This city, a sprawling
metropolis of the world's tallest skyscrapers, used to be active
regardless of the sun's location. At night the city would light up
like neon Christmas with every open establishment advertising along
crowded two-way streets.
Tonight, it was a ghost town.
Almost literally, as thick condensation had found its way in between the buildings to about fifteen feet from the ground. The mist was almost sentient, slowly moving as though overtaking the city, the air unnaturally cold for this time of year. Not even the homeless were on the street and as I made my way maneuvered my bike in the direction of the shadowy castle, the fog moved against me, as if urging me to return home.
The cement, smooth beneath the tires, gave for a comfortable ride. To ease the growing fear in my stomach I allowed my mind to wander. I could only imagine how my ancestors felt when they reached this point; going to almost certain death to face an enemy who would was essentially invincible. For centuries, the Belmont clan had succeeded in driving the monster back but never eradicating him. Maybe the count had sensed my inexperience because this had been his most violent resurrection—
The ground suddenly became rough and uneven, forcing me back to this reality. Instinctively squeezing the brake, I chanced a look to the ground and saw that cement had given away to black ground. I tried to remember any scheduled construction in the city but could think of nothing. I looked up into a sky that was pitching black with no moon or a single star. Bringing the bike to a halt, I looked back and saw that I had left the city behind nearly two miles ago. I had been so lost in thought…
I was on his ground now.
Lapse in thought again could prove fatal.
The fog had remained in the city but the invading darkness was still present. As I looked around it appeared I was in a forest of some sort, but not one born of Earth; tall, thick trees, some as tall as the skyscrapers, all around me, but black as night. Not black as in how you would see a tree at midnight…but black. Trunk and leaf alike, dark as coal.
And apparently, I was on a trail.
A howling wind blew through them, through me, and the doppelganger leaves reacted as they should've, only the dark forest, moving in the wind, provided the illusion of the forest trying to push me out.
The wind stopped abruptly and the deathly still returned. I was preparing to continue onward, as the road ascended to the castle, about five miles ahead of me.
The sound of a sword being unsheathed went off behind me, followed by the sound of an approaching windmill. A windmill that sliced effortlessly through the trees and seemed to be coming straight for me…
I had less than a second to leap from my bike, throwing myself to the ground a few feet away before the largest scythe I'd ever seen cleanly pierced the left side of my engine, striking with such force that it went straight through and pinned it to the ground. As my heart raced and my mind processed the image, the scythe could've been wielded by a giant, the blade sharpened by a master's hand, so clean I could see the shock in my own face…
The whip. Get the whip.
Even as I reached for it and got to my feet, the forest seemed to draw upon itself, drawing in shadows from all directions to take form…the form of a creature at least ten feet tall and suspended from the ground, a deep blue cloak that housed an unseen shape, even as the scythe ripped its way free of my bike, shredding it in the process.
From the right sleeve of the cloak a skeletal hand protruded, catching its weapon. Crimson eyes, the only light in the dark, appeared in the head as the shadows finished consolidating and a sharp wind blew the hood of the cloak back to reveal a skull. The crimson eyes disappeared, and the creature seemed to lean down ever so lightly, its jaw opening in hunger, staring at me.
And in a single, horrifying moment, what was once legend became my reality, four feet from me, above me, coming for me.
I'm not ready….