Super sorry I haven't posted in ike a month, but yeah high school is very...interesting. I will be posting hopefully every week, if I can, but you won't know until next week. Again sorry, and without further ado, here is Chapter 11- LLL
Chapter 10: Lissa
- 2 days ago, after the separation
Pain, so much pain. My legs twisted and scraped under me, head becoming one with the uncaring asphalt. Our car skidded out of my view, but the noise of the world thundered against me, and I suddenly felt small, like when Rose had grown angry with me. I couldn't move, I was shell-shocked. Still recovering from the last car dive, I was defenseless here. Gunfire ricocheted and crisscrossed the air, setting it ablaze with all the intensity of a war-zone, which it most assuredly was. I finally let my eyes open, fearing what I'd see. Indeed, my arms were scarred up and bleeding, skin hanging in shreds, and I was suddenly in my memories. The silver, glimmering knife that would be my release, my savior. I must let it lick my flesh, I must stop wanting, just let the knife control me and let myself open to the air that I wasted. No! I rocketed back to the present; and ignored my dark wanting to escape it or the known past, because I didn't know what would become of me if I didn't focus.
I was on the ground, near a massive SUV. Rose was running into a building, humans...and a Strigoi on her heels. I gritted my teeth in irritation and anguish as my arms and legs fought against my overwhelming desire to at least get the hell off this road. Oh haha one of my first swears.
A car exploded far from me, but it was easily seen, blasting 10 feet in the air before crashing down. Werewolves overran the scene, running and moving in the ten's; all different colors and sizes starting with massive. Police and new types of people in suits were firing or openly engaging the monsters, Strigoi soon joining in to result in a massive bloodbath.
All happening right down the street. Get up! I roared to myself, and warmth that seared my veins elevated me. I was floating, now watching the fight as one would watch their favorite fighter start to pummel their victims; I felt giddy anticipation. A wolf tore a Strigoi's head off with a pull and then propelled the body towards a cop. The man dived out of the way, but he just jumped into the waiting hands of his target. A squeeze, and his body fell to the ground with a broken neck. The Werewolf roared triumphantly, and then resumed the battle. I giggled as it ripped into a nearby woman's neck. Blood shot out, staining it's muzzle a deep red that mixed with its pale white coat of fur. Tearing away with what seemed like great reluctance, it tore the face off another person, took a bullet to the head, and then chased the man into his blue and white police cruiser. He must've tried to flee, but it failed because the Werewolf tore the door off the hinges( which hit a Strigoi), and then reached inside and made a quick pull, which I assume tore something off, or in half.
I smiled even as the heat receded, but suddenly I was no longer filled with anguish. I smiled, and stood, surprised by my sudden balance. I felt a tug, and pull. I was being drawn towards the struggle, and my stomach roared, as if something inside me was trying to go feed on the mindless carnage. With a firm stride, I moved towards the fight, unwillingly. What's happening?! I fearfully asked, but nothing would yield answers I was the one walking after all. Every step made me more and more nervous, until I was full-blown panicking. I had no idea what was happening, but somehow, I knew also that spirit was the culprit, the one that was leading me to my obvious death.
A Strigoi woman was indented into the ground as a WereWolf backhanded her. Her teeth and fangs gnashed together like how a fly cleans its legs, all conglomerated and gross with spittle spewing and all around her mouth like the fuzz on a goblet of ale. Suddenly, her eyes turned to me, and I was hit with the smell of blood. "Oh how long was it since I last fed?" All this running, and then the brushes with death had me weak, perhaps that's why I was approaching such a battle, the blood was calling me, asking me to take it in, give it a home within my veins.
However, this Strigoi was staring at me with eyes of pure glee, as if you just found 2000 dollars and nobody would ever need to know. She got up slowly, and hissed, "The Dragomir, she lives!" With a mad scramble, she attacked me.
I didn't know how she knew it was me, but I suddenly went over some of the maneuvers Christian taught me. Only Christian was much slower than a hungry Strigoi, and it pushed me to the ground before trying to get on top of me. I fended off her quick sharp fingers and punched, but I might as well have been hitting a brick, the Strigoi kept coming, eyes full of hunger. "Give yourself to me Queen, give yourself, You're sister did in the end, she enjoyed it!"
"Liar!" I scream, and warmth surges through me, searing my whole body until I feel about to pass out. My vision blackens, and then returns with a surge. Everything looks clearer, more definite. I can hear the sweat slithering through the densely packed hairs of the Werewolves as they fight, the muscles contracting and then shooting out, every strand that tears and instantly heals upon impact with the durable bodies and armor that protect the plush humans. The blood that pulses in their veins, oh it sings to me, sings beautifully. That human that I drained was pathetic, his blood horribly thin. But this blood, oh I must taste. A man fell right near me, throat torn out, but still leaking. I looked up just to be sure I was alone, and that same white WereWolf who saw us before stared at me. "Eat" he commanded, and I dug in without a second thought.
The fluid was still warm, still thick. I gulped it down, not even digging in with my fangs, but all my teeth. Once drained all I could, I sank my fangs into his arm, drawing the blood from there, then his chest, and his legs. I would not miss a drop. Once I was sure he was empty, I bothered to look around. The white Wolf stared at me with his red eyes while the other wolves fed and chewed on bones, or tossed heads in a sick rendition of Hot Potato. I rose, and the WereWolve's eyes followed me. I decided to be friendly.
"Hello." I greeted, but it came out my timid than I would have liked. The beast did not respond, only tilt his head towards the ground. I turned slowly, and saw the Strigoi woman, or at least her skeleton; she had no skin, no blood. Interesting..I looked back at the Wolf, who smiled at my indifference. I had the feeling it was waiting for me to do something, but I didn't know what. I shouted, "Why do you keep staring me?!" It didn't even flinch, only just barely incline its head again towards my arm. I don't see it at first, but then I notice a cut running right next to a vein. But what scared the hell out of me is what I'm holding in my hand.
A razor. With a shout, I drop it, and quickly heal my arm. I'm shaking all over, trying to breath. How did that razor get to me? What happened? That was how the Strigoi knew I was a Dragomir...I must've summoned it. But why did I cut myself? Memories of the cutting came back, and I shuddered, all the time the WereWolf just watching. It didn't make sense, how its eyes were feral, yet understanding, observant. The creature didn't move, its fur stood of its own accord, almost like it was independent from such. Finally I tore my eyes away from my studier and realized that we were in the middle of the street. I mean, I always knew, but suddenly all my self-presrvation techniques kicked in, and I broke away, running as fast as my useless sneakers would allow. Slipping them off to run barefoot, I ran. I didn't look back, not for any pursuers, not for that Werewolf, I just ran through the streets.
I ran until I was in a forest...on fire! Almost instantly I stopped, and found myself surrounded by by rolling waves of smoke, on the ground and above in the air. Dozens of creatures were bounding away, as I heard nothing but burning and crackle. Cautiously I retreated back , but the fire had gone behind me. My jean caught on fire, and I quickly rolled on the floor before such made it to my skin. Except the jeans were unharmed, not singed in the least. "What is happening to me?" I wondered, and I actually spent time to sit down and touch the denim. It was cool as if it had just come out of the factory. Then there was a break in the fire, and I saw where it had come from.
"Christian!" I roared over the inferno, but he couldn't hear me, he and three others was fighting were fighting eight Strigoi. The monsters however were new to their abilities, and kept coming at them with brute attacks instead of cunning. The fire reclosed around me, but I'd already made my decision. I was going to run away...
And hopefully draw a few away. I don't know what made me so confident, but my legs were suddenly moving of their own accord(again) and I was tearing towards the red and blue fire licks that made a wall. Then, before I had another thought than :Oh this was a bad idea, I jumped through it, and landed in a roll. Fire clung to me in sheets, but suddenly warmth blossomed in me again, and finally I understood.
My Spirit was manifesting! The fire blasted away from me, and my skin was left untouched. Without rising, I riled my powers up, and tried to do with the Strigoi woman(I still don't know what I did), what occurred before. Warmth seared my fingers this time, and they actually turned brown as from the heat before a bolt of white bounded from my fingers at the speed of a bullet. It struck a Strigoi man, who automatically stopped his attack, face blank. Fingers lay at his sides, feet shoulder with the part, head straight up, he was a complete statue; so still was he in fact that the other Strigoi gave pause to look at him. Then they found me, eyes filled of rage.
"She's doing something to him!" one hissed as they moved towards me. Only the male Strigoi sprung into action, and snapped the woman's neck. She let out a scream before she "died", and her body started twitching, trying to come back to life. The other Strigoi snarled and attacked him, but it was evident who was the oldest. Ducking a swipe to flip over another person, the man splattered blood and took minimal hits. Through the battle though, he started making easy mistakes, ducking back too far which completely makes him fall over, taking hits instead of evading, and he started bleeding from the mouth, nose, ears, eyes.
Finally, just as he tore the last Strigoi to pieces, he fell over and screamed, clawing out his own throat. Blood flew from his mouth, and he started withering, shrieking and gasping. I wanted so badly to help him, to heal him, but before I could even summon up the comforting warmth, he bursted into flames.. His screams intensified into cataclysmic howls, but they lasted only for a few seconds. The fire ceased, and but I barely noticed. I felt hollow, empty, as if I just lost a child, my own baby died, and the guardians slowly approached, hands in defensive stances. I watched warily, but they seemed more intent on the Strigoi-bob than on me. I felt slightly drained and cold, yet slightly hyped. I could control Strigoi for a bit...I didn't actually control him...I kinda abused him a bit and whatever I did killed him in the process. Oh well, they have to die after all, they might as well serve me a bit.
The men finished their inspection of the dead Strigoi, and then turned their attention to me. Both were aging nicely on the verge of 40 at least, and had very thick beards that were tucked into their black suits. They didn't have any real weapons, but perhaps they lost them in the fight; although why they haven't retrieved them already is beyond me. I'm wary, and wonder if they would bleed from their face and mouth too if I made them mine...woah, did I actually just think that? Too weird. Well, Might as well find out what they are all about.
"Who are you?" I shout at the pair, and a third man trudges forward. I don't recognize him at first, I mean who wears black boots with red pants, and a biker jacket? But, then I saw the shades, a lethal looking gun of some sort, and the scarf, and I knew.
"Zmey." I whispered, and Rose's dad smiled, although it was sad.
"Hello my queen. It appears we are all on the run are we not?" he chuckled and lit a cigarette, his two bodyguards scanning the area.
" , what exactly do you want?" I ignore his question, Rose's father was not called the Serpent because of his fearsome looks. Zmey just smiled and said, "Why my Queen, it would be rude of me to ask you to do something for me? The question is:
Will you come quietly?"
I cock my head trying to understand. Then I know, and turn to run before slamming right into a man's chest. Arms like a magic-infused cage snapped around me, and I screamed as they squeezed. My arms moved into me, and though it hurt, It felt good. Without any warning. I smiled and screamed, sending spirit all over, the people getting engulfed in the stream of power. A sweet scent rose up all around them, and suddenly I felt rejuvenated, better than ever before. I started to turn towards Zmey, execpt Zmey wasn't standing.
No one was. And as I saw their rotted bones on the ground, I screamed...
Please review, and be safe!