by Stead, Nick
So I entered the chamber, intent on conquering whatever challenge this one held as quickly as possible and moving on. But when I saw what lay in wait this time, even with the darkness of my core roaring so strongly for blood, it brought me to a halt.
Suddenly it was clear why David had presented me with my red rag. I’d been entered into another death match and he didn’t want me to hold back against this latest opponent, maybe even hoping I’d be so full of rage that I’d completely lose control and kill without meaning to. With my improved level of self-control, David would probably be disappointed, though whether I willingly killed this adversary remained to be seen.
My opponent had his back to me when I first entered but there was no mistaking him. I didn’t need to focus on trying to detect his scent through the persistent stench of the putrid dungeon air, recognising him from behind by sight alone. How he came to be in the chamber or what reason he had for fighting me was another matter, but I’d already guessed that fight we must. So I took up a defensive stance and roared my challenge, my rage all too happy to engage him in combat, even if some part of me didn’t want to hurt someone I’d connected and bonded with.
In answer to my challenge, my opponent turned to face me, his own features twisted into an angry snarl. His eyes were wild and crazed, his fangs bared and his sword drawn. There was no recognition in his features when he looked at me, but even in his current state of madness, I knew him. Seeing his face confirmed what I had already guessed from behind: it was Zee.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ocean’s Wrath
I locked eyes with those two tempest tossed discs, and saw only rage reflected back at me. There would be no talking, no reasoning with him this time. David wanted us to fight and he would get his wish.
Anger continued to sear through my veins. I felt much more confident than when I’d been forced to fight the bear, even though I knew I was outclassed once again. It helped that I’d been permitted to feed and recover my energy. I wouldn’t be going down so easily now.
Some part of me recognised it wouldn’t do to get too cocky. I’d barely escaped with my life when I’d faced Leon, and he’d had the added boost to his speed and strength granted by madness. Looking into Zee’s frenzied eyes, it seemed he also had a form of madness on his side. Maybe if he hadn’t been able to feed since the zombie attack it would even the odds. But he bore no evidence of the damage I’d seen them do to him when we’d been separated, his flesh apparently whole beneath what had to be fresh clothes, though his outfit looked the same. It was as if the attack had never been. That could only mean the Slayers had fed him some fresh blood.
I stood my ground again, expecting Zee to make the first move. At least trying to wear him down was more of an option than it had been in the last fight. Evading his attacks would be a challenge though, especially when he had the added advantage of range from his blade, not to mention centuries of experience. My rage might be the equal of the wildness currently ruling him, but I knew it simply wouldn’t be enough when I was outmatched in every other way. And yet, there was still no room for fear or doubt in my heart.
Minutes ticked by but still Zee hadn’t charged. Why wouldn’t he attack when he was almost guaranteed victory? Whatever madness had possessed him, it clearly didn’t recognise me as friend or at least former ally, so there was nothing to hold him back. And if he was as crazed as he looked, surely his bloodlust wanted a fight as badly as my own. Or if not that same dark need for violence, then if nothing else his hunger should be driving him to the kill.
I tore my eyes from his frenzied gaze, taking in the rest of the chamber for some clue as to what was going on. That was when I noticed the sword sticking point down on the left side of the room, which could only mean David wanted me to fight like a man this time. I eyed it with distaste, still loath to play into my tormentor’s twisted fantasies. What choice did I have though? Taking up the blade was probably in my interests if I wanted to even the odds a little. It would mean I wouldn’t have to get in as close to strike and it would give me something other than my own flesh to block his attacks. I’d have been a fool to turn that down.
Growling, I focused the transformation on my almost fully lupine paws and willed them to become closer to human hands, though I kept my fur and my claws. If I found myself disarmed I wanted my natural, bestial weapons to fall back on, and keeping them furry used slightly less energy. Plus there was some personal preference there. I’d been so obsessed with werewolves as a human that I’d been fussy with the way they looked in artwork and movies. Hairless werewolves had never been my thing. And since I had the power for real, why not use it to be the kind of monster I’d always wanted to be?
I turned my attention back to Zee, half expecting him to spring into action and take advantage of the costly seconds it would take to regain fully opposable thumbs. Not that he needed the advantage. But in the short time we’d been down in the dungeon, I felt I’d already gotten to know him fairly well, or at least well enough to know that he wasn’t one for making the kind of stupid, overconfident mistakes that could get a warrior killed. Yet still he stood as if locked in place, and I began to wonder if something was controlling him somehow. That would explain why he was still alive – if David had intended us to eventually fight to the death, Zee had probably never been in any real danger and the necromancer must have been ordered to call off the zombies before they tore the vampire apart. Once I was in the hidden tunnel where David wanted me to be, it would have simply been a case of seizing control of Zee and bringing him to this arena, ready to fight me when I showed up. And if he was being controlled and still hadn’t attacked, that probably meant his puppeteer was waiting for an exact moment to unleash him.
I looked back over at the sword with growing suspicion. Video games had once been my life and I knew full well how boss fights worked, so I could guess how this would go down. If Zee hadn’t simply been commanded to attack on sight, that likely meant there would be something to trigger this battle, just like in the video game world. And I was pretty sure the trigger would be the sword. The only thing I couldn’t be sure of was whether I’d be given the chance to draw it or whether Zee would be set loose the moment my hand touched the hilt. Or worse, just getting near the blade could be all it would take to activate the fight. I wouldn’t know until I tried.
My other option would be to ignore the weapon and go straight for my opponent, but since David and his minions were watching, I had a feeling they’d just let Zee loose anyway. They were hardly likely to let me sneak past the ‘boss’ they’d prepared and walk from the chamber unscathed, and they weren’t going to hand me an easy win by keeping him motionless either. There was no escaping the fight that I could see, short of turning back and searching for an alternative route to Lady Sarah – something I didn’t have time for. So I felt I might as well take the sword as they’d intended. It was better to have it and the slight tip of the odds back in my favour, and at least I would have some sense of when the first attack would come, rather than approaching some less obvious trigger and risking being taken unawares.
I took a deep breath and inwardly conjured another image of David’s face on my mind’s canvas. I painted him with such sickening, swaggering glee on his features as he both delighted in my suffering and enjoyed playing master of puppets that my rage grew greater still. Then there was nothing for it. I was as prepared for the fight as I possibly could be, so I leapt forward, sprinting for the weapon with all my supernatural speed.
My ears were pricked while I ran, listening for any warning sounds that Zee was coming in for the kill. But my eyes were fixed solely on the sword, as if reality had narrowed down to that length of metal. Everything else ceased to be, for as long as my life rested on its edge.
My clawed fingers were inches away from grasping the hilt when I caught a flash of movement at the corner of my eye. Was it Zee? I kept my sights fixed on the blade. There were no sounds to give him away, no running footsteps to warn me of his comi
ng. But I felt certain he was coming for me. He was surely only seconds away from bringing his own blade down on my vulnerable flesh.
I skidded to a halt and my hand closed around the weapon. It slid free from its stony sheath with ease. I turned to face my opponent, raising it above my head in one fluid movement.
Zee brought his own blade down in a fierce strike that would have cleaved my skull in two, and the chamber rang with the clash of steel. There was a brief moment where the burning amber flames in my eye sockets met the stormy ocean orbs in his, our features mirror images of each other as fury twisted our faces into feral snarls. Vampires might consider themselves to be classier and more civilised than other undead, and Zee might have looked more human than I currently did in my wolf-man form, but in that instant there was nothing remotely human about that bearded face. Despite the human weapons each of us wielded, in many ways he was every bit as bestial as I was in that moment.
Zee’s blade was still dulled with the blood from previous enemies, and it was as if it thirsted for more just as keenly as its owner did. That gore stained metal whipped round from its position and away from my sword, slicing through the air in a path intended to connect with my right side. I just managed to bring my own sword round to parry the second blow, then our swords broke apart and the fight truly began as he launched into a vicious onslaught.
Despite all the advantages he possessed, Zee still fought as if we were equals, attacking so that his weapon would come within range of my guard and giving me plenty of chance to deflect, but no opportunity to counter attack. I got the impression he was testing me and my reactions, before going for any riskier strikes that might present me with an opening. It was all I could do to defend myself, my own amateur skills paling in comparison to Zee’s master swordsmanship. The one small thing I had going for me was that I’d seen him fight while we’d been trapped in chambers facing other foes. There hadn’t been enough time to properly study his fighting style, but I had a bit more insight than if we were strangers. It might just be enough to predict some of his moves and help me evade for longer, while I tried to create an opening to strike back.
Deadly steel carved towards me in another arc meant for my head. I just managed to dodge and retaliated with a swing for Zee’s sword arm. His vampiric speed meant he deflected my attack with ease. Rage drove me on the offensive while I had the chance, hacking and slashing at my target with everything I had. Not a single blow landed and before I knew it I was back to defending, struggling to keep the sword from biting into my flesh.
Zee went into another series of attacks, his blade a viper darting in and out as it struck again and again. Then came the moment my inferior speed let me down, the flesh splitting along my left arm where his blade opened up a nasty gash. Fortunately it wasn’t my sword arm, but I roared with anger and pain as nerves exploded in protest once more, blood welling up and splattering the floor as we continued our dance of steel. Something didn’t seem to be quite right though.
Perhaps it was just being denied his fill of fresh blood that was making Zee weaker and slower than he should have been. The Slayers had allowed him to heal but it was doubtful they’d let him fully satisfy his hunger. And yet, I felt sure he should have done far more than give me a mere flesh wound by then. Even without his full strength to bring to bear against me, his experience should have served him better than he’d fared so far. I should probably have lost my arm if he’d really meant to attack the limb, or at least had it partially severed when I was too slow to dodge. Could it be that whatever power they were using to control him kept him from going all-out offensive on me? Maybe this chamber had never been about my own death – what if David wanted to force me to take the life of someone else I’d formed a bond with, and Zee was being forced to present just enough of a threat to push me into going for the kill? Or David could still be hoping my bloodlust would claim another life, whether I wanted it or not. Either way, as the fight wore on and I continued to escape sustaining any mortal wounds, I felt more and more certain I was right about the restraints they’d placed over Zee.
David might even have picked Zee specifically for me to befriend. He’d known me once in our human lives and he could probably guess what sort of personality the vampire for this role would need. Or maybe their control over Zee had allowed them to manipulate him into befriending me. By that point, anything was beginning to seem possible.
Such a realisation only stoked the fires of my rage and I grew bolder and more offensive. But I had no intention of killing the vampire I’d come to call friend, whether our friendship had come about through careful manipulation or not. Knowing that was what my true enemy wanted only made me more determined to end the fight without taking Zee’s life.
I went for him with all the speed I could muster. Sparks flew each time our weapons met, but still I couldn’t get past his guard. His blade snuck past mine a second time, opening a cut on my cheek and spattering the ground with more drops of hot blood. My sword took most of the blow, turning it from a deadly strike into another minor flesh wound. But I knew I could only take so many cuts before I began to weaken from blood loss again.
I had the regenerative power of the transformation to fall back on, of course. And if I was right in my assumption that this fight was about Zee’s death rather than my own, then I didn’t have to worry too much about being worn down and executed once exhaustion took all the fight out of me. But I still wanted to avoid risking it if possible and I wasn’t keen on using energy to heal so soon after I’d just fed. There was no telling when I’d be granted the chance to feed again so I wanted to make the energy the bear had given me last for as long as possible. Which meant I really needed to find a way to wound the vampire and bleed the strength from him. How to do it though?
The answer lay in Zee’s inability to kill me, I decided. I could use it to my advantage. Playing it safe and fencing with him clearly wasn’t working. It was time to break the rules the Slayers appeared to be making him stick to.
So I swung at his torso, knowing he’d catch it on his cutlass yet again. But instead of following through with another strike meant to clash with his sword, I slashed much lower, at the thigh on his leading leg. And finally I succeeded in a splash of cold blood across the floor.
I paid for that small victory with a nasty gash across my chest. More of my life force spewed out, a hot bloody wave joining my opponent’s chilled crimson tears.
I brought my sword back up just in time to parry a cut to my neck and exchanged a few more blows with him, my wound stinging with greater urgency from the movement I was putting it through. I could probably have healed whilst fighting since the damage wasn’t deep enough to require shifting fully to either wolf or human, but I was still reluctant to use the energy unless I really had to. The fight was already proving to be a drain on my reserves. But the damage I’d dealt Zee was only minor. I would have to starve his body of a significant amount of its blood if I was going to disable him, and the flesh wound to his leg was leaking far too slowly. It would take longer than I had for him to bleed out.
He lunged for me again and I dropped my sword to slash at his other leg. I was rewarded with another rivulet of cold blood at the same time I felt his blade slice into my left bicep. Still it wasn’t enough to weaken and subdue him. And even if I could take enough strength to allow me to wrestle him to the floor, I would have to figure out how to break the Slayers’ control. I had no idea how I was going to do that, or if it was even possible. Would my victory be in vain?
One thing was clear: my current tactic wasn’t going to work. I’d taken more damage than I’d dealt, and the odds were still in Zee’s favour.
I realised then what needed to be done. It would require a greater sacrifice than the blood and pain I’d already given just to open up those two minor flesh wounds, but it was the only way to end the fight, at least as far as I could see. It meant I would have to use some energy to heal myself after all, though it was beginning to seem unavoidable at that
point. My torn flesh continued to leak a steady stream of blood and I could feel my strength slipping.
So I tossed my sword aside, the blade clattering against the stone with an awful finality, as if I’d just signed my own death warrant. I kept my gaze on the vampire’s wild eyes, waiting for him to take advantage of the fact I no longer had a length of metal to protect me. There was every chance he could go for a killing blow if I was at all wrong about the control the Slayers had over him, and it took all my willpower to keep still and wait for the right moment.
Zee didn’t keep me waiting long. He stabbed forward, sword piercing through the air until it hit the slight resistance my flesh had to offer it. My instincts screamed at me to move but I forced myself to keep still and allow the tip to slide between the wall of muscle holding my guts in place.
Through my abdomen it went and out the other side. I could feel it emerge from my lower back and couldn’t help but roar with discomfort, blood frothing up and spilling from between my fangs. It would have been a mortal wound to a human. The pain alone would have crippled most men, but I didn’t have the luxury of submitting to that internal agony.
With an effort of will, I held my position, waiting until Zee was within reach of my natural weapons. Only then did I retaliate with a slash of claws across his throat, leaving tracks of gore where my nails drove through. The pirate fell back, a look of shock on his face. It seemed to temporarily override the control he was under, and I dared to hope my plan might free him as well as winning me the fight.
