Heartbreaker

by Quelli di ZEd

CHAPTER 11

  Wilton Grange's eyes went wide as if he had just seen a ghost – which by the way shouldn't have been too unusual in his line of work – when he saw the figure advancing trough the corridor in his direction, and recognized the dwarf who had entered his trap along with Vivienne.

  He was holding his left hand, which seemed burned down to a stump, against his chest, his forehead was bleeding, his clothes were torn to shreds, but he was alive, and that shouldn't have been possible. No one should have been able to pass by the heartless at the door. No one except the vampire, obviously, because he wanted her to, believing she had succeeded thanks to her abilities and not because the guard had been properly instructed.

  He expanded his mind to look for his creature and immediately perceived it, or better perceived the parts it had been made of, now scattered around the room and the corridor, already trying as much as possible to gather in the same place in order to join and start rebuilding the body they had belonged to till a few seconds before. He relaxed, turning again his attention to the place he was standing in. A temporary defeat was tolerable, after all. Also because its author wasn't going to live long anyway.

  Shim looked at the scene around him. Vivienne was at a few meters, curled on the floor, with her knees pressed against her chest and her face deep between her arms. He didn't know exactly the purpose of the symbols traced around her, but he knew just enough to understand that she was unable to pass them.

  At the end of the room there was the man who had to be responsible for all that.

  «You are...» he started to mumble, struggling to say the words so that they could be heard and understood «... under arrest...»

  Vivienne slightly lifted her head at the sound of his voice, just enough to let an eye out and look at the detective, who had been able to get there in spite of her thoughts.

  Grange too looked at him. Pathetic. He raised one hand and said some words in a language unknown to the most. Immediately the body of the dwarf was shaken by convulsions. A whitish foam raised to his lips, while his chest started burning as if someone had just poked it with a scalding ember. His legs started to tremble.

  He forced himself to go on, even though each step required a huge effort, even though he was losing control over his own body. He tried to say something, but only managed to let go an agonizing rattle.

  Grange watched him stumble forward. It was remarkable for him to try fighting the effects of his spell. As remarkable as useless. It was a pity that he was too worn to be used as raw matter to create another of his masterworks. Nonetheless, he would have been a worthy sacrifice to further consolidate his already enormous power. As soon as he would let go and lose consciousness for the pain he was causing him, he would put him on the altar consecrated to Death and finish him the right way. It was just a matter of seconds.

  Indeed Shim fell soon enough.

  He fell on his knees, his body shaken by uncontrollable spasms, only his gaze was lit and alive, his eyes fixed on a single spot on the floor. A spot that seemed to be very far. A spot that was closer and closer.

  He made another shuffled step, crawling on his knees with the help of the only functioning arm he still had. Then, with his last strength, he pushed himself as far as he could, and lied flat on the floor, his right hand stretched towards Vivienne. His palm was the last thing to touch the ground, just on the edge of the circle that was trapping the vampire.

  The look of triumph on Grange's face was quickly replaced by a mixed expression of surprise and terror as he found himself looking into the depths of Vivienne's eyes.

  He hadn't seen the vampire moving, he hadn't even seen her standing up, still she was there, in front of him, with her right hand pushed into his chest up to the wrist.

  He realized he should be feeling pain, but all he felt was an unreal sensation. Then nothing more, everything disappeared as his body slid to the floor and his gaze became empty. His hearth, clenched in the hand Vivienne had extracted a second before, beat weakly for a few seconds more, then joined him in the silence of oblivion. She threw it away, disgusted.

  «We could call this poetic justice», she said as she looked for something to clean her hand onto.

  Suddenly they stopped moving, with no apparent reason.

  Wherever they were, they stood still for a second, as if frozen in the last pose they had taken. Then they simply dropped to the ground, again and forever lifeless.

  At the police headquarters, Rupert was in the middle of the common room, surrounded by policemen who were seeking shelter behind any possible hindrance to his relentless advance, trying with scarce success to keep him at bay with their best weapons.

  In front of him, standing behind an upturned desk, was Celendlinis Delmenar, completely deaf to the calls of the officers shouting him to stand down and not attract attention.

  The elf waved his hands in the air, uttering some arcane words, then stretched them toward the undead, with his fingers spread wide. Bolts of light sprang forth from his fingertips, directed toward Rupert. An instant before they hit him, he stopped living – given his could be called life at all – and fell to the floor as the magic raged uselessly on what was now but a common corpse. But from Celen's point of view, things were quite different.

  When Shim opened his eyes again, he found himself looking Vivienne's face as if in a dream, much closer than it should have logically been. He barely felt the movement that showed how she was carrying him in her arms, with no apparent strain although his weight was anything but negligible. He knew he was hurt quite seriously, knew he should have been in pain, but there was something in her eyes which seemed to anesthetize him, something that seemed to tell him that there was nothing to worry about, that everything was going to be fine.

  Vivienne smiled an enigmatic smile.

  Wilton Grange was dead, and along with him the secret for the creation of the heartless was gone.

  THE AUTHOR

  Carmelo Massimo Tidona, employee, writer and translator in his spare time, has been reading and writing since as long as he can remember. Some of his short stories have been published in various anthologies.

  For 0111edizioni Carmelo Massimo Tidona published:

  “Trittico Oscuro”, collection of urban fantasy tales (2009, Italian).

  “Riflessi d’Ombra”, urban fantasy novel (2009, Italian)

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