Chapter Twenty-Five
True Emptiness
Dead silence hung in the air. It lacked the sounds of nature, of insects and movement. Nothing lived down this way, the atmosphere was oppressive and the tunnels cramped and dark. Yet here they were, in a domed cavern within the bowels of their home; face to face with a ghost from Mika's past, and the Vampire Prince was stunned and unresponsive. His companions could do nothing but watch, wide eyed as he backed within himself to sort out his thoughts.
'Impossible… impossible!' Mika thought, hands shaking upon his knees. Darren looked desperately between Mika and the woman ten feet away from them. 'Juliet is dead… they found her body… charred to a crisp.' But looking at her face… Mika couldn't bring himself to; instead he glanced around their surroundings once more, noting the torches in the far corners of the room, the torches that had guided them 'Like moths to a flame…'
The torchlight flickered upon her form, her eyes seemed to glow with rage, and she bit hungrily at the corner of her bottom lip, drawing blood. "Kekekeke 'Juliet'… Nobody's called me that in… over fifty years." Her voice was giddy as she spoke her name, but the jovial tone was replaced with a growl as she drew her second weapon. "It's 'Jewel'."
Everything was off. 'This… person.' Mika thought, trying to calm his irrational breathing. 'She is Juliet, she can't be Juliet, Juliet is dead. Juliet would never smile so maliciously. Juliet was kind. This woman is mad. This woman is…'
He looked her over once more; the once shoulder-length hair that he remembered being so perfectly tousled no matter how she had tried to tame it, fell straight and long to the floor. Her eyes, once bright, hopeful, young… now seemed to gleam with ill-will, malice, hatred. She wore all black, leather, slick, and dangerous with daggers in her boots, guns around her thighs, swords at her hips, knives around her belts and a murderous gleam in her eye.
Mika shuddered as her body convulsed with laughter. "That's impossible. Juliet is… well she's dead, Mika. You said so yourself!" Darren, dumbfounded by his fellow Prince's uncharacteristic behavior began shaking him. "Maybe a daughter or granddaughter or something! Or just a look-alike…?" The last words came out as a broken whisper, interrupted by more laughter.
'Juliet' cackled a sickening and giddy sound that should never have escaped from her petite body, and pulled her hair back behind her shoulders, revealing her bare shoulders. "No, no children." She wiped the corner of her eyes where crazed tears had formed during her laughter, idly twirling her sword in her hand expertly. "No time for children. Too busy hunting leeches."
Suddenly her fingers twitched irritably, and the Vampires tensed.
There was another flash of metal as, lightning-quick; she threw one of her daggers at them. Luckily Larten had anticipated her movements, and countered with one of his own throwing daggers, which collided with hers in mid-air, sending both plummeting down where they imbedded themselves in the floor. 'Juliet' narrowed her eyes.
"I wasn't anticipating three-for-one today."
"I don't suppose you were," Larten huffed, causing her wicked smile to return. "What is the meaning of this? Who are you, and what is it that you want?"
The question struck her as hilarious, and she began laughing once more. Larten exhaled, seriously considering letting down his guard because of this woman's maddening actions. From his experience with Murlough he knew the mad could be unpredictable, had spotted the insanity in her eyes the moment Darren did. He wasn't very old, but he had been around long enough to know the signs, as if maniacal laughing and growling weren't dead giveaways to her mental state. Though there was something about her entire pose that Larten couldn't quite shake. There was what appeared to be a collection camping gear and duffle bags behind her, in the far corner hidden from the touch of torchlight, as if she had purposefully concealed it in the event someone were to happen upon her dwellings. However, if their assumptions were correct when they had been following the tracks… she had led them to her, purposefully, knowing full well that they would find her. Perhaps it was the stolen sundries from Seba's storerooms, but if that was the case then she most definitely would not be hiding them, since she had deliberately stolen them, and she would have to know that they had come to these depths in search of the culprit. Nothing added up and it fueled Larten Crepsley's hesitation as he eyed the woman in front of him.
The laughing ceased, Jewel dropped her arms to her sides, the black-hilted sword stabbed into the dirt beside her left foot. "My name is Jewel." She answered, eyes closed, smile gone. "That is what I am, a diamond cut for killing."
Her words hung in the air, a threat without direction that left the two alert Vampires muddled.
"Killing who, why?" Darren asked, hopeful since she had dropped her weapon that she was no longer going to attack them, but wary by the way his sire still held his stance.
"You."
"How do you plan to do that?" Larten sneered, she cocked her head to the side, eyes mad and wide. "As you said, 'three-for-one'. You are woefully outnumbered by opponents vastly more powerful than yourself. You are outmatched." He steadied his gaze on her, watching that smile return.
"Outmatched?" it was her turn to sneer. "If you're as bad at fighting as you are ugly, you'll find I'm more than a match for three leeches."
Darren opened his mouth to respond, but quicker than he could react she jumped, dodging Larten's masterfully thrown knives in an impressive arc. She landed beside the young Prince, who barely had time to raise one of his daggers before she knocked it out of his hand with a roundhouse kick, and planted her palm squarely against his jaw, sending him reeling backwards. As he righted himself she landed another hit squarely to his midsection, and as he dropped an uppercut to his jaw. Unused to such attacks, and barely trained enough in the ways of sword fighting (let alone hand-to-hand combat), Darren reeled, and fought to right himself as his mind began swimming with each connecting hit she threw. She moved to jab at his throat, but Larten cut her off with a kick of his own. Whatever sort of martial-arts she was using were completely lost on Darren as he clutched his mouth with both hands, uncertain if anything was broken. Jewel began some sort of ninja duel with Mr. Crepsley, a mix of dodging his fists, feet and knives, none of which Darren could follow, and he was amazed at how expertly she moved, since Vampires moved at a much faster rate than humans. The bald Prince couldn't help but wonder, simply by watching, if perhaps she wasn't human.
Jewel jumped backwards, avoiding a full-arm swipe from Larten, in full arc that belied years of gymnastics training "You're not very good at this, are you?" She laughed, landing in a crouch. Larten merely frowned. "You seem to be doing better than the little master over there, though." She gestured to Darren, still clutching his aching jaw. "And let's not forget, tall, dark and pathetic crying in the corner from shock. All these years and all this time and he won't even come play with me." The smile returned in full force as she ignored a swipe from Larten's nails, allowing them to cut her arm, while she stared down Mika's hunched form.
Fifty years he'd wondered what would happen if Juliet was alive, if she was Vampire like himself, what she would look like, how she would react. Never had he imagined it would be anything like this. Her speed was remarkable, her ability to keep up with Larten's attacks was surprising, however Mika could tell that the elder Vampire was holding back, waiting for Mika's instructions on how to handle the situation. The only problem, he didn't know what to do. Before him stood the one thing he had wanted for the past fifty years, perhaps even longer, and she wanted blood. She wanted blood and death… and nobody knew why. He did not leave her broken, sobbing and in pain. He left her with the knowledge that she was loved, as he had told her repeatedly that very night. None of this made sense.
"Juliet, stop this!" He shouted, shaking himself out of his immobilized awe.
"Ah he deigns to speak!" She smirked and stopped moving completely now, she and Larten both jumping a distance backwards and away from each other.
Their eyes met, and Jewel stopped smirking. "You say you're here to kill us. Why."
She didn't speak for a moment, content to set her blazing glare upon Mika, eye twitching in excitement. "Clarification." She hissed. "Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, life…" she bent down and retrieved the dagger she had previously dropped, slowly bring it up and pointing it at Mika with menace. "For life."
"What sort of 'life' are you talking about? Where does this vendetta stem from?" Larten barked, backing towards Darren as Mika began moving towards their opponent. The woman ignored him, instead fixing her ethereal gaze upon Mika.
"Juliet I have never wronged you." Mika stated. "Never harmed you or your friends. I have never done anything to hurt you."
She giggled. "Leeches and liars, leeches and liars, leeches and liars, leeches and liars. LEECHES AND LIARS. The two things I hate the most."
"I am not lying to you Juliet-"
"DO NOT CALL ME THAT!" Her shriek echoed throughout the domed room for what felt like eternity, her eyes blazing with rage. Mika, Larten and Darren all took an unconscious step back. She was hyperventilating. "Nobody calls me that. Nobody. No past, no future, only the now. Only the kill. Only you." Again she pointed the dagger at Mika. "Nothing since. You took, took all. Nothing since, nothing left. Leech, liar, thief! I've come to end your miserable existence and that of your entire godforsaken race."
"You can't do that Juliet-" she screamed again. "It's not who you are, you're not a killer, you are not." He motioned to Darren and Larten to back up, and slowly took another step towards her.
"How would you know what I am anymore, Mika ver Leth?"
She attacked.
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It had been over fifty years since he had sparred with Juliet, in the open courtyard of her manor, or even the fields surrounding it, and in those fifty years he had worked his body to physical perfection, toning every muscle and building them until near discomfort, preparing body and mind for any threat that came his way, and it seemed Juliet had done the same thing. Gone was the clumsy footwork, the incorrect hand placement upon her sword, the feminine laughter whenever she fell. Now she was trained, honed, and deadly. Now she came at him with pure malice in her eyes instead of cautious awareness. She was not the precocious young woman he knew, instead a highly skilled killer. He could tell she had spent years training her technique, the way she moved so gracefully, light on her feet like he always knew she would be. She sought out his weak points and struck with killer intensity, though she found none of her hits connecting. A kick to his midsection, aimed at vital organs-dodged, an open-palmed thrust to his collarbone, meant to shatter-evaded. It wasn't until she began swinging her own blades that the Prince grew worried and quickened his movements. Her frustrated screams echoed off of the walls, reverberating in his chest. Mika did not draw his sword, aware that the way she was jumping and clawing and striking, he would no sooner turn around than slice her open upon the broad metal. Instead he dodged, never attacking, simply evading; dancing around the room with her until she screamed in frustration, leaping backwards into a handstand, snatching her second sword from its impaled position in the ground, and landing on her feet.
"Stop running and FIGHT ME YOU FUCKING COWARD." She screeched, holstering her two swords and removing a throwing dagger from her hip and a pistol from her thigh holsters. Mika froze weaponry such as this was beyond him, though he knew the damage guns could cause. It was a very human move, drawing a weapon like that, and Mika immediately regretted treating the fight like a spar, and his opponent like a Vampire, living by the same creeds as he. This woman was no Vampire, regardless of her speed and youthful looks, and the Prince realized now that he'd made a grave error.
"Put the gun away, Juliet." He snapped.
"Get over here and make me, pretty boy."
A shot rang out, but with unnatural speed, even for a Vampire, Larten tossed one of his throwing knives directly into it, causing the bullet to ricochet into the cavern wall. Jewel cursed and fired again, with the same results. Screaming she tossed her own dagger at the scarred Vampire, which he dodged, then immediately pulled her other gun. "Oh Mika. Oh god, I hope you don't die from these bullets," she began firing rapidly with both. A hail of bullets fell upon the Vampires, who scattered, Larten pulling the still dazed Darren one way, and Mika going the other. Cursing, Jewel aimed at Mika, following his body with bullets but unable to keep up with his speed, the other two could wait until she had finished with her target. The sound of gunfire was deafening in the large cavern, echoing off the walls, shell casings hitting the soft ground in an endless stream until finally the only noise was the 'click-click-click' of empty clips, and the disgruntled screams of a madwoman.
Tossing the guns aside, Jewel rushed forward, drawing her blade, catching Mika as he stopped fleeing. "I'd much rather gut you with my own hands!" she slashed, catching his arm. He cursed, leaping to the side to avoid another attack, but she anticipated it and tripped him with a low armed slash that sent him crashing to the ground, even as her knee connected with his nose.
"Mika!" Darren shouted, watching as his fellow Prince fell onto the floor.
Mika shook himself, catching his body with his hands, but Jewel kicked him, savagely, in the gut, one time, two times, three times, cackling like a witch as he struggled to catch his breath. That's all it took, one misstep and she had him in her clutches.
"Too easy, Mika, far too easy." She kicked him again, and then leaned down as he rolled onto his back in the moment of reprieve, clutching his midsection. She gazed at his features, contorted in discomfort, and then straddled his waist in a vice-lock, pouting provocatively even as she pressed the edge of her blade against his neck.
"Juliet, please," he looked at her, the fire in her eyes caused him to shudder, and the way she ground her hips against his in time with his panting forced a groan from his throat as his eyes threatened to slide closed.
"You were my first, Mika." She whispered, eyes locked upon his, and he groaned again, this time from the pressure of her blade on his windpipe. "Do you know how sick that makes me?" blood began trickling down his neck. This was it; this was the end of Mika ver Leth. Bested within the halls of his own domain by a woman he had forgotten to time.
There was a swish of air beside them, and suddenly Jewel's cheek bled and a hunk of her long, black hair fell to the ground. She screeched, enraged and distracted, leaping for the new target like a feral animal, releasing Mika from her grip.
Larten caught her as she jumped, causing them both to tumble to the floor, rolling right over to Darren, whom had drawn his sword again. The elder Vampire pinned her to the ground, arms against her sides, but she'd gotten her strong legs around his neck and twisted, forcing him to let her go or court his death. The young Prince greeted her as she stood, slashing with his weapon. Out of sorts, Jewel narrowly dodged his assault, backing up repeatedly straight into the red-clad Vampire. They were working together to keep her from her target, damn them. Perhaps her earlier boast was off, but then again, as she looked from the distressed youth to the aggravated elder, then again, perhaps not.
She ducked Darren's next strike, dropping into a perfect split, then bent backwards onto lifting her body with her hands and kicked his blade from his hand, before standing and beginning a new attack strategy. Jewel turned to Larten, drawing her throwing daggers and he his own knives, they met, trading strikes with such force that sparks radiated from the metal of their clashing weaponry. Darren picked up his fallen dagger and turned, but the hunter had already anticipated his move, and once again dropped down beneath the attack, causing Darren to hit Larten's knife, tripping the boy after they had knocked each other's weapons out of reach, and causing him to slam his head into the ground, keeping him down for an indeterminate amount of time. Armed with only one throwing knife left, Larten began attacking with his ultra-sharp fingernails once more, utilizing them as if they were blades, forcing Jewel back again.
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Mika coughed, still recovering from the blows to his stomach. It seemed they had all underestimated Juliet, as she danced with death by dodging Larten's attacks. He stood shakily, shaking his head and rubbing at his neck. The wound had already closed, leaving no blood on his fingers. He steadied a his gaze upon Juliet, watching as she dropped to the ground, tripping Darren, knocking him out and all the while still fighting his sire. He cursed. Would there be no end to this pointless battle? He had three new bruises and no idea why she continued to attack them, wanting them all dead.
She'd called them 'leeches', a word he had never heard Juliet use.
She had also said that she was 'too busy hunting leeches', which also caught him as strange.
He surveyed her again, from the tactical belt to the leather pants to the combat boots, still unsure how she had gotten into the mountain, let alone found it.
It wasn't until she caught one of Larten's hands and smashed her skull into his that Mika snapped himself out of his thoughts. He had never been so fuzzy during a battle before, and was furious for it. He drew his sword, ready to take things as serious as death itself. 'No more,' he thought. 'This insanity must end, for the both of us.' Mika would incapacitate her, sedate her, and keep her for observation, perhaps find a way to erase her memory and set her right, though he still could not fathom how she had kept from aging. Again his focus was wavering, and he growled.
Larten sagged, shaking his head, his eyes unfocused as blood dripped from his forehead. Jewel bore the same mark on hers but laughed instead, the calloused, malicious cackle that made Mika's blood boil, his grip tightened on his steel. He saw red.
He rushed her, his sword to his front. "Juliet!" he screamed, running toward her. Darren stirred at the noise, hoisting himself up in time to witness the scene before him. His mind was fuzzy, but he saw what was to come.
"Mika no!" he shouted.
She seemed to waver on her feet as he screamed, turning with a cruel smirk, unarmed. With no time to react he crashed into her, skewering her on his blade.
He realized too late that she was as dazed as Larten had been, noting the blossom of bruised flesh on her forehead, the trickle of blood along her ears, and the lack of focus in her eyes. Mika blanched, watching as his sword plunged into Juliet's bare midsection, the long blade reappearing on the opposite side. She'd had no time to react, simply assuming he was trying to coerce her into backing down once more, but he hadn't, he was no longer underestimating her. This was a battle, he gasped, aware now that he had come out the bloody victor.
His breaths shallow, his hands trembling, he watched, dumbfounded as she somehow still found the strength within her to laugh.
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Mika stared in horror as Juliet gripped the sharp metal of his sword and slowly began dragging her body towards his. He fell to his knees, unable to drop his weapon out of shock.
"Isn't this right?" she whispered, blood oozing from the corners of her mouth as she crept closer and closer. Mika couldn't bring himself to drop his sword, his shoulders heaved from the strength of holding back tears. "This is what you –gack- wanted all along?" Her hands were bleeding profusely, making the metal slick and hard to grasp, but she kept pulling.
Darren fell to his knees and looked away, unable to witness this woman brutalizing herself further. Larten crouched next to him and placed his hand upon his apprentices' shoulder. Though accustomed to the sight of brutality, the elder Vampire wanted no part of the scene before them. He could only watch in resignation as his Prince stared brokenly at his one-time love.
Mika hung his head, his breath ragged and betraying his strong stance. His sword continued to shake and shake from the weight of the body on it. As she moved closer he found his head moving upwards, and felt the stream of blood trickling down from the gaping hole in Juliet's gut. His brain was whirring. How could he have allowed her to get stabbed? How could he have hurt her? Why did she attack him? Where has she been? Why hasn't she aged?
How is she alive?
His sword stopped shaking. The blood that trailed down his hand was warmer now, but he couldn't bring himself to look up; to look at the pain he knew would be written clearly upon her face.
"Mika?"
Her voice was so quiet, so fragile, so scared. Gasping, he looked at her, tears flowing freely he met her eyes.
Beautiful pale-blue eyes.
"Sh-shouldn't-t-t you b-b-be happy? We're b-b-both get-t-ting what-t we want-t-t-ted-"
Her face, though now blood pooled around her lips, was just as beautiful as last he saw her: The same high, round cheeks, the same small nose; the same ethereal eyes, no longer crazed but full of clarity, pain and deep sadness.
"It –gack- it h-hu-hurts Mik-k-ka." She whispered, shaking uncontrollably. She looked pleadingly into his eyes. "M-ma-make it s-stop."
He couldn't hold his sword any longer. Both of his hands went around her small frame, embracing her body against his, and effectively finishing her trek to the hilt of his sword. She gasped, blood spraying from her mouth, and he held her; sobbing brokenly against her battered form for what felt like hours.
Her voice was the dusting of moth's wings. "I've… dreamt… this moment."
Silently Larten approached and removed the Princes sword from her body. Juliet did not flinch, her body past the point of pain. With the absence of the metal, blood began pouring out of her in a steady stream, and she grew paler. The sword clanged on the ground as Larten returned to Darren's side.
"Can't we do something?" the young Prince moaned, staring heatedly at his sire.
"All these years and you still believe the fairy tales." He said, somberly. "There is nothing our blood can do, and not enough time." He brought his hand to his mouth and shook his head sympathetically.
Mika cradled the small form against his, slowly rocking back and forth as if to lull her to sleep, whispering, "I love you. Still I love you." She was no longer moving. He couldn't feel her breathing. "Why, Juliet?"
Slowly he laid her on the floor, crimson began gradually pooling around her, but Mika would not let her go, silently crying into her shoulder and holding her hand in against his chest.
"Th….is…"
Thump-thump… thump…
His head snapped up, and he looked into her eyes, half-lidded and glazed, met his and he touched with his heart the hole filled by true emptiness that lived within her, that had overtaken her body and soul until it drove her to madness. The hole he had made when he walked away from her. Gently her lips moved, and she sighed out; "How… it's… s'posed… to… be…"
Mika encompassed her with himself, afraid to let go. He had lost her once, twice and now a third time? Could fate be any crueler? Her breathing ragged and wet as her body struggled to overcome the blood loss, his own breaths came erratically, from the enormous weight of guilt he felt, and the sheer force of his sorrowful sobs; yet as his own inhalations quickened in pace, the body in his arms' became startlingly slowed.
Thump-thump…
Her eyes closed.
Thump…
Her hand fell, limp.
The terrifying silence.
Mika howled.
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Over. Just like that, everything had ended. The madness was gone, and silence permeated the room once more. Mika brokenly pet the body in his arms. Larten stood and tried to move the prince away from the body on the ground. Everything he had ever hoped about Juliet being alive, well, happy… everything had been wrong. She had become broken and tormented, believed he was somehow the source of all her pain.
He had thought that he was done mourning; no longer would he weep over something long-since lost. That he had come to terms with never seeing her again; never again kissing the full, pouty lips until she smiled. Mika gasped, feeling the loss anew, from its terrible beginning. The indecision as he stood over her sleeping body, knowing that he must leave, but so desperately needing to stay. The rising uncertainty in the second town over that very night, as he fed from a street vendor before he could open his stall, he knew something was wrong, but he could only keep going, had to keep going, because a single step backwards would put him within her embrace. He entered the halls the day before his investiture to howling applause, yet he felt unease, as if he'd made the wrong decision, but the moment he'd joined his blood with the others, those feelings disappeared… along with his precious memories of Juliet. He'd believed he had repressed them, purposefully protecting himself from his own self-hatred. Now, reeling from reuniting and the loss of Juliet all over again, his original doubts came flooding back. When he had the tiniest doubt, twenty or so years ago… when he went to see her and everything was destroyed, he was taken back to that night, as he fed from the unconscious man behind his jewelry stall, the prickling in his spine that something was amiss. How his mind longed to return, but his feet continued to walk him towards Vampire Mountain.
What had happened? How did everything go so horribly wrong? First she had perished in a fire, now she was slaughtered by him, impaled upon his sword, maimed with his own hands. He shook himself, aware that he was gasping for air as he stared at her body. The blue streaks in her hair were slowly becoming stained crimson as she lay in her pool of blood. He wanted to reach for her, to touch her, soothe her, love her the way only he knew how, if he could even remember, but she was gone. So far gone and away from him, just as she wanted. Juliet was smart, she knew walking into the battle that one of them would not make it out, how she sorely had wanted it to be him, and yet in the end she was happy. Happy to be the one dying. To have the last word.
"This is how it's supposed to be."
She was right. She was human, he was Vampire. It was the way, she would die first. Is that not why he left? To protect her from this horror and any others that accompanied him as a warrior Vampire General. Yet, that wasn't what had happened. She had lived, had stayed young for fifty plus years and sought him out, wanted revenge.
His head was spinning, he was thinking nonsense. The Prince shook himself, still panting, but unable to still his rapidly beating heart. Everything, every sense, every feeling, every doubt he had had about his motivations surrounding Juliet, they all felt wrong. It took every ounce of his control to still his body's trembling.
"What… just happened?" Darren asked, aware that there was no answer that could rightfully be given.
Slowly, Mika stood and walked over to his fellow Prince, before collapsing upon the ground once more. However, he was unhappy with even that, and rose to his feet, heading unsteadily toward the exit to the cavern, and back the way they had come. Larten was left standing over the woman, a deep frown upon his face. He leaned down and brushed the hair from her face, surprised at how warm her cheek still was even after all the blood she had lost.
Darren's voice, barely a whisper, "We… we can't just leave her down here…"
Larten agreed, and he leaned forward to lift the body from the ground, his slender fingers wrapping around her upper arm as he lifted her.
Thump…
He stilled, his eyes darting to Darren, who looked at his sire expectantly. Mika was still unfocused, shaking his head in bursts to ward off his confusion. Larten looked back down to the woman in his arms. There had been no heartbeat when Mika had released her body from his grip.
Thump… thump…
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Recommended listening: of course Rolling in the Deep-Adele and I dreamed a dream-from Les Miserables (doesn't matter what recording the lyrics are the important part).
Long chapter, please review! Please!