Raven's Ascent

by Ben Blackwell

  As I watched them approach each other like stalking wolves, I decided to not interfere for now. If they wanted another man-on-man staring contest, I would probably hurt their fragile little egos if I jumped in.

  They stood across each other, maybe two steps apart. The other vampire had learned, though, and kept his distance, so that Octavian’s height would not be as noticeable. But something else was different about him, too.

  He had been full of hatred before, but now… he seemed consumed by it. I even picked up a faint smell of something burning, like an unattended barbecue. With a hint of sulfur, like rotten eggs.

  My brows furrowed as I looked at the dagger. If that was the dagger they had taken from Lazar, there was no way of guessing its magical properties. Witches and shamans were creative. As I sniffled again, the smell had gotten a little stronger. Or was that just my imagination? Either way, I gripped my sword tightly, ready to jump in if anything happened. Then, in perfect unison, the vampires charged each other.

  There was a flurry of blows, and both tried to gain the upper hand through pure strength and constitution. But again, Octavian had the advantage. The creepy pale vampire was fast, his fighting primal, but he was punching against vampire armor. It was just leather, but quality, hardened leather. Whenever he took a swing with the dagger, Octavian dodged gracefully, which seemed to stoke the other vampire’s rage even higher.

  The tension in the air was building, and the circle of vampires around us watched the spectacle uneasily. It was clear that they weren’t entirely convinced their leader could win against a Crimson Fang in combat gear. But I felt more than that. It was as if the shadows were getting darker, the sounds lower, the air heavier.

  While their pale-faced leader was moments away from bursting into rage, Octavian was still controlled and efficient. He dodged most of the hits and retaliated when he saw an opening. He struck the vampire fewer times, but each hit was well-placed and painful. Only a few seconds had passed when the vampires parted again. Octavian seemed barely fazed, but the other had pearls of sweat on his forehead already.

  They slowly circled each other, scanning each other for weaknesses. Then pale-face charged again. He swung the dagger wildly at Octavian’s face, who calmly kept evading. His movements were fast and focused, his footwork solid. Then the other vampire changed it up and tried plunging the dagger in Octavian’s hip, below his armor.

  But the Crimson Fang saw it coming and twisted his hip away, graceful like a dancer despite his size. But the other vampire had neglected his defense for this strike, which Octavian immediately exploited.

  His fist shot forward, crashing into the pale vampire’s face for just a split-second before Octavian pulled back into a defensive stance.

  The vampire stumbled backward, wiping blood from his broken nose, but it kept gushing out. Now he truly looked like a vampire from a horror story. A pale, bald face with blood smeared all over and long fangs extending from his mouth.

  He jumped Octavian again, the knife raised and aimed at the neck. Octavian reacted fast, raising his arms with the spiked arm braces to block the attack. But in the last moments, the other vampire dropped the dagger, caught it with the other hand, and buried it deep in Octavian’s leg.

  My jaw clenched as the vampire immediately drew the dagger out again, and retreated a few steps. Octavian grumbled in anger, shifting his weight on his other leg. The wound looked deep, and despite his training, I knew this would slow him down in a fight.

  But the other vampire didn’t use that chance to strike. He stood there, relaxed and with his eyes closed as he licked the blood off the blade. “Delicious,” he hissed. “So much sweeter than that of a feeble human.”

  He opened his eyes again and stared at Octavian. “You have truly forgotten what it means to be a vampire,” he jeered.

  The tension that was building filled the air, together with the stench of burned flesh and sulfur. This time, I was sure it wasn’t just my imagination. The dagger started glowing, slightly at first, but then omitting a dark red glow that turned the vampire’s face into the demonic grimace.

  No, wait.

  It wasn’t just the light. Slowly, the vampire did change. While he was slowly transforming, he started circling Octavian again, as if he didn’t even notice the change. His bony hands turned to claws, his teeth became long and sharp, more like a predatory beast than a human. His eyes sank even more further into their sockets and turned completely black. His skin became ashen gray.

  The surrounding vampires started whispering in fear, clearly not expecting this transformation. Their leader seemed confused, too. He inspected his claws for a moment, but then a devious grin spread on his face. “So that’s what the stranger meant.” His voice was coarse like grinding rocks.

  When he jumped Octavian again, his fist crashed straight into Octavian’s chest, faster than before. Octavian was thrown back, sliding over the floor until he crashed into an old machine. He quickly got up again, his eyes cold and calculating, but his movements had lost their grace. I could see the slight twitch in his mouth as he put weight on his leg, and blood seeped from the wound.

  He raised his fists again. I guessed now he wished he had brought a proper weapon. But then again, he had. Me.

  I moved through the shadows, trying to get behind the vampire-turned-demon as it slowly walked toward Octavian. His eyes glanced to me for just a moment before he took a step towards the… thing.

  “Oh, so that is what you think it means to be a vampire?” he mocked, drawing the demon’s attention. “No thanks, I’ll pass.”

  The demon growled angrily, swinging his claws at Octavian. He had dropped the dagger now, but the transformation seemed complete. Whatever he was now, it wasn’t a vampire anymore. He looked like something between a demon and a gargoyle, but he was definitely just as unhinged as before.

  Octavian was smart enough to not trust his armor anymore, dodging the demon’s attacks when he continued slashing at him. But I could see he was struggling, his right leg was not able to carry his full weight.

  Then, with silent steps, I rushed at the demon. He turned his head and glanced back, but I plunged my sword deep into his back before he could react. The circle of vampires around us watched, flinching at my strike, but still motionless.

  Their leader roared in pain, then spun around. Caught off guard by the sudden movement, my sword was ripped from my hand. It remained buried deep inside the demon, but somehow, that barely bothered the creature.

  As it stared down into my eyes, I could almost feel its gaze burning into my soul, draining all the life and warmth out of my body. I had no idea how Octavian held it before.

  Dazed, I lifted my hand to send out a magic blast. The demon swatted in away and reached for my throat with his other hand. I stumbled backward, but I was too slow. My body was numb, my muscles slow and aching. His presence was pressing on my mind, slowing down my thoughts.

  I could feel the demon’s coarse skin as his long, bony fingers wrapped around my neck and squeezed the air out of me. I tried to break his grip while straining for air, but the demon’s grip was merciless. With ease, he lifted me up from the ground and dangled me in the air like a misbehaving child. The demon shook me, my head jerking back and forth, his grip becoming even tighter. He seemed determined to crush the life out of me.

  The sound of blood droning in my ears was drowning out everything else. My vision became blurry. I could see Octavian jump at the demon, but it threw him back with a backhand stroke without even looking at him.

  With my last bit of strength, I kicked against the tip of my sword that was still stuck in his chest. With an ugly, squirting sounds, it slid out of the demon and fell to the ground behind it. The demon looked at his chest in confusion, then hissed at me, showing rows of sharp teeth and a tongue that was split at its tip. I wondered if it was going to eat me, but I could barely manage to feel dread at that thought.

  I saw Octavian getting up again, and when I heard the metallic sound tha
t followed, I managed a slight smile. “Surprise,” I whispered weakly.

  A hint of confusion flickered over the demon’s face, then my sword threw an arc of blood through the air as it decapitated the demon in one clean stroke.

  I fell to the ground, landed hard on my ass, and struggled for air. My sword looked tiny in Octavian’s hands, but it did a fine job none the less. Carefully sharpened steel did. Despite almost being killed by some crazed, demonic entity, a feeling of warmth spread inside me. I was used to fighting alone, but fighting with someone who had my back, even when things went south… it felt good. When I pushed the sword out of the demon, I hadn’t been sure if he’d get it. But he had executed my plan perfectly.

  Octavian looked at me with worry in his eyes, his hand extended to help me up. This time, I took it. After making sure I could stand on my own, Octavian turned around and let his eyes wander over the vampires who were still watching us.

  “So, who’s next?” he yelled and spread his arms in invitation.

  The vampires hesitated. Looked at each other with uncertainty. Then they disappeared into the darkness. A moment later, the building was silent.

  Slowly catching my breath again, I looked at Octavian and whispered, “Thanks.” I held my hand toward him, my open palm facing upward.

  He looked at me and smiled, then took my hand gently.

  “No, silly,” I laughed. “I want my sword back.”

  “Oh,” he chuckled, a hint of embarrassment on his face. “You mean your knife?” he added with a grin as he held it out toward me.

  “Hey, don’t mock it! You got your ass kicked without it.”

  He hesitated, then shrugged. “I guess that’s true. And while it’s not quite my size, it certainly is a fine sword.”

  “Damn right it is,” I replied proudly and flipped my hair over my shoulder in an attempt to look cool. Judging by his face, it did not go as well as in the movies. “So what now? We should probably bring the dagger back to Allard, right?” I quickly continued.

  “Yeah. Oh, and we need to stop by Raina’s first.”

  “Raina’s? Why?”

  “I still got the compass,” Octavian explained as he ripped the shirt sleeve off the now dead demon-vampire-thingy and bundled up the dagger inside it.

  “Oh. But shouldn’t we bring back the dagger as soon as possible?” I frowned.

  “I promised I’d bring it back,” Octavian said in a voice that told me this was his final word.

  “Alright,” I shrugged. As long as the dagger was safe, Allard probably didn’t care if we brought it back half an hour later.

  I watched Octavian as he tried to put the covered dagger into his pants’ pocket, then stretched my arm out. “Come on, let me take that. Even though it’s funny to see you struggle with it.”

  He looked at me hesitantly, like I was questioning his ability to carry a simple dagger, but then he looked at the coat I was still wearing and pursed his lips. “Fine. But don’t try anything funny with it.”

  “What, you think I want to be turned into a demon thingy next?” I scoffed. “Or are you worried I might take off and sell it?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “You might.”

  I stared at him for a moment before scoffing and turning around, walking out of the building. Apparently, he still didn’t think much of me. To be fair, I was a mercenary with a possibly questionable past, but I had come on this mission for him and fought a demon without even getting paid for it. The least he could do to show a little bit of gratitude.

  He walked out the building a few moments after me, and went straight for his bike. I debated for a second if I should just go to Allard on my own, call a taxi or something. But with the blood on my clothes and the sword at my side, my chances of not causing a scene were slim.

  So I sighed and got on his bike behind him. I stared at him angrily when we took off, but I doubted that he noticed.

  8

  After a brief ride, we arrived at Raina’s shop. I still felt the uncomfortable tension between us, but I didn’t try to break it. Even if he hadn’t insulted me on purpose, his remark still pained me. I hated that I always cared so much what other people thought of me.

  When he walked into Raina shop, I stayed behind, to put some distance between us. I inspected the products she had on display in the store—a carefully curated collection. On various shelves, small jars of spices were surrounded with decorative herbs and stones. At least it would appear that way to regular humans.

  I looked over at Octavian and Raina chatting near the counter when his phone suddenly rang. It was a dark melody, like a church organ mixed with harps and more metallic or electric sounds. It reminded me of a depressed, metal vampire, and the use of the church organ gave it an almost satanic undertone.

  As he looked at the screen, his face darkened. “Sorry, I have to take this”, he muttered before rushing out of the store.

  I had to hold back a chuckle as I saw a glimpse of the screen. “Mother,” it said, with the caller picture of a stern but regal looking vampire. The thought of a big bad vampire like Octavian still being scolded by his mom was very amusing to me. Then again, he couldn’t have been much older than me, twenty-three, twenty-four maybe.

  But that didn’t mean much. Vampires were often turned as children, and when they came back from the dead as a vampire, their childhood was over. Considering he was in the Crimson Fangs at such an age, he might very well have been training in combat since he was ten years old.

  “So… bad day?” Raina asked awkwardly, pointing at my bloodstained coat and jacket.

  “Oh, uhm, yes. Some vampire turned into a demon or something. That turned nasty pretty quickly.”

  “Huh.” The witch looked at me, her eyes wandering over my outfit, then squinted at my face. “You’re not one of his vampires,” she stated.

  “No, I’m… a temporary ally.”

  “How so?” She cocked her head at me, her expression curious.

  “I’m helping Allard. To be honest, I’m not exactly sure why Octavian wanted me on this mission.” I shrugged.

  “Well,” the witch said with a smile, stepping closer. “If Octavian brought you on a mission, he thinks you make a capable ally. I’m Raina, by the way. I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.” she smiled at me, extending her hand.

  Hesitantly, I shook it. “I’m… Raven,” I replied after a moment. I usually didn’t walk around telling people my name. But something about her made me feel like I could trust her. She must have been around thirty, but she reminded me of a caring mother the way her eyes looked at me warmly.

  “Nice to meet you, Raven. If he brought you on a mission about a vampire problem, I expect I’ll be seeing you around more often. When their own people are making trouble, they usually handle things on their own, without outsiders.”

  “I don’t think they were his people, though.” And I didn’t think he would even trust me enough to leave me alone with the dagger for a minute. But I didn’t say that. “It was another vampire clan. Nox Aeternis, I think?”

  Raina’s face darkened immediately.

  “What is it?” I asked nervously. Did I misinterpret it? Was that not their name but more of a curse?

  “All the horror stories you heard as a kid, the monsters they show in the movies… These bastards are worse. I hope you two killed them all,” the woman whispered.

  I stared at her with open eyes. I had not expected such dark words from her. “You… know them, I guess?”

  Her shoulders sagged as she sighed. “Sadly, I do.” She turned around and picked up a stone from a nearby display. An amethyst, from the looks of it.

  “It was almost two years ago. Me and a few other witches from my coven got together for an afternoon of wine and catching up on life stuff. Just a regular girl’s night, you know?” Her eyes filled with sadness, her eyes gazing emptily into the distance while her fingers were playing with the stone.

  “Then suddenly, a handful of vampires b
arged in, just breaking the door open. I immediately realized they weren’t like the vamps I knew. They were paler, their eyes dark and full of hatred. One of them, probably the leader, demanded that we enchant his axe. He wanted it to burn the soul out of magicals, so he could kill us witches ‘like we deserved.’”

  She pursed her lips and paused for a second. After a deep sigh, she continued. “Of course, we laughed and flung spells at them, but he held up some kind of amulet, and our magic vanished. It felt like a block of ice, right in my chest, where my magic was supposed to be. Then his vampires took one of the witches, Susie, and started skinning her alive. He said he wasn’t going to stop until we did what he asked.” Her voice was trembling now, her fingers wrapped tightly around the amethyst.

  “What did you do?” I asked when Raina didn’t continue. I had seen some bad shit in my past, but I still felt a lump in my throat. On the streets of Darkhaven, killings were not uncommon, but torture? That was a no-go for even the biggest scum.

  “I thought I was brave,” she whispered. “So I threw a vase at him.”

  Despite the lump in my throat, I chuckled lightly. “That sounds pretty badass if you ask me.”

  “Yeah…” Her voice trailed off. “But I only pissed him off. He grabbed me by the throat, smashed my head against the wall. Then my… my dog jumped at him,” she whimpered. “A German Shepherd. Wolf, she was called, because she was so brave. But the vampire, he… he just laughed and… broke her neck.” Her voice was barely a whisper as a tear ran down her cheek.

  I stared at her, my eyes filling with tears, too. Anger and pain swirled in my chest as I thought of my Lady. If anyone hurt her, I would rain down hell upon them.

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my voice breaking a little. “I don’t know if it was him, but we might have killed that bastard today.” Memories of me being grabbed by the throat flashed through my mind, like she had been.

  The witch chuckled sadly. “No, he… he got what he deserved.” She sniffled, then took a deep breath. “A vampire heard us screaming as he was on patrol. Against protocol, he charged in without waiting for backup. The other vampires jumped him, of course, but he held his own against them. He wasn’t armed, but he managed to knock one out, and impale another one… with an umbrella.”