Chapter Thirty Seven: Not All Hope
I had never seen so much blood.
Truly, never in my short years of life had I seen anything so horrifyingly gorish. I'd ripped some man's face off and thrown him through a window, strangled a Lycan with a water bottle and belt (and skinned her hand), crushed the skull of a shape-shifter by repeatedly beating its head with a rock twice the size of both of my hands, and watched my late Emperor being burnt alive at the stake.
But nothing could ever compare with the wash of red ooze which laid in a thick, fermenting layer about the Mountain.
In the beginning, the assigned armed detail attempted to rush me to a room, to keep me out of harm's way; they formed a tightly packed group around me, lifting shields which I guessed to weigh about twenty five-to-fifty pounds each, to the sky. This created a make-shift roof so that the 'flying demons' as the public took to calling them, couldn't get to me. Though, this only worked for a sparse amount of time; the flying demons (for lack of a better name) quickly adapted to the new environment of the scrambling inhabitants, as well as the brisk-to-arms draftees and fought against them with an almost unimaginable ferocity, which could have only been concocted by way of chemical evolution.
The flying demons, which, from a distance, actually looked like monkeys with wings, began picking up the detail by way of their shields, and throwing them with all of their might against the wall of the Mountain, crushing their skulls upon impact.
So, we come to the conclusion that these things are most certainly not monkeys with wings!
The men and women protecting me, witnessing this feat of strength and terror, let their shields free when they found their feet hovering above ground. But hitting the ground running is nearly impossible in clunky armor as we wore, so they would stumble, or, even fall to the ground and find themselves backed into a corner. Often, as I saw when we ran, they would dispatch the demons with the swipe of a sword and anxiously sprint to rejoin the group.
I ran as fast as my feet could take me as sweat poured off of my forehead, we weren't ready for this! The demons were everywhere, and poured in from all angles! Soon, my little group was surrounded from every turn, except downwards (but that wasn't an option, so we were stuck). Shakily, I drew my sword, which felt as if it was half my weight, and held it out before me, careful not to nick any of those protecting me. Screams and shrieks of delight from the demons filled the air where their bodies did not; their wings looked to be those of a oversized bat, the skin looked to be over stretched and tight like a drum, but if one was to touch it, it appeared to be silky and almost opaque. Their wings came in all colors and sizes, most usually their wings sprouted from their backs, blood dried about where the skin was broken.
Most flying demons were only two or three inches above my height, their bodies were those of the prisoners the shape-shifters captured, that being so and said, most were stocky men who, in all honesty, were those I didn't want to deal with. Their bodies were dirtied and covered in some type of brown muck that smelled of putrid fecal material, rancid food, and festering infections within decaying corpses. The mere emanation of the stench was enough to cause some of my weaker soldiers to double over and vomit onto their own armor-that, unfortunately, is how they died; the flying demons would decapitate my soldiers with their fingernails.
Their fingernails!
The flying demons' eyes could not be seen in most cases, because the surrounding bit of the outward eye was so pitch, and their eyes were even darker than that, that it appeared that they did not have eyes at all! Only devoid sockets of unfeeling conscience. Their teeth had been sharpened into points, so it was easier for them to rip and tear at their victims. Their feet were those of a hawk's, their talons long and sharp as a knife's.
I was so struck in processing what horrible beasts these people had been turned into, that I did not realize that a war, the worst that could've been conjured up, was still in full rage about me! It was only when I found my feet hovering above the ground that I was yanked back into reality. As we rose high above the fighting, I found myself groping at my sword, which I swung wildly, encouraged by the agonizing screams given off by the one that held me tight, digging it's talons deep into my shoulders-causing a scream to rip from my vocal chords.
A bubble of white rage grew inside my chest, shooting waves of hot anger through my extremeities; I even found myself gnashing my teeth as the need for blood dripping down my throat became insatiable; I could practically taste the sickly sweet liquid falling to my face! With one hand, I reached up as much as I could, and sunk my nails, which were stronger than ever, into the demon's torso, placing my sword back into it's holster, I did the same with my other hand; laughing as the thing howled in unimaginable pain.
Laughing ever harder as I tore flesh from bone in its body, its life substance began to fall, mercifully, onto my face and ultimately, into my open mouth. The thing was plummeting towards the ground, its wings only working enough to ease the landing; it let me free when we touched ground, and I wasted no time.
It was still alive when each of my hands took a side of where I previously tore its torso, and with all my might, I ripped its skin away, grinning as it floundered beneath me, far too much in agony to even make a noise. After clearing myself a considerably big work space, and laying the flapping skin upon the ground, I dipped my nails into the body and began yanking out organs, carefully laying the intestines beside me-I had an idea for them.
Finally, I tossed my head into the rib cage, snapping its bones like toothpicks against my face and bringing out its slowly beating heart within my teeth; I bit into it like it was an apple and sucked all of the blood I could from it out. However, most of the blood remained on my cheeks and organ tissue was caught within my teeth. Still, I managed to get at least a few big gulps from the heart, which ceased its beating within my jaws.
Spitting the heart from my lips, I observed that a trail of blood and blood splatter, covered my newly polished armor. What a pity.
Lifting the cold intestines which I'd set to the side for a specialpurpose, I hurried behind a demon which attacked a man who laid upon his back, his expression that of terror and the acceptance of permanent death. Smiling, I wrapped the ends of the whitening intestines around my knuckles and held it taut, throwing it around the demon's neck and ripping it backwards in one swift motion; my legs encased themselves around its chest and I, without hesitation, unraveled the intestines from my knuckles and bound it round the demon's neck, gripping both ends with blood caked hands and yanking on it as hard as I could-keeping stable power upon it.
The demon reached back to claw me, as I have done numerous times, however, it assumed I was taller than what I am, and found it's fingers hooking on my fangs. With content, I chomped down on its fingers, making squeaks and groans of struggled breathing and torment escape between lips which were being colored violet. Within that chomp, I'd snapped its fingers in half; skin, bones, everything. This caused blood to flood into my mouth. Quickly, I allowed his limp halves of fingers out of my mouth, but the nubs of what was left, remained against my lips where I sucked the blood out-like a vacuum. His hand did not drop because the demon was deceased, and its joints seized and locked just before death, which was a bonus for me.
After a moment, I laid my head back and its blood, from the nubs, drippled down onto my chin and cheeks, eventually making its way into my hair. With a contented sigh I shoved the demon off of me and looked to the soldier, who still laid upon his back, his expression now mortified. "What?" I snarled, before he scrambled to his feet and lifted his sword up, shaking his head with purpose before turning to face another demon.
***The demons continuously poured inside the Mountain, but just as they would pour in, they would die; the 20,000 troops my Vampire had left me were the most vicious of them all-I liked that. They soiled no opportunity to be completely and outwardly perverted in the mutilation of the flying demons-I liked that too. Most took the signal to be as extreme in their debauched contortions as they could, from my own actions and the gluttonous martyrdom which I imposed upon those who found it willing to fight me.
With these 20,000 troops I could've taken the world over. Alas, for the sake of Vampire Mountain and carefully constructed alliances, that thought had to be shoved from the trenches of my imagination.
I'd save it for later.
I knew the leader of the Shape Shifters would not be present in the fight, for that would be extremely stupid had he been. Though, he sent a few of his generals, which, due to the over excitement of my troops, I did not get the complete joy of dispatching myself.
Within hours, the death toll among the flying demons was in the thousands, and only a few stood against us (not for long) and yet my death toll was only within the hundreds.
Six hours of fighting before every single flying demon that stood against us was either annihilated or flew back in a hasty retreat to the base of the Shape Shifters. Their death toll, in a statistical count by several creatures within and outside of the Mountain amounted to 60,000.
My death toll? 200.
I had only lost 200 of my 20,000 armed men and women (and other creatures who didn't confirm to a specific gender).
***We gathered the bodies of the dead, some were unidentifiable, and their bodies were burned, as was customary after a war. Their ashes (which had little red flecks in them) were given to their families, but if no family could be located, their ashes were left in a custom shrine within a room which reminded me of a church-near the Emperor's ashes.
Dirty, bloody, and smelling of disgust, my troops began cleaning the Mountain or attending the service for their fallen friends. I sat, half of my armor missing, and the half that remained was covered in blood, upon the Emperor's throne. Blood caked upon my hair and it was most thick around my lips and upon my cheeks; hell, my teeth were stained red and caught within them and upon them were pieces of organs, skin, and god knows what else; my nails were in the same condition.
Laughter resonated near me, capturing my attention, and who do I see? None other then Dustin standing off to my side-equally as bloody and battered as I. "Dustin!" I cried, standing from the throne and embracing him in one of the stinkiest hugs I've ever given. "I didn't think I'd see you here!"
"Same fer' you littl' darlin'!" He cried, more of his teeth were missing, and an eye patch covered his right eye; most of his skin was visible, but appeared darker than normal, due to dried blood. My legs felt weak beneath me and I fell back into the throne, smiling. I'd never mutilated that many...things, in such a short amount of time-it was really quite exhausting. "Though, ya did look a littl' frightenin' when ya was fightin', Imma tell ya that!" Boomed he, his laughter filling the space once more.
"Really? How so?" Asked I, more than a little flabbergasted; I knew what I did was enough for nightmares, but for myself to look frightening-to Dustin-that was enough to floor me! He was a seasoned war veteran and has killed more than his fair share of creatures; he's probably seen things which were unimaginable to my feeble mind's eye, and yet he found me frightening?
"Darlin', ya cain't explain away fright; thoug'...wha' really sceered me was-" Dustin pointed to his eyes. "I ain't neva' seen none which wer' quite so red! Tha' coupled wit' all th' blood n' guts hangin' down ya chin-stuff 'a nightmares, girly. Stuff 'a nightmares." He explained, rolling a cigarette and taking a drag of it as it sat limply between his lips; then it became even harder to understand his already thick accent. "Yer Vampy betta' watch his ass n' not piss ya' off!"
"Eh, I won't hurt him...bad." Replied I, coaxing thunderous laughter from him. "I've sent him a message," I began, ceasing his laughter. "And told him of the battle-not completely in explicit detail, I'll save that for the press-and as far as I know he's on his way back with the troops. His correspondence said that they arrived to an empty meeting place, they were ambushed, but they didn't lose any soldiers; because they were ambushed by only 300 demons." I explained before looking to one of the guards which stood beside the throne. "Can I get a coffee?" My question was met with a nod, and wordlessly, the guard left to fetch me my drink.
Dustin looked me up and down before breaking the cigarette from his lips. "Ya gonna change, darlin'?"
"What for? He's going to need a bath and so do I-might as well take it at the same time." I answered with a wink to him, making a smile spread across his cheeks, and the smoke from the cigarette to leave his mouth.
***All of the afternoon Dustin and I spoke before soldiers of all sizes, shapes, genders and species mad their way up to the throne and thanked me-especially the one who I saved first; the sheepish one, who I strangled the flying demon for. He had a certain accent which felt familiar, and his face...why, I'd seen his face before! "Fenrier?" Asked I, in the middle of his adoration statement, and a smile grew across his face until it touched both of his ears.
"Yes, your Imperial Highness." He replied breathlessly, his eyes almost seemed to grow glossy as he looked to me, he sat upon one knee before me, as was customary before an Emperor-or, in this case, an Empress. Standing from my throne, this caused Fenrier to stand as well, and I embraced him in one of the biggest hugs I'd ever given-my head just propping upon his shoulder. My eyes drifted to a close, as a feather falls to the ground, and I sighed, a blob of emotion forming within the pit of my stomach.
"I never thought I would see you again, Fenrier." I whispered, never wavering in my hug; for some reason unbeknownst to me, I felt drawn to Fenrier, it could be because he saved my undead life, or it could be because he was one of the only people to show me love at that particular time in my life. Against my will, Fenrier broke from my grasp and fell back down to his knees, taking a soft grasp of my hand and kissing it, down my knuckles and fingers as well.
"I did not lick it this time, your Imperial Highness!" He laughed, the same sweetly dopey smile covering his face than when I first met him. His eyes were soft and icy, and nearly everything about him was the same, save the sheer amount of blood which coated him. There were two large slits in the back of his armor where his wings sprouted from, and there was also one for his feathery tail. My eyes glassed over at this and I threw my arms around him once more-god I missed him! However, upon thinking back at how the Vampire reacted around Fenrier, my content was instantly drained from me and I shook my head.
"You have to leave, Fenrier. If the Vamp-the Emperor-sees you communicating with me, he'll order your execution-or, he'll do it himself!"
"Why? I am not harming you-am I?" He asked, more concerned about me than about the Vampire's rage.
"Because...the Emperor becomes very jealous, very quickly. He already has a distaste for you, Fenrier, and I daresay if he sees you again.."
"Do not worry, your Imperial Highness, if all else does fail I will fly away." He explained, however, I had a growing feeling of impending dread within my gut. Fenrier paused for a moment, obviously thinking. "Jealous? The Emperor is jealous of...me?"
"No-well...he's jealous of any handsome male speaking with me, you see, Fenrier, the Emperor and I are in a strange...untitled relationship, and he-"
"Romantic relationship?" Asked Fenrier, the disappointment becoming extremely evident on his features, to this I nodded, and his happiness, which he was always so riddled with-finally left him. "O-Oh..."
"Oh, Fenrier, please-there's a woman out there for you who is perfect fo-" I attempted to say, but Fenrier shook his head, a tear catching upon his waterline.
"Do not say that. Not all hope is lost. I believe that with my whole heart." He replied before pressing another kiss to my hand and standing to his full height before me, backing away slowly. As he walked away he yelled:
"Not all hope is lost!"