by N M Thorn
“Yeah…” mumbled Theron warily. “So? I’m not the one who is going to be hurting you. Alucard will do it for me.”
“Well, your master didn’t say anything about captive fighters hurting overly-pumped ogres like yourself.”
Before Theron could react, Gunz covered the distance between them, seized his arm, twisted it behind the guard’s back and pulled it up at a painful angle. The man grunted, dropped to his knees and tapped on the floor. Gunz grabbed the towel out of his hand and quickly dried himself, wrapping the towel around his hips. Then he looked down at the guard who was still sitting on the floor, massaging his shoulder, and offered him his hand. Theron gaped at his hand for a moment but took it and got up.
“Fresh clothes for you,” he said, offering him a plastic bag, notes of discomfort in his voice.
“Thanks.” Gunz took the clothes out of the bag and got dressed.
“Hey, Gunz,” said Theron as he directed him toward the captive quarters, “I’ve heard of you before… You fought in the unattached circles.”
“Yeah, so what?” replied Gunz.
“Rumor has it that you’ve never lost a fight,” continued Theron. “Is it true?”
Gunz nodded, not willing to go deeper into this conversation and Theron didn’t push for it. They stopped in front of a heavy metal door and Theron unlocked it with a magnetic card, entering a six-digit pin in the key pad.
“Get in,” he said, opening the door for Gunz.
Gunz walked into a large room with a tall ceiling. In the center of the room there was a station with security equipment, manned by a few guards. All along the perimeter of the room, he counted at least twenty doors. Each door was locked and had a key pad on the wall next to it. With relief he noticed that there were no one-way mirrors on the walls. Also, he didn’t notice video feed from inside the cells on the guards’ computer monitors.
“Hey, Theron,” Gunz whispered, arching his brow at the guards’ station, “do they monitor what’s going on inside the cells?”
“Why?” asked Theron with an indifferent shrug. “There are no security cameras in the cells. The doors can’t be unlocked from inside. But even if some crazy captive managed to unlock the door and bypass the guards, he won’t be able to leave this area because of the gray jewelry radius settings.”
Theron pulled him all the way to the far end of the room and stopped in front of the last door.
“Ready?” he asked, reaching for his magnetic card.
What if this vamp is not Yaroslav? A thought flashed through Gunz’s mind and chills ran down his spine. “Let’s get it over with,” he said to Theron, bracing himself for the worst.
The guard unlocked the door and pushed Gunz inside. “Good luck,” he said and locked the door behind him.
Gunz slowly turned around. He saw a man lying on the bed, his long blond hair falling over his face and chest obscuring his features. He appeared to be sleeping, but Gunz wasn’t sure he was. The man was a vampire and he could remain completely motionless for hours.
“Alucard?” called Gunz, taking a tentative step forward.
The man jolted up and crouched on the bed ready to pounce. He threw his long hair off his face and Gunz recognized Yaroslav. However, he wasn’t sure Yaroslav recognized him. All he could see in front of him was a feral, hungry vampire.
Yaroslav growled, a low rumbling sound, and his eyes shone with a scarlet light. Before Gunz could say anything, he felt Yaroslav’s fingers wrapped around his neck, pinning him to the door. He saw the scarlet eyes next to his face and there wasn’t a sign of recognition in his eyes or anything at all, except all-consuming hunger.
“Yaroslav…” croaked Gunz, struggling to breathe.
Yaroslav hissed, displaying his long fangs and forced Gunz’s head to the side, ready to sink his blade-like fangs into his neck. Gunz pushed against his chest, but it was like pushing against a tank.
“Yaroslav, please…” he whispered, red spots dancing around him. “Slavik… Akira sent me… please…”
Yaroslav’s hands shook and he let go. Gunz slid down to the floor coughing, clutching his neck. Yaroslav squatted in front of him and carefully lifted his face. The carnivorous scarlet glow was gone from his eyes and for a moment he looked terrified.
“Gunz?” he whispered. “I almost… What are you doing here? How did you find me?” Then his eyes fell on Gunz’s neck and his face became a stone mask. He grabbed Gunz’s arms and checked his wrists. “You’re a captive? How?”
“It was the only way I could get close to you,” replied Gunz.
“You gave up your freedom just to find me?”
“Yeah, but forget about all that,” said Gunz. “Now we have a bigger problem. I have to fight you in the cage. I don’t know when the event is going to happen, but sooner or later it will.”
“Oh, no…” Yaroslav dropped to one knee, his fingers digging into the mane of his golden hair. “No, no, no… That can’t happen. If I’m forced to kill you in the cage, all the humans that are present at the event will die.”
“Then don’t kill me.” Gunz chuckled.
“You don’t understand,” said Yaroslav rising and offered him his hand, “I’m not in control of my actions.”
“You mean the controller?” asked Gunz, taking his hand and got up.
“No, the controller is not the problem. It’s a lot worse for me,” said Yaroslav. He went back to his bed and sat down heavily.
Gunz sat on the second bed, facing him. “Explain, please.”
“The gray stone jewelry can control anyone with magic or elemental power,” started Yaroslav, “but in your case, it can only control your magic and your physical strength. It doesn’t control your mind. But I’m not like you.” He lowered his head, hiding his face in his hands.
“Slavik, I don’t understand,” said Gunz. “What’s the difference? I saw vampires and demons controlled by the gray stone jewelry. The effect of the gray stones is a little different on your kind, but it still controls only your body, not your mind.”
“Gunz, the collar on my neck is set to none. It’s nothing but a décor when it comes to controlling me,” said Yaroslav. “George Novak doesn’t need the gray stones to control vampires. He can control anything that has no heartbeat and he doesn’t need any magical artifacts for that.”
“Slavik, is he—”
“George Novak is a necromancer,” said Yaroslav, cringing. “He can control my body and my mind. I’m nothing but a mindless weapon in his hands. I’ve met necromancers before, but never one as powerful as him. If he wishes me to kill you in the cage, I will do it and I won’t even know that I’m doing it. When I’m in the cage, I’m completely under his influence. You have no idea…” His voice trailed off and he lowered his face into his hands again.
“Yaroslav… Slavik, don’t give up, we’ll figure it out,” said Gunz quietly. “I went through hell just to find you and I’m not leaving without you.”
Yaroslav raised his face and there was so much pain reflected in his eyes that Gunz shuddered inwardly. “You’re not leaving at all, my friend,” he said, shaking his head. “There is no way to take this collar off. Only your owner can do it. And with this collar on your neck, you have no way out. In case you still didn’t figure it out – captive fighters are nothing but supernatural slaves. No way out. No way to send a message to the outside world. No one to ask for help.”
“Slavik, now that I found you, I have a way to send a message to the outside world,” said Gunz. “All I need is a tiny bit of my fire back.”
“What do you mean?”
“My fire and my magic are blocked,” explained Gunz. “Novak is keeping my controller set to maximum.”
“I think, I can help with that,” said Yaroslav rising. “I can convince Novak to give you some access to your magic. Let me talk to him.”
“Wait, Slavik,” said Gunz. “Before you call him, I need to ask you something.”
Yaroslav stopped and turned to him, staring at h
im quizzically.
“When I just walked in, you looked a bit—um—hungry. What’s going on with you? Doesn’t Novak feed you?” asked Gunz. “Even right now your eyes are still glowing red a little.”
Yaroslav shuddered and bowed his head. “Gunz, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you. To be honest, I don’t think I would recognize anyone in this state. The thirst is driving me crazy.”
“This is something I don’t understand. Aren’t you his best fighter?” asked Gunz, anger slowly building up in him. “He should be taking care of you, not starving you to the point where you’re losing your mind.”
“What you just said is the point of starving me,” explained Yaroslav, stifling a sigh. “He doesn’t need my mind clear. When I’m in the cage and he controls me, he subdues my mind to the point that there is nothing left of me but basic instincts. In that cage, I’m a predator – hungry, thoughtless, merciless.”
“Slavik, does he get you any blood at all?” Feeling numb inside, Gunz wasn’t sure that he was ready to hear his answer.
“Yes, he does,” replied Yaroslav, averting his gaze. “After each event. And even then…” His voice disappeared into silence. “I’m not proud of what I’m doing, Gunz… but I’m forced. I have no choice.”
“What does he make you do, Yaroslav?” growled Gunz, his fingers grasping at the bed, tearing through the sheets.
For a moment Yaroslav closed his eyes, muscles working in his jaw. “Kill. He makes me kill and drain humans for the entertainment of the crowd,” he said quietly. “From what I’ve heard, these scumbags pay Novak an obscene amount of money to see that. I’m the vampire, but I swear to God, these people who pay to see me kill innocent humans and feed on them… they’re the ones who have no soul. This is why Novak keeps me hungry between the events.”
“Jesus Christ almighty,” whispered Gunz, nausea rising to his throat. “What else does he make you do?”
“You don’t want to know,” mumbled Yaroslav. “Please don’t make me tell you everything. I’m disgusted with myself without you looking at me like I’m some—”
“Slavik, you don’t have to tell me anything. And none of it is your fault,” said Gunz, shaking his head. “Just one more question. Did Theron tell you anything before he brought me in?”
“Yeah, he told me that I can feed on you as long as I don’t kill you,” replied Yaroslav. “Of course, I’m not going to do that.”
“Yes, you are,” objected Gunz calmly. “Can you drink my blood, knowing what I am?”
“Depends on how much fire is in you,” mumbled Yaroslav backing away from him, holding his hands up. “I’m not going to do it. Are you nuts?”
“Right now, I have zero fire and yes, you’re going to feed on me,” said Gunz firmly. “Novak has no idea that we know each other, and I want to keep it that way. I’m sure that as hungry as you are, you would feed on a stranger. Just don’t take a lot of my blood. I’m weak as it is.”
Yaroslav didn’t move, but his eyes lit up with a hungry scarlet light. Nevertheless, he silently shook his head no.
“Do I have to punch you like they do in some stupid movies to provoke you to bite me?” Gunz sighed and tapped on the bed next to him. “Do it, Slavik. We have to make Novak believe we don’t know each other.”
Hardly moving his feet, Yaroslav approached him and froze, staring down at him, a haunted expression in his eyes. Gunz tilted his head to the side, giving him access to his neck.
“No, not your neck.” Yaroslav kneeled before him and took his arm. “It’ll hurt but just for a moment.”
“Don’t worry.” Gunz chuckled. “I already forgot when nothing hurt the last time.”
Yaroslav pulled his arm to his mouth and his sharp fangs sunk into Gunz’s wrist. Gunz groaned as pain radiated through him but didn’t fight Yaroslav’s grip. Slowly the pain melted away, replaced by a feeling of warmth, bordering on physical pleasure. It took him over, fogging his mind, making him forget where he was and what he was doing. Weak and lightheaded, he closed his eyes, dropping his head to his chest.
Is that how a vampire’s bite feels? A thought flashed through his dazed mind. No wonder their victims don’t struggle… I don’t think I could fight that even if I wanted… The scariest thing was that he had no desire to fight it. In fact, his whole body was screaming for more, all his instincts suppressed, nonexistent.
“Slavik…” he whispered faintly, taking shallow breaths. “Please stop… I don’t think I can handle it much longer…”
Yaroslav let go immediately and applied pressure on Gunz’s wrist with his hand to stop the bleeding. Thin red streams slipped between his fingers. Gunz glanced at his own blood and his stomach clenched. He moaned and eased himself on the bed.
“Your blood,” said Yaroslav wiping his lips with the back of his hand, “it’s different. Stronger. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. At some point, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to fight you or fu— well…” Gunz chuckled.
Yaroslav laughed, throwing his long hair off his face. For a moment, he looked the way Gunz remembered him from a year ago.
“Yeah, the pleasure of a vampire’s bite,” he said, winking at Gunz. “This is why humans don’t fight when we bite them.” A dark cloud crossed his face and he sobered up. His expression closed and the haunted look settled back in his blue eyes. “And that’s the other service I’m forced to perform. From what I understand, some rich humans pay serious money for that kind of service. But after”—he closed his eyes while pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaled a rugged breath— “every time when Theron escorts me back to this room, I wish I could die, so I don’t have to—"
“Call Theron, Yaroslav,” hissed Gunz, fury searing through him. “Do whatever you need to do, but I need my fire back.”
Chapter 12
~ Zane Burns, a.k.a. Gunz ~
A full week passed before George Novak finally got around and summoned Yaroslav to his office. The only thing Gunz remembered from this whole week was endless, brutal training. He left the room early in the morning and came back late at night, hardly able to move, hurting and quite often bleeding.
True to his word, Novak kept his controller set at maximum which made his training even more challenging as the gray stones magic was significantly weakening him physically as well as slowing down his healing process.
Every night when he came back to his room sick with exhaustion, Yaroslav offered to heal him. And every time, Gunz politely refused his offers. He knew Slavik wasn’t trying to hurt him or put him under his vampiric control, but he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of drinking vampire blood.
They were in the middle of sparring when Theron walked in, interrupting them, and told Yaroslav their master wished to see him in his office after training. Yaroslav lowered his practice sword, waiting for Theron to leave.
“Gunz, listen,” he said, a vibe of unease lingering around him, “I’m going to ask Novak to give you some access to your magic, but we have to put on a show for him. Otherwise, he’ll refuse to do it.”
“What kind of show?” asked Gunz warily.
“I’m going to play a soulless bloodsucker who doesn’t give a damn about what happens to you and you’re going to play a beat up, half-dead wizard,” replied Slavik, sounding almost apologetic, “and we’re going to have to sell it.”
“Doesn’t sound too hard,” muttered Gunz.
“Not for me, but for you – a different story,” replied Yaroslav, raising his sword. “We still have some time to waste until the end of the day. Now, attack.”
Yaroslav stopped their training ten minutes ahead of time. He took their swords and put them away, then approached Gunz.
“I’m sorry, I have to do this to you,” he said, staring down at his clenched hands.
“Just go ahead and do it,” replied Gunz, lowering his arms. “I knew what you meant when you said we’re gonna have to sell it. So, make it look real.”
“I�
�m truly sorry about this,” murmured Yaroslav and punched him in the face.
Yaroslav hardly even pulled his hand back. For him, it was just a light jab, but Gunz felt like he was hit by a sledgehammer. He gasped, clasping his hands to his face as his nose broke with a gut-wrenching crunch. His breath caught and he collapsed, his eyes watering from pain. Yaroslav didn’t wait for him to recover. Going down to his knees, he punched him again, driving his fist into the side of his face. Gunz cried out and curved into a ball, covering his face with his arms. The dark bruises spread around his eyes and his left eye swelled to the point where he couldn’t open it.
Yaroslav seized Gunz’s arm, forcefully pulling it away from his face. Before Gunz recovered enough to object, the vampire sunk his fangs into his arm above the elbow. Gunz flinched and tried to pull away, but Yaroslav held him down. A moment later, the pain melted away into the bliss of the vampire’s bite. It was a strange sensation – his face was bleeding and swollen, yet he felt nothing. The only thing he felt was warmth flowing through his body as an overwhelming weakness took him over. He closed his eyes and moaned.
“Gunz, are you okay?” asked Yaroslav, holding down his arm to stop the bleeding. He looked anxious, but his voice sounded strangely distant and thick.
Gunz glanced at him with one eye, still slightly dazed and nodded. “As soon as we’re out of this mess, I will take my revenge. You better be ready, because my wrath will be terrible.” He tried to smile but winced as the pain in his broken nose and split lips spiked through him.
“Theron is here. Now play your part,” whispered Yaroslav. He grabbed Gunz and carelessly threw him over his shoulder.
“Ahh,” moaned Gunz. Playing half-dead seemed to come easy in his current state.
Theron glanced at him and his jaw dropped. “Hey, Alucard, what did you do to him? He looks like he’s one step away from death.”
“None of your business,” murmured Yaroslav, heading toward the door. “Take me to our master.”
