Chapter Thirty Eight
Arra didn't wait for the dust to set as she desperately dug for Vancha, her breath caught in her throat as she struggled with the heavier rocks and ceiling debris.
"Vancha? Vancha? Vancha?" she repeated over and over again, her bloody cheeks streaked with mournful tears as she spied the ripped remains of Prince Vancha March's cape, stained with his blood. She tore it from under the rubble, burying her face into the dirty red fabric as terrible, heartfelt sobs shook through her entire body.
The hall was alive with the Resistance, struggling to free their aching bodies from the caved in walls and roof. Moonlight glared down upon the desperate scene, a huge chunk of the mountain now missing. Arra walked through the mess, tears in her eyes as she physically shook. Not every Resistance member had been injured, some had narrowly missed the explosions whilst the others clearly had the luck of the vampire Gods on their side. Still, the majority were wounded, some too hurt to dig themselves free and so relied on the surviving vampires and vampaneze to aid them.
When their eyes saw Vancha's tattered cape in the defeated Vampiress' clasp their hope died.
Gannen was gone.
Larten was gone.
Vancha was gone.
The three men the Resistance needed had all perished so what hope did the others have?
Kurda made an appearance, having taken shelter with his men. He looked down at the distressed Resistance and growled to his army, "Take them all to the Hall of Lords." His voice was gruff but all that was required to crush his former allies as the Vampaneze arrested each and every one of the survivors.
"Are you okay?" Someone asked Arra, worry in his tone. Arra looked up, a metal helmet concealing his face from her as his arms were twisted behind his back. Arra was curious as to why he wore a helmet when he faced imminent death. That said many of the Vampaneze Resistance had worn helmets so that their old friends could not distinguish them in battle.
She nodded wordlessly, clenching Vancha's cape tightly.
The masked man nodded at the cloak, "Vancha's?"
"Aye," Arra croaked, fear gripping her as she, too, was led off, forced to leave Vancha's clock behind as she was marched with the fifty other survivors.
In the Hall of Lords…
Darren had tears in his eyes as he watched the Resistance pour into the hall, their heads bowed as the Vampaneze held spears to their sides to prevent acting out. Of course, they never did. They were defeated.
"Arra," Darren cried, holding the battered Vampiress tightly as she was forced to sit beside him, thankful to have her by his side once more. His arm ached from being restrained after Steve detonated the bomb, he'd been weeping ever since; not from pain but from lost. The fifty standing Resistance members looked equally as rough. When he couldn't find Vancha, Darren's heart sunk further and fresh tears poured down his cheeks.
"Gavner got stabbed," he whispered to Arra, voice croaking, "He led the workers out but…but the wound's fatal. He told me to tell you he loves you," Arra's zombie like expression worried Darren; her face was a blank canvas. "He said," Darren sniffed, "They'll be watching over you."
Arra's face was still dull, as though she had hit an all-time low and thus could not sink lower into depression. "Vancha perished," was her response, "He-"
"Silence!" Steve roared, standing at the front of the Hall, arms outstretched as his men cheered in awe; they'd won. "Now, since our workforce has escaped I am tempted to put you all to the Ghettos to slave away till you die but we as a Nation need to look at the consequences that would lead to- the most probable being a second revolution! No one wants that," he grinned wickedly, laughing manically for a brief moment, "For that reason you will all be executed, tonight."
The hall didn't respond, only accepted their fate much to Steve's annoyance; he wanted controversy.
Kurda took over, the traitor looking battle beaten despite the fact that he had spent most of the fight in the safety of four burly guards. He glared out upon the Resistance, feeling both guilty and angry; they had been his friends but they had also invaded his home and tried to fulfil Tiny's prophecy, thus leading to his beheading.
"Do you have anything you would like to add?" he asked emotionlessly, detaching himself from what was about to be done. Steve clasped Kurda's shoulder, smirking as he eagerly stared out upon the faces of the doomed Resistance.
No one stirred immediately. There seemed to be no heroic words; all had succumbed to their fate.
Someone stood in the middle row.
All eyes turned to him, Arra frowning; the Helmet man seemed to have something to say. Awkwardly he climbed over the other Resistance members till he was in the aisle, staring forward. "I have something I would like to say."
Steve grinned, gesturing him forward, "Come closer, my masked fellow. What do you want to say to your people?"
The man turned and faced the curious Resistance, Darren's eyes boring through the visor to try and catch a glimpse of the man's eyes. Of course he couldn't see who was addressing them, nor did he care. All he had left in this world was Arra and, judging by how broken she was, he doubted he would have her for as long as he hoped.
"Your head will roll, Kurda," the man growled suddenly. He hadn't moved, just stood proudly, almost, before the Lords.
Steve looked at the masked man and laughed cruelly, "Is this some sort of a joke?" he pointed at the lone man, his maddened cackle echoing through the whole hall, ringing in Arra's ears as she squeezed her eyes tightly. She couldn't cope with more death anymore. The masked man turned around to the depleted Resistance, Darren watching him as he draped an arm over Arra's shoulders protectively.
"I do not have to tell you things are bad; surely by now everyone knows this. Our enemies are bigger than us, greater than us and more stable than us. The world is a hard and scary place and we, as a nation, were too proud to take notice of it," The man shouted passionately upon the masses, the Lord's shifting behind him uneasily.
"Stand down," Steve growled though the man ignored him and continued on.
"We must put aside our petty differences and come together as Partisans to a common cause and not Vampaneze and Vampire. When we rise and when we fall, when we sink and when we swim we must now do this as a unit and not as two different races," the shouted, "I see the same fear in yours eyes as I feel gnawing my own heart. We are not inferior. We can still fight our way back from this." The man rallied, his voice growing more and more assertive as he went on. He took in a deep breath then began to literally shout at the Resistance, "I am as mad as Hell and I will not stand for this anymore. I choose to fight them till my blood spills on the earth and stone of my Mountain! I choose to rise free than fall suppressed! I choose life and not death!" a hand ripped the helmet from the rioter, the tin mask being thrown to the floor in a passionate sweep.
The entire hall gasped in utter shock, confronted by a matted crop of blazing orange hair, a set of burning, maddened eyes and a scar which had become iconic to those of the Resistance who fought for freedom.
Darren could feel Arra tighten her grasp on his arm, her expression just as awe-inspired as his.
"Crepsley!" Steve spat, grabbing his sword and making towards the King as all the vampaneze did, their weapons expanded to kill the elusive King as his wild orange mane fell back over his neck, angling his face to the ceiling as he let out the single most aggressive wolf howl.
The Vampaneze seemed slightly shocked of his animalistic outcry but continued onwards until they heard a second howl, not coming from Larten.
The large oak doors of the Hall of Lords broke open as Mother nature herself seemed to charge into the Hall; wolves, boars, deer, raptors, snakes, squirrels, spiders, the entire animal life of the mountain seemed to have collaborated forces, despite going against Darwin, and attacking the purple skinned vampaneze instantly.
At the fore front of the entourage padded Larch, the tiger carrying in his mouth the King's sword, amazing the Resistance as Larten swung effortlessly upon the blazing orange beast's shoulders and charged towards Kurda.
"Resistance, Fight!" one of Gannen's men ordered as suddenly a new power emerged within the Resistance, a sort of second wind befalling them as the grabbed whatever they could to use as a weapon and fought back once more.
Darren was amazed when he heard gunshots and spied Fane expertly firing a riffle on horseback as his mare kicked out at the Vampaneze curs that strayed too close. Other human men he had arrived with were doing the same, shooting down the dirty playing vampaneze in a death that suited them perfectly. A sudden scuttling sound could be heard as millions of spider legs climbed down from the roof, Darren instantly spying Madam Octa; the biggest of the arachnids. Octa…
That must have been how Mr Crepsley had directed the animals, Darren decided, laughing at the sly old dog his mentor was and lunged into the fray.
Steve seemed to have disappeared completely from the battle scene otherwise Larten would have gone for him. In his absence Kurda was the next best thing.
The blonde vampire's head snapped around and a horror stricken expression washed over him as Larch's heavy paws pounded upon his chest, knocking him to the floor. The tiger's jaws snapped viciously above Kurda's face, the traitor wincing at the foul smell of meat.
"L-L-L-L-L-Larten," Kurda started before he was cut off by Larch hissing, saliva spraying from the beast's mouth.
Larten climbed off of Larch's back, his sword firmly in his hand as his eyes blazed down upon Kurda, still held under the weight of his orange haired brethren.
"I am going to make good on my promise," Larten spat, the apex of the sword rested firmly on Kurda's throat. The traitor didn't bother fighting him; Tiny had been right about everything, why not this?
"Make it quick," Kurda growled, staring death in the face as Larten's arms pulled back.
"I will but you do not deserve a swift death, you bastard. Your body shall be drawn and quartered. I will personally emasculate you," Larten sneered wickedly, "You will be disembowelled and your bodily parts will be split up across the entire world. You will not get to Paradise. You do not deserve it; you treacherous bastard."
"You're starting to sound like Steve," Kurda laughed, shaking his head, "Just do it already."
"Do not think I will not," Larten snarled, hesitating to make the killing.
"Larten, I would rather you killed me than being sent to the Stakes. Please," Kurda smiled, tears in his eyes as he looked up at the Vampire King, "Do it."
Larten squeezed his eyes closed, fighting his own tears as his mind travelled…
"I really cannot take it anymore, Kurda," a young Larten groaned, crashing on Kurda's sofa, shaking his head as he squeezed the bridge of his nose. "I am not sure I want to complete the General studies. I do not think being a General is what I want in life."
Kurda sighed, leaning against his coffin, "You really haven't been yourself lately. What's really bothering you?"
Larten's face fell and he looked away.
For a long length of time he was silent, his expression unreadable then, suddenly, Kurda could see his jaw begin to quake, the vampire's lips thinning into a small line. A shaky hand stretched up and covered his face, "I miss Wester," he croaked, Kurda leaping from his coffin and kneeling beside Larten.
Kurda squeezed his shoulder tightly, "It's okay to miss someone," he soothed, "No one's expecting you to be okay. He was a son to Seba, a brother to you."
"I just miss him so much," Larten's voice went high and flat, leaning over and burying his face in Kurda's shoulder.
"I know," Kurda sniffed, Larten's devastation bringing him to tears. It was rare Larten would show this much emotion and Kurda felt honoured that he was comfortable to be held and mothered by him as he wept loudly for his dead brother…
"Larten, look at me," Kurda growled, his eyes firmly boring into the hesitant vampire, "I'm going to die anyway. I would rather it was by your doing."
Larten's tears were flowing freely now as he pulled the sword back, "I am sorry Kurda,"
"Don't be," Kurda smiled.
Larten dropped his arms.
The sword plummeted down.
A horrible noise echoed through the hall.
Larch bowed his head; blood gushing from Kurda's decapitated torso and staining his paws. He turned and leapt back into the fight, leaving Larten to gaze sickly at the blonde matted hair of his former friend. He threw his sword to the floor and turned sharply. Arra hadn't moved from where he had last seen her.
"Arra," he croaked, smiling as he steped off the platform and walked towards her, throwing his arms tight around her shoulders as he buried his face into her neck.
"I thought you were dead!" Arra sobbed, squeezing him tightly, not letting go, "I thought I'd lost you!"
"I am so sorry," Larten smiled thinly, kissing her neck over and over again as he repeated the same words.
Around them the battle was winding down, the last few standing vampaneze being over whelmed by animals and Resistance alike. Seeing that the battle was at a close, Darren suddenly remembered the workers and Gavner. With no time to waste on a sappy reunion, Darren raced over to the smiling couple, grabbing Larten's arm and tugging him from a heartfelt kiss.
"Gavner got stabbed," he said, looking up at Arra then back to his mentor.
I'm such a bad person; I've written the final chapter before the second final :L So I'm hoping only two more chapters till I can officially check this story as completed! So excited.
I'mm keep this note short in a build up to the big long one I'll no doubt post but atm my writting's sluggish and I'm really tired ):
Night Night all!
Preston (: