Hate

by K. A Knight

  My wrists blaze in agony as they stitch together, but I don’t give them the time I need, no, I move, uncaring about the pain or the damage. All that fills me is the hate I feel for these men.

  They unlocked this madness when we were kids, and now they will feel the full wrath of it. I will kill them like I should have back then, without mercy or tenderness. They are dead men walking.

  The one with the messed-up throat and a vicious-looking scar marring it tries to turn and run, no doubt remembering what I did last time and seeing his death in my eyes now.

  He dies first.

  Grabbing him mid-leap, I break his neck and then rip his head from his body. Using it like a weapon, I throw it at the other nephilim who is also now trying to run. It hits him in the back and sends him to the ground.

  I stroll towards him, picking up the whip laced with barbed wire as I go. My shirt is falling from me in tatters, so I pull it off and let it fall to the grass, the night air stinging the healing cuts on my back, but it only makes me stronger.

  I let the whip trail along the earth, hissing over the leaves until I stand above the man. He freezes, locked there like prey smelling a predator. I guess he does. All his life he was taught to be the perfect weapon, the perfect slave. It makes them unable to think for themselves, unable to react quickly enough.

  It makes them easy targets.

  Lifting the whip into the air, I let him hear it coming, enhancing his fear which permeates the air, and then I bring it down again and again, faster and faster. Droplets of blood and chunks of skin spray as I shred his back. When I stop, my chest is heaving, and I loosely hold the whip in my hand which drips with blood, hair, and skin, and the nephilim is unmoving beneath me.

  His back looks like mauled meat, but I don’t want him to heal, so lifting his head I rip it off and toss it with the other, leaving them there. Slowly, my madness pulls back with a laugh in my head and I stumble.

  Pain hits me and my head spins. During the heat of the moment it had disappeared, but it comes back full force and I drop to my knees on the grass, my body contorting as I try to keep in my screams. Fuck.

  My eyes blur as it heals slowly. I feel each cut, each rip stitching back together, and all I can do is crouch here in pain, knowing someone could find me at any moment and I would be sentenced to death. I know what this means—my demise. If they find the bodies, the council will hang me, and it won’t be my wings they take this time, but my life.

  Dawn.

  She flashes through my mind, she needs me. I can’t leave her. Think, Griffin, think!

  “Well, that was impressive,” comes a drawl, and I leap to my feet, spinning to see whoever is there. I crouch in a defensive stance. I won’t let them take me alive, I’ll escape and come back for her.

  Titus.

  He leans against the tree I was tied to, his face impassive, but there is a smile in his eyes as he watches me. He runs his gaze across the bodies and then back to me. “Well, well, well, fallen. I’ve got to admit, I didn’t expect you to have it in you.”

  “I—” I fumble with words, fuck. I can’t kill him, they will launch an investigation and then I will be killed for sure, but how do I get out of this?

  Escape is my only option, but I’m weak and still healing, so I won’t get far. I’m at his mercy and he knows it. He sighs before standing up and stepping towards me, ignoring my growl.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll tell them I caught these two trying to leave and killed them.” He glances at the back of the nephilim I used the whip on and rolls his eyes. “Not before punishing them, of course.”

  I stare at him in shock and confusion, but distrust winds through me. The only reason he would help me, lie to his own people about this, was if he needed something, and I don’t think I could afford the price, but what other option do I have?

  “Why are you helping me?” I snap, my voice lined with pain. My energy is waning now and I stumble forward. I need to rest, not stand here arguing, but I have to know why. He notices and looks around before moving closer, his arm held out to help me, but I push him away and straighten of my own accord.

  “Come with me,” is all he says, and then he starts to walk. Titus stops at the edge of the trees and looks back, waiting for me. I hesitate, but what choice do I have? Maybe he’s leading me to my death, maybe not, but unless I magically heal and can escape him, I have no other option.

  I step towards him and his lips turn up slightly. He waits until I reach his side. My eyes narrowed, I threaten, “Try to kill me or betray me and I will rip out your heart and feed it to the monsters in your dungeons.”

  “Noted.” He laughs. “Come, I am not here to harm you, fallen.”

  “My name is Griffin,” I snarl, and he tilts his head to the side.

  “As you wish, Griffin, come.” Then he turns and winds through the trees and I follow.

  He leads me through the forest, and just when I think he’s going to turn around and laugh and kill me, he bends down and pulls open a trap door hidden there. He glances back up at me for a moment before dropping into the dark.

  This is a bad idea.

  But I descend down there anyway. It’s black, utterly black for a moment before I hear the strike of a match, and then he illuminates the tunnel with a candle. He passes it to me before climbing back up and shutting the hatch. He takes the candle back and then heads down the passageway without talking.

  I follow behind him at a safe distance, noticing the cobwebs on the curved walls which are brick and, unlike the dungeon, there are no claw or escape marks. So what is this place...and where does it lead to?

  “Where are we going?” I ask, my voice loud in the quiet. He doesn’t answer me but keeps on walking, our boots splashing in the small puddles of water floating at the bottom of the tunnel.

  We walk for another five minutes before it starts to curve upwards, then it ends in stairs. Titus places the candle on a holder there and blows it out. At the top of the steps is a square of light escaping through cracks of a thin door frame.

  He uses it to climb the stairs and waits for me there, letting me decide what to do. I don’t trust him, that’s for sure, but I can’t go back, so the only way I can possibly go is forward. I follow him up the stairs and wait behind him as he unlocks the door, swings it open, and steps through.

  I follow again and look around in shock. Where the hell are we? It has to be in the council’s mansion, but I’ve never seen this room before, and if they were trying to show off power this would be a good chamber to do so. It’s lined with gold. Gold frames house various watercolours of supernaturals in their forms. Golden lamps sit on a mahogany desk in the corner with the lights on. A golden chandelier hangs with what I can only guess are real diamonds.

  Everything is gold.

  It’s so fucking over the top.

  There are two emerald green sofas pushed together in a L-shape underneath a gold, ornate mirror on the left wall with a small table between them. Titus heads to a bar in the other corner, pours two tumblers of amber liquid, and strolls my way. He presses one into my hand before sitting on the sofa, his legs crossed.

  Testing him, I throw myself down on the other one, making sure to cover it in blood and sweat, and then I put my dirty, mud-caked boots on the table and cross them at the ankles. Sipping the liquid, I watch him. He doesn’t even flinch or frown, he doesn’t care. That, more than anything, tells me he’s different from the other council members, but why? And why help me?

  “Where are we?” I inquire. I struggle not to move around as my back starts to itch with the healing. He sips his drink before placing it on his knee and letting his head fall to the back of the sofa, his eyes closing as he sighs.

  “A safe place away from prying eyes. It’s cut into the walls, and only the original council knew about this. They used it as a hideout, a safe room, and to spy on people,” he explains.

  “How did they spy?” I press, deciding I might as well get information out of him while he’s talking.
It’s rare for him to be speaking, never mind to offer anything.

  “Through that mirror, it shows the private council chambers where meetings are held,” he replies without looking at me.

  “So why bring me here? Why tell me that? These secrets are dangerous.”

  “So are you.” He shrugs.

  “Who are you?” I question. He’s a mystery, he knows about the rooms and tunnels not even the council does. He’s powerful yet doesn’t show off, and I’m not sure Titus is even his real name.

  Most importantly, is he friend or foe?

  “A friend,” he offers.

  “I don’t have any,” I growl back, but then that’s a lie, isn’t it? Dawn flashes through my mind, as does Nos.

  “Fine, I’m not an enemy, Griffin, so stop looking for ulterior motives.” He exhales wearily.

  “No one helps someone without a reason, especially not council members, so what’s your reason, Titus? What’s your story? Where did you come from?” I counter, throwing back my drink and letting the glass drop to the table with a thud.

  He sits up, sipping his drink and watching me. “Knowledge is power, haven’t you ever heard that?”

  “Yes, so, what, you’re going to use this against me?”

  “No, I don’t need to. But I needed you alive, for now at least,” he admits.

  “At least that’s the fucking truth. Fine, what for?”

  “You’ll see.” He grins. “To answer your question, Titus is my name...now. It wasn’t always, I had another given to me by the man who made me.”

  He nods then.

  “Yes, like you. We have more in common than you could ever imagine, Griffin. I know everyone wonders what I am, but the truth is I am not one thing. I am so much more, a mix, a powerful one. I’m here because it is where I need to be, because I have things that need to be done. And you come into that plan, Griffin.”

  “You were made? How? By who?” I ask, interested now. I feel my strength slowly returning, and every minute that passes relaxes me. He’s not here to attack me. I might not understand his reasons, but that’s clear.

  “By a human many, many years ago. He created me out of fear and need, but I wasn’t the original, I was simply the first that went well. I didn’t try to kill him and had my own mind and soul, which is a tricky thing to create. But he bore me out of hate, Griffin, and fear and hate are strong emotions. It made me into a cold monster, as did the way I was brought up. I wasn’t a child, no, I was born into a man’s body and thrust into a world of pain and war. So let me assure you, I understand what it means to be called an abomination, an experiment. They will never know that I am one as well, but just think…” He grins. “A monster, a fucking experimentation on their own council, the thing they fear and hate most. Brilliant, isn’t it? Anyway, we have to stick together, so believe me when I say I mean you no harm.”

  He turns his wrist then, looking at his watch and sighing. He drains the glass and adds it to the table with mine as he stands and tugs his shirt back into place, it doesn’t dare defy him. I sit watching him. “Council meeting time. Why don’t you stay? You might find it...illuminating.” He winks and then heads to a painting on the other wall. “Oh, and Griffin? Don’t worry about those men, they are nothing. You? You have a destiny.” He opens the painting, steps out, and closes it again with a click.

  The room is silent, and I debate his words before standing and peering through the mirror he said was a spying aid. It must be a two-way mirror, but only able to be seen one way? Smart, really. I wonder who made this. He said the original council...the sleeping council? Why would they need to spy on their own officials? Unless they trust them as little as the rest of us do.

  Like Titus mentioned, it shows the inside of the council chambers. The four walls are soundproof, so no one can hear in, and the giant golden door is locked from the inside, so I’ve never even glimpsed it before, but I can tell from the table. A massive, wooden, ornate piece takes up the middle of the room with six throne-like chairs spread around it.

  There isn’t much else in the room except for a fire which is lit and a small serving area in one corner with yet another bar. Leaning against the wall, I watch as the door opens and the council files in. The last one is Amos, who sits at the head of one end of the table, while Titus takes the other, surprising me.

  “Meeting is called to order. Does anyone have any issues to discuss?” Amos calls, sitting back in his chair like a king. I almost snort, but I don’t know if they can hear me, so I stay silent, watching instead, collecting intel.

  “Not an issue, just informing everyone I had to dispatch two of your little loyal servants, they tried to escape and then attack me when I caught them. I punished one and then killed them both. Their bodies are currently decorating the east woods,” Titus says in a bored voice.

  I see Amos jerk, his face darkening in anger. “You do not have the power to dispatch any of my spies without first consulting me.”

  “You are not in charge yet, Amos. We are all entitled to punish our servants if we feel they are disrespectful, unless you feel you are better or deserving of more power than the rest of the council?” Titus challenges, a grin playing on his lips, knowing he has backed the man into a corner.

  “Titus is correct. If they were escaping, then they are useless to us. Moving on,” Derrin declares, his eyes looking at the clock on the wall.

  “I have been hearing rumours,” Greta starts, and Amos rolls his eyes, “of missing supernaturals. Has anyone else?”

  “Of course, we hear it all the time, nothing more than made-up stories. They have probably run off.” Amos waves it away, but she leans forward.

  “I do not think so. I trust these sources, and I do not think we should dismiss this so easily. We already have people questioning our leadership, so I think we should make a stand, show them why we lead and figure out what is happening among our own people.”

  Fuck, I wasn’t expecting that, and it tells me two things. One, Amos is a part of this but not all of the council is. I analyse their faces, trying to note those who appear to be in agreement, but it’s hard, they have all had hundreds of years at perfecting their poker faces.

  “Understood, we will monitor, and if the situation gets worse we will, of course, figure it out,” Amos concedes before looking around. “Any other issues?”

  “There has been movement from the dragons. A source of mine informs me one broke through the gate and has since disappeared. I will continue to keep my eyes and ears open to ensure this was not a random occurrence,” Derrin offers.

  “Dragons,” Greta scoffs. “They wouldn’t step foot here, they think it is beneath them.”

  “There have been rumblings,” Titus interjects, tracing his hand across the wood in thought. “At Rejek.”

  Rejek?

  The...the old mountain? I frown at that. I thought it was dead, cursed ground where no one walked. Why would it be rumbling with activity and why would they be monitoring a dead mountain?

  Amos glowers with contemplation in his eyes. “Indeed? How much...rumbling?”

  “Abnormal amounts,” Titus responds, seeming happy about this news.

  “I will send a message to confirm everything is okay,” Amos replies, distracted. “I will do that at once, we don’t need them interfering.”

  “Why? Hiding something?” Titus retorts, and Amos narrows his eyes.

  “It is for the best of us all. You are too young to remember the last time they walked among us, it was chaos. There was so much death, and half the council was killed as an example and replaced,” Amos snaps, standing and pressing his fists onto the table.

  “Indeed?” Titus mocks. “Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

  The others look back and forth between them, but it’s clear these two butting heads isn’t an unusual occurrence.

  “I am confident you do not want that to happen, Titus, and that if they did come here, they would agree with every decision I’ve made, which has nothing but t
he betterment of our people and their interests at heart. Now, if you will excuse me, the meeting is adjourned.”

  Amos turns and leaves the room, walking swiftly while the others talk amongst themselves as they exit, but Titus stays behind, turning his head and staring at me through the mirror like he can truly see me. I have so many questions, and that look only gives me more.

  Whose side is Titus on?

  His own? Ours? It’s clear it’s not Amos’s.

  So if all of the council members are not in on this, then I need to find out which members are before we kill them. My job just got a whole lot harder.

  When I cannot drive any longer, I take to the sky, flying the remaining distance to Rejek. I text Jean Paul and Nos beforehand to let them know where I am going. I hear back from neither, but then again, I am impatient and only give them thirty seconds.

  I soar over the frozen tundra, mountains, and fields. Civilization is left behind as I head to the very peak of the country, an unforgotten corner too dangerous for humans and most supernaturals. It doesn’t help that the mountain is believed to be cursed, which I suppose makes sense as a council location. They are the oldest of us, after all. One is awake at all times to rule over the others and step in only in dire circumstances. They are relics of lost years...yet now we need them. More than ever.

  Let’s hope they don’t kill me on sight.

  The flight takes over two hours before I see the first stirrings of the mountain. The air starts to get thick and cloudy until I can barely see in front of my face, and I am forced to glide lower, almost touching a frozen lake surrounded by trees. Even then it is foggy, an unnatural fog. I feel it passing over me, judging me for what I am.

  A security measure, no doubt.

  I soar above it and over the trees, and then a black shape comes in to view ahead. I turn that direction, knowing it must be the mountain. I can feel the old magic there, pushing me away, warning me to leave.