Right, next chapter up. For those who are actually keeping up with the Templar Story, thank you. Unlike some who just write for reviews, i write because i enjoy it which means that the chapters will never stop and i will never give up.
Tharagon
Mist hung on the still air. Beneath the silent moon's watchful orb, the barbed wire, mud and duck board of the German defensive line were stencilled, barbed shadows in the cold night. The last line of defence, the last trench and defensive line. Beyond this point it would be mile after mile of ruined streets and fire. Here, suicide was the only way the soldiers would describe such a posting.
There was a vast blast of light on the Eastern borders. A single German soldier started awake in his lofty watchtower perch, rubbing his eyes as the after images of the explosion filled his vision. He broke from his seat and grabbed the solid metal railing of the tower's edge and levered himself up, trying to catch a glimpse of the source of the explosion. Nothing moved, the mist crept around the girders of the tower base. Out there, beyond the moon's light, barb wire jangled in the slightest of breezes, but nothing moved.
There was a clatter of a phone bell as the tower phone whirred into life. The guard seized the plastic grip and took a quick breath.
"Guard Tower B! Vhat do you see?"
"Nothing, Kommandent…" the guard took a quick glance over the mud "…vhat the hell ist going on?"
The barb wire jangled with renewed vigour as the several dark shapes darted across the noman's land, leaping from trench to trench with ease, their path's marked by the slightest of breezes.
There was a ripple of gunfire to the left of the single prominent tower. It seemed strange, cut short as if some one had pulled the plug on the sound as the now muted night fell back into place. The guard felt his heart increase in speed as there was an exclamation on the phone line. He could here his superiors trying to find some kind of contact with the forward lines. And the confusion in his own kommandent's voice was apparent.
"Vhat ze hell ist going on?! Tower B, can you see anything!?"
The searchlight snapped on and filled the night with a single ghostly finger. Nothing moved out there, but the night air seemed a little busier. He could see the briefest of shadows, hostile movements which caused his fingers to reach for his rifle at his feet. He kept his eyes on the single finger of glittering light as he pushed the searchlight across as his fingers clung to the cold metal.
A flash of silver caught his eye as he pushed the light across the seemingly endless rolls of wire and anti tank blocks. Something made his heart stop for split second.
There, standing on the trench wall a mere two hundred metres away was a large wooden crucifix. And there, held in place by many bands of barb wire was a single German soldier, his uniform bloody and his helmet missing. Blood dripped freely from his jackboots as the nails driven into his feet added to the gore. His head sagged as his blond hair was covered with red stains, his face lacerated by many blades. It was a gruesome totem and as the German sentry gasped and reached for the command's phone, the crucified German soldier raised his head and screamed.
"Mein Kommandent!! Mein Kommandent!!" This time, the throaty crackle of the phone lines did not greet him, replaced by a horrible dull silence. There was another rattle of gunfire on the right hand side of the tower which then cut off abruptly, as if someone had pulled the plug on a radio.
At that point the power failed and plunged the tower into darkness. All across the defensive line things moved with malicious intent. Dark claws wandered over soldiers' corpses as fanged shadows ripped through crowded bunkers, their occupants shredded.
The single guard felt the monsters raising from the black beneath his feet and felt the cold kiss of the rising breeze on his face. He readied his gun and fired blindly into the night. Below, the Knights of the Knight Templar dropped into cover as the bullets rebounded off exposed metal. Or stopped…
A single round paused in air as a grey robe shifted, its occupant raising an armoured hand before its face as the air seemed to shift and boil around the bullet and its intended target. The bullet exploded as and ripped the grey mud around his feet as the force sent the grey robe rippling.
"Vhat the hell are you!!"
A shadow was in his tower before he could react as monstrous shadows flitted across the base of the tower, speeding their way to their objective. He could hear the snickering laugh and the hiss of breath as a razor sharp claw tore a hole in his chest…
"We……are your death."
Aboard the vast zeppelin suspended over the frozen city, the engines was full of noise as the last engineers were pulled clear as the ice began to build on the fuel pumps. Outside, it wasn't much better ever as, with a mind of their own, the frost covered nearly every surface as Vampires and Soldiers alike shivered and coughed in the freezing air.
"Ve have to get ov ze engine roomz, Captain..." A soldier stuttered over the grumbling of the 'rescued' engineers. "…ze engines are goingink to blow out vith all zhat ice incasing zhem."
"Nein…the Kommandent order uz to ztay put and guard ze door"
"Vell, I don't zee our little Fraulien down here to order uz, Captain" there was a rumble of dissent from the massed ranks of German soldiers and the more heavily armoured vampires who tried to separate themselves from the rank and file soldiers. "…vhy we must follow orderz from some freak vhen the glorious Third Reich falls below"
The officer's peaked cap rose over the massed soldiers, doubt whispering in his own mind as his men turned against him. "Zhat is traitorous talk, Private"
"Traitourous….Hah!" the single voice of dissent amongst the ranks, a brown clad sniper with a thick metal helmet set over his short brown hair looked around at his fellow soldiers "…vhy have ve been abandoned zhen? Hazn't ze third Reich abandoned us azvell? Zhey have betrayed uz."
"You vill be quiet…" the hoarse voice of one of the vampires rang out across the groaning sound of the ice. "…desertion iz met vith death, ze kommandent vould have you shot"
"Vhats ze use, Ve vould all die anyvay if ve continue on zis path"
"The Var is not over!"
"The var ist over. Ve lost…" he stopped dead as a surge of black fabric tore him asunder. A vampire, arm dripping with gore passed among the men for they had chance to move or for the wrecked body to hit the floor. There was a drip of blood on the freezing metal floor as the men yelled and panicked, the officer calling for calm as the humans tried to get as far away from the wrecked corpse on the floor.
"Nezer, ever zay ve lost. Deserters vill be shot. If not by the kommadent, by uz. Ve are ze Letze Battaion!!" He was torn apart by machine gun fire as a panicked soldier opened fire. It wasn't silver bullets and the surprised vampires returned fire. The dull groans of ice locked walls and the frost running riot in the engine room was drowned out by the roar of gunfire as bullets rang off the walls. Men were cut down, some gargling as their throats were cut. Vampires snarled as blood broke from their wounds, even if it was black rotting fluid as they moved in dark, fanged shadows across the walls and flowed across the floor at amazing and terrible speed. Soldiers screamed as sharp fangs met their throats as the vampires unlocked their jaws and tore through the close ranks.
The single Nazi officer, aghast at the chaos fell back as around him, his men fell bloody and dying as the vampires rose back to their feet, blood pouring back into open wounds as their bodies healed. They were sneering, laughing as blood lust coursed through their veins. Animals, that was what all was left of the once soldiers. Animals bound in blood to fulfil their own selfish desires and their want to feed. Perhaps Blitz gave them that. A conduit through which they could satisfy their own violent needs. Whatever it was, there was little humanity left now. He pulled himself into a corner, his own pistol limp in his hands as the frost slowly began to creep over the piles of bodies and freeze the blood which ran across the metal floor.
The ice was still covering the inside of the plane as the floor tilted, the pilots bringing the plane around for the final approach. Wrathwell pulled the scythe from its compartment as around, the motley array of Shotguns, Rifles and Machine guns were been armed and loaded, safety catches snapping off. Shia'ra caught the blood pack he tossed her with a quick flick of the hand which most of the others were unable to follow. Beside her, Lyra was sure she spotted a surge of red serpentine tentacles. Horribly, it put Lyra in mind of a shark rising to seize some held food.
"Ugh…." Shia'ra murmured as she turned the bag over, inspecting its contents. "…I hate it cold" And then it was gone. Lyra almost shrieked as the hand dissolved, skin falling away as several barbed, crimson tentacles tore from her long black sleeve and tore into the bag. There was a slight spray of blood before the plastic coating fell away, empty. Picked clean, Lyra shivered as the hand became one, the skin becoming. She could, though only just, see the skin distending as the tentacles flowed beneath.
"That…….was……." she gulped "…horrifying. I prefer how vampires eat"
"Vampires are animals with a delusion of some civility. I'm…." she turned and fixed the woman beside her with a hard stare. Lyra looked into her eyes for the first time since she'd joined the squad one and a half years ago. Before the hazel eyes, she could see the red specks of blood moving at their own accord over the curve of her retina. "…more a monster in mind and body…"she shivered "…oof, too cold…"
Wrathwell cracked the reinforced left side door open, the metal even more stiff as the ice covered its surface. Outside, the wind howled and nearly made him lose his grip as he struggled to keep his balance. The specially modified Lancaster bomber was streaked with glittering white as high above; the maelstrom of snow gave way to a perfectly calm, though cold night sky. He could see the stars twinkling far beyond, in that peerless, though snowy sky. It was quite surreal too; they occupied what appeared to be the eye of the storm, the blizzard kept at bay by the plane. And through the blizzard, which formed a massive wall beyond the edge of the plane's wing, was the Zeppelin.
The frost had cast fern like etchings across its mixture of grey cloth and steel. Harker truly was straining to keep the storm in order. Enough wind and snow even to cause problems to a zeppelin was unbelievable. As was the size of the Zeppelin. Wrathwell's appreciative whistle was lost in the winds as they swept below. That thing dwarfed most Battleships and Dreadnoughts he'd ever seen. It must have been thing of brilliant engineering and designed to get to the highest altitudes while remaining a stable platform for research and god knows what else.
The Red Swastika Banners hanging off the balloon made his gut twist uncomfortably as they passed by. What each red, white and black symbol meant would be a lesson to the rest of the world and a massive sour mark amongst the allied nations. Evil, human evil would always glare back, a horrible reminder to the rest of the world. And, in fifty years time, one big elephant to the Germanic Population.
A green light began to flash beside his head, slowly becoming covered with the thin sheet of ice as throughout the rattling interior of the plane, alarms began to sound and the men began to rise from their seats. Wrathwell felt a presence at his elbow and turned to see Lyra pulling herself into position beside him.
"How the Hell are we supposed to get over there Sir?!!" She yelled over the howling winds as the Zeppelin closer. They pulled quickly into the shelter of the balloon and slowed down even more, metal gantries and hanging wires whipping past as they flew by. And surprised looking soldiers peered out of portals….
A soldier snapped his heels together before Zorin's chair on the breeze. Zorin fixed him with one, half closed eye, the other closed in fatigue and stress.
"Kommandent!! Ve have spotted a large Black Aircraft oft the Eastern Side"
"Vell, I vas expecting Company. Who are ve expecting? The Vatican? Hellsing, The Americans? "
"Ve don't know. It looks British but there are no markings to report"
A rather cruel smile cut across her features. "Prepare the men, unt tell zhe others that our meal haz arrived"
Spotlights began to glare along the side of the Zeppelin as the Lancaster came back for its third passing. Already, the beams were panning through the howling snow, trying to give the turrets built into the side of the craft something to aim at.
Wrathwell braced himself at the door, the war scythe strapped solidly to his back by a large thick belt with several bright metal scales sown into the material as the two massive revolvers bounced up and down in the wind.
"We jump…"
"What…!!" Lyra paled visibly, if that was possible "…I didn't sign up for that!!"
"You didn't sign up at all…." Wrathwell grinned ruthlessly as he seized his Lieutenant's coat in one large metal gauntlet. "…joining us is as near to conscription as the British will ever get in this war….YOU READY!!!!?"
"NO!!!" Lyra shrieked as she was lifted bodily.
"That wasn't a question!!"
He sent her shrieking out into the howling wind as they passed another series of gantries. In a swirl of brown leather, brown felt and gun metal he was gone too, his feet carrying him more then humanly possible.
Lyra came to a screaming, skittering halt on a single metal gantry on the Zeppelin. It had been a horrific flight through the freezing winds, her face pelted with ice and snow as all thoughts went to the Vampires who were waiting for her on this vessel……and the drop. She raised her head, her charm bindings askew and tried to gauge her boarding point. She appeared to be between two segments of the ship, the gantry acting as an access point between the two sections. This was all held together by a mass of girders above and beyond that, the balloon stretched on up.
The metal plating of the gantry was covered in ice as icicles hung from steel wires. She was shivering, tired and in some state of shock. Not the best way to travel or get caught in a combat situation.
She could feel the soldiers moving to battle stations around her as alarms sounded across the ship. These were audible even over the howling winds which was surprising for the ferocity of the storm. Lyra clambered up, readying her pistol. The plane sped past again.
There was a screech of tortured metal as the several metal hooks clanged into the girders and gantries which made up this section of the ship. As if torn from the plane, shapes began break away from the ship, pulled in by the anchor like metal wires attached to the hooks. Columnists, their armour covered in ice and snow slammed heavily into the gantry or into the large metal girders which acted as some kind of scaffolding, and to them, an easy foothold.
There was another ship which had broken from the plane. A mist like form which seemed to hang on the wind before smashing into the side of the gondola several hundred metres away from their position. Renfield, Lyra could pick out the wolfish shapes which flowed within the mist which easily identified the wolf. However, she'd never seen him like that before. There was crump of breaking ice beside her and a dishevelled form of a Columnist dropped into view, shattering the layer of frost at his feet.
"Captain Brent…." Lyra gasped, as the others dropped into defensive positions around her "…am I glad to see you."
"Ma'am, we seriously need to get off this platform before they get wind of where we're landing. We're sitting ducks out here."
"I'm not going to disagree with you. Where the Hell are we going?"
"The best bet is the bridge; they're probably controlling the weapon from there."
Lyra took a long breath, knowing the bloodshed to come, "…and the others"
"They're dropping to other positions along the ship as we speak. All making for the bridge. Holmwood wants to locate the Bomb; Wrathwell is trying to rendezvous with us at some point. Harker is dealing with the engine rooms and Shia'ra is trying to locate officers and anyone who was directly involved with the project…" he cracked his fingers as around him, the silent shadows of the other columnists slowly dropped into view. There was an air of happiness in his voice as a large matt black shotgun was readied "…I think its time we got busy"
Something broke against the ice. In the engine room corridor, the Vampires raised their faces to the ceiling and sniffed, their nostrils flaring. The single human Nazi officer could feel his teeth chattering as the freezing air began to cloy thick in his lungs. It had defiantly dropped a degree; he could see the blood freezing on the floor as his men became frost covered lumps in their positions on the floor.
His pistol was covered with a thin layer of ice, the trigger frozen open. Inoperable, he should have discarded it a while ago, but the leather of his gloves had gone rigid, freezing his hands into a claw.
There was another clang. Something was defiantly moving either above them or outside. Some would just expect it to be the wind but after the year he'd spent aboard this vessel, it could be anything. There were several knocks as something solid rapped on the metal. It sound rather fragile, the once foot thick wall. Almost as if the thing outside was tapping on a pane of glass, not a heavily reinforced slab.
There was a series of clanks and clangs outside. The Vampires backed away till their black trench coats rested against opposite wall as their machine guns and rifles rose into position at their shoulders. Another rattling moan echoed through the corridor, the last lingering warmth been snatched out of the air as a gust of freezing air blew down the corridor. The officer gripped his claw like hands to his chest and pushed himself further into the gap between the two large metal pipes. Whatever was trying to break in was certainly a bad thing and he wished to keep as much of a distance between him and it.
He dragged himself from the gap and began to pull himself down the corridor to the frozen closed doors at the far end of the corridor. Behind, a vampire caught a glimpse of the single man as he scrabbled clear. His fangs ripped from his mouth as he sneered, his red eyes flashing.
"Vhat are you, a covard?"
He drew his knife and strode down the length of the corridor. He slammed his boot into the crawling officer's back and brought the knife down to the man's neck. The retreating officer whimpered as beneath those crimson eyes, he could feel fear gripping his soul.
The wall exploded in a blast of freezing air. A dark shape, its movements quick and hard to follow was through the vampires before they had chance to fight back. A flash of silver wrought hell as the serpentine form of Harker danced and swirled, her ebony digits etched with blood and silver as ice broke on her armour from her stint on the tail of the Lancaster transport craft. Her golden eyes were blazing with life as she brought her boot heel soaring down onto a black helmet before whirling round, one of the two knives tearing a hole through the heart of the her attacker before she swirled around. She swung low, a heavily muscled arm sweeping low for her head as she imbedded her blade in the others armpit, severing his tendons and causing the arm to sag violent before her other knife ripped his chest to shreds.
There was a spray of black blood as Harker broke free, several vampires falling dead and adding to the piles on the floor before pushing back. She skipped back into the group, tantalizingly close to one vampire's head before a silver knuckled fist planted itself squarely in his face, a silver knife cutting through his rib cage with ease as he staggered away surprised.
The vampire snarled and pulled his boot off the prone Nazi officer and opened fire, his snarl elongating in the flashing, barbed shadows.
"Shoot!!! Shoot till your empty!!"
Harker was a bolt of shadow at that point, her form elongating as she rebounded off the walls as the metal was scored with bullet holes. The vampire drew his knife as his machine gun clicked empty and rose his arm, the knife ready to block the on coming attack his hand, claw like and solid readying to strike. It would be fruitless, but he wasn't going to end his unlife without at least laying one wound on his attacker.
There was a clang of metal and the shock that ran through his arm was enough to shatter several ribs. But the attack stopped. He raised his head, a triumphant grin spreading across his features as he spotted the knife blade against his own, his own knife scarred and chipped with the amount of force pressed against it.
"Oh yeah…." He began to laugh as he stared at the still parrying knife, the sense of triumph welling up. He was still laughing as blood began to flow from his mouth. The black, foul smelling blood of a vampire dribbling plainly down his chin. He was still laughing as he slumped to the floor, the long stiletto blade of Harker's sword impaling him catching the light as it dripped blood, his blood onto the cold floor.
Harker pulled her blade free from the gleeful corpse and cast her arm back. There was a meaty thud and a groan as one soldier slumped back, a short knife imbedded in his chest, puncturing his heart.
"Worthless, all of you, worthless. You sacrifice your lives for this, a petty immortality and power and yet you are still defeated by an elder, one you so easily cast aside when you walked this dark path…." Harker sheathed her stiletto blade, the scabbard falling into place around it, like a snake regaining its skin "…why leave your lives behind when there is so much to have in the real world. Is to be a vampire, to be greedy?"
The single Nazi officer rolled over and groaned as he raised his head from the ice covered floor. More bodies met him as Harker's slim shape strode away from him, her swan like body swaying slightly as she ripped her knife from the dead vampire's chest.
"What is your name?" the elf paused, red tresses spilling from the back of the mask as she turned her head."
"Mein name…" the officer stuttered, his attacker in pieces beside him "…Mein name ist Strauss."
"Well Strauss…" Harker paused, mid step "…I would advise you find a parachute and get out of here now." She spoke with a cold, British accent, a voice which filled with Strauss with a chill as he sat there. The accent didn't suit the form however, her body was more…well, he couldn't quite place it….it spoke of exotic places. The scent of spices and fruits were on the air around her, even if they were of a clean scent unlike the exotic spices he knew. The very air rolled with the sense of the unknown and to stare into those twin golden orbs would be….like leaping….no, that wasn't it, something older which existed in all humans' minds….like the will to fall.
"Who are you…?"
"Me….?" Harker didn't bother to look back as Strauss scrabbled to his feet "…me, my own, my only…" she paused, in thought "…they call me….Harker"