for me. The hand hung limp and lifeless as he pressed the other end against the stump.
“Come on, Nick, just stay with me a little longer. You need to change now if your body’s going to have any chance at healing.”
“Why couldn’t you just let me go,” I growled, my voice weak and little more than a whisper.
“I owe you for the blood you gave to heal my wounds. You spared me from falling into a death I may never have awoken from, and I will never forget it. Besides, you were right about the need to work together, if we are to escape this place. Your body wants to shift; you can stop fighting it now.”
