AN: Hellllloooo lovelies! I've missed you all so much! I'm so sorry for the long wait. Here is the next chapter!
~Please note that this chapter is the end of ACT 1, but it is NOT the end of the story.
Suton: Twilight; the approach of death or the end of something
It smelled like metal; like copper or iron, like the twisted metal of the car crash. It infiltrated my olfactory senses, creeping in until it was pungent, overpowering. It was the first of my senses that came back to me. It immediately sent images of the car crash, of the moment right before Godric found me and saved me. The rage, the hatred, the taste of vengeance so powerful on my tongue it was all I had been. Only, the feeling felt muted now; like it existed across a glass wall, and I could feel a strange mixture of heat and cold through the glass, but it couldn't affect me.
With that realization, my other senses slowly started to return. The next was taste. I could feel the coating of blood on my tongue. Then, hearing; it was faint, but I could hear weeping, shrieking, and the distant sound of sirens-another similarity to the night of the crash. Finally, the blackness around my vision faded and I could see the world around me.
It was a horror show more terrifying than I could have ever imagined. The large surrounding room of the Pulse nightclub was painted in blood and guts. It was all over the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. They were murdered vampires, I could already tell. Around the room, humans huddled under tables, booths, or anywhere with any cover. They hugged each other and cried, eyes squeezed shut in horror.
It was in the center of this room of terror, that I found myself standing. There were globs of dead vampire exploded right at my feet, some of the blood and guts having splattered across the front of my clothes and getting into my hair. As I peered down at my blood covered form, I took in the sight of my hands.
They were that same color and the look of dark rot, perfectly healthy skin and bone otherwise. A tremor began to build starting in my shoulders, and I raised my hand to pull back one of my sleeves. The darkness crawled up my arm, the dark rot turning into veiny streaks starting at mid-forearm. A check of the other arm showed that it was the same. I pulled down the shoulder of my shirt, and a small, horrified gasp escaped against my will. The dark veins streaked upwards past them.
The shaking in my body became worse, but it was unlike the seizure I had at Fangtasia; this was insidious, caused by the fear of what had happened. Of what I fear I had done. With trembling fingers I pulled my phone out of my pocket. I had twenty-two missed calls, five voicemails, and sixteen text messages. Most of them were from Eric, but I had three missed calls from Godric and a voicemail. I ignored the missed calls and texts, checking the time to find it was already past dawn.
I wouldn't be able to get ahold of Eric or Godric now. I needed to get out. No doubt, those sirens were the police finally getting news of what has happened here. Of what I was certain I'd done.
If it weren't the pit of despair in my gut that gave away, it was the snippets of memories flashed across my mind every time I thought about. It was the screams and pleas of the vampires as I ripped them apart, turned them into corpses and shattered their bodies into goo.
I swallowed heavily, moving sluggishly towards the back door. Whatever I had done had worn me out. My body felt heavy, like my limbs were filled with sand. I finally reached the backdoor and hurried out, sinking further back into the alley. My hands were shaking uncontrollably, but I pressed the dial on the number. As I expected, I got his answering machine.
"Godric," His name came out as a sob. I clutched my chest, trying to keep the wracking pain from taking over. "I-I...I did something bad. I didn't mean to, I don't know how or why this is happening." Another sob, breathy and loud and destined to get me caught if I kept it up. "I didn't mean to do it. I know you don't b-believe me, but I died, and I didn't come back right. I know it, because why else…" I cut off, the wracking in my chest too heavy to talk through. There were a few seconds of desperate sobs that I couldn't work through. I focused on my breathing, trying to take in deep breaths of oxygen. Tears slid heavily down my cheeks. "It doesn't matter now. The vampire's will never let me get away with what I've done. They're going to kill me."
I took a steadying breath, reaching upwards to wipe away the tears clouding my vision. Another sob broke loose, and I took in a few more deep breaths. "I'm going to run while there's daylight. Try to get away as long as I can. Don't look for me. Don't have Eric look for me. They'll kill you too, for helping me." My lips trembled, but I somehow managed to say the last words. "I love you, Godric." I ended the call and set my phone on the ground. I smashed it beneath my foot until it was cracked and thoroughly destroyed. Then I crouched and sifted through the pieces until I found the sims card, and I stuffed it in my pocket.
I put up a glamour around me, the spell strong enough to let me walk right out in front of the dozen police cars out front of the club without being seen. I hurried to the nearest clothing store, using the glamour to grab a stack of new clothes, and then I walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I moved to the sink, looking myself over in the cheap, slightly blurry mirror. I was spattered in my blood and guts. The black veins extended halfway up my neck, but they seemed to be receding slowly.
I turned on the sink, reaching over and grabbing a pile of paper towels and began to wipe myself down as best as I could. My clothes were ruined, and so I threw them in the trash. I wiped down as best as I could, the trash can filled to the brim with bloodied paper towels. My hair was unfortunate; sticky with blood and guts. I stuck my head under the sink and washed it as best as I could.
When I was satisfied with my cleanliness, I put on the new clothes; a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, socks, and a pair of tennis shoes since mine were beyond repair. They got thrown in the trash too. I ripped the tags off of the clothes and shoes and walked back out into the department store. I walked right out without concern and looked for the nearest bus stop. I found it a few blocks over. I waited about ten minutes for the next bus, the driver a gruff older gentleman who didn't seem particularly thrilled with his job.
"Where does this bus go?" I asked lowly. The bus driver seemed to look me over and come to the conclusion that I was one of those runaway homeless kids. He grunted, but his eyes had softened ever so slightly.
"This bus goes uptown, and ends at the south bus station." I nodded, stepping on the bus and moving to grab money out of my (still slightly bloodstained) purse. The bus driver held up a hand, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it, kid. Just take a seat." He motioned his head towards the back of the bus. I smiled weakly, and thanked him quickly, taking a seat at the back of the bus.
The bus remained mostly empty for the entire ride. The bus arrived at the south Dallas bus station in an hour. I headed to the front desk, where a portly woman sat, typing away at the computer.
"Do you guys have any buses that go to Corpus Christi?" I asked softly. The woman looked down at me, eyes doing a quick scan over me. Unlike the bus driver, she didn't seem particularly sympathetic.
"Not today. Closest we got is to San Antonio. There's a bus that you can catch from there to Corpus Christi." I nodded, reaching for my wallet.
"How much?" I asked.
"One-way?" She asked. I nodded. "Eighty bucks." I froze, stopping to look up at her and glare. She looked back, unflinching.
"Anything cheaper," I asked through gritted teeth.
"A bus to Waco for forty."
"Fine." I smacked two twenties on the desk. She snatched them up, tapping away on her computer again and then handing me a bus ticket. I hurried outside, the bus going to Waco already waiting outside and mostly full. I stepped up onto the bus, handing my ticket over to the driver and then turning to look for a seat. Most of the seats were filled, and so I took a seat next to an old woman knitting an intricate scarf. She eyed me, gave a small smile, and then returned to her knitting.
The ride to Waco wasn't actually that long, but it felt like it lasted six hours. The bus was hot and stuffy, and halfway through the elderly woman fell asleep on my shoulder. When we arrived in Waco, I was the first person off of the bus. I sat down at the nearest bus stop, and opened my wallet. I wasn't sure how much money I had left. When I counted, I had another twenty dollars left. I had my card, but I couldn't use that. I was already going to have the vampires on my trail, I didn't need the police to find me too.
I sighed and crossed my legs, closing my eyes and focusing on the power inside of me. After what I did, it had felt weak. I'd been able to cast a glamour charm, but I'd not been able to cast another one after it faded. If I was going to get to Corpus Christi, I needed more magic. My magic wasn't as easy to call on as it had been before, but I could feel a glimmer of it that hadn't been there before. I sighed in relief and held the twenty-dollar bill out in front of me. With a quick glamour on the bill, it was a hundred rather than twenty.
I stood and headed into the office, and ordered a ticket to Corpus Christi.
The Newlin residence in Corpus Christi hadn't been visited in years, not since I was nine. The Beach house was cleaned every so often, but it had clearly been a while. There was a fine layer of dust over the furniture, and a spray of dust rained down when I turned on the ceiling fan. I coughed, waving away the dust and took a good look around.
Not much had changed. The same old, outdated furniture. The same old creaking floors and walls. The beautiful artwork on the walls, usually something depicted from the bible. At the center of the large living room, a large image of Jesus sat on the center wall. It was a picture depicting him on the cross.
Even as a kid, I found it a bit weird for a center piece of artwork in the living room. Now I had to wonder if Jesus actually liked his final, painful moments being glorified. I studied the picture, glancing over the two other men on the crosses next to him. My eyes stung, and I reached up to slap my cheeks to fight away the tears.
I had another two hours before the sun went down. To keep myself busy, I started to clean up. First, I cleaned up the living room and kitchen, and then I cleaned up one of the bedrooms upstairs. There wasn't any internet or technology in the beach house, but there was a small library. As the sun was setting out the window, I skimmed my fingers over the books, a fine layer of dust coating my fingertips. My finger landed on 'Dante's Inferno', and I pulled the book out. I read nearly every book in this beach house, and Dante's inferno was no different.
The couch was comfortable as I settled into it, Dante's Inferno seated on my lap. I yawned, opening the book and beginning to read.
The only name for the place surrounding me was hell; it had to be. For miles and miles on end, it was a wasteland of nothing. Just gray, cracked earth where nothing grew and no animals roamed. The sky was a few shades lighter than the earth, and it seemed to blend into the earth in the distance. No clouds, no sun, no moon, just a dim light radiating across the sky and giving the land a look of eternal sunset, lacking the colors and beauty.
The only noticeable landmark was a large, broken down gate. It was reminiscent of the golden gates leading to heaven depicted in art, but the gold was tarnished and blackened, cracked in places, the tops and bottoms of the gate all sharpened to dead points that could pierce with a mere touch.
One door was off its hinges, leaning against the other door to keep it upright.
Hell. Definitely Hell.
She should not have fallen asleep reading Dante's Inferno.
"You did thirst for blood, and with blood I fill you," I shrieked at the sound, whipping around violently, causing me to stagger to the side. I looked up, eyes wide. It was… a shadow. A shadow figure like the others but different. Where the others were barely humanoid, this one had a distinct figure. It was small, standing only about four feet tall. I couldn't be sure, but it appears to have long hair and a thin figure. The voice, disembodied, was still somehow girlish. It didn't have eyes, but I knew it was watching me.
Somehow, I knew what it was talking about.
I shook my head. "Not like that. I didn't want that," I told it firmly. The shadow flickered, and seemed to gain color in shades of grays, features becoming more pronounced. It had the shadows of eyes, a nose, lips, but no details. It cocked its head to the side at my words.
"It is necessity and not pleasure that compels us," It's voice was clearer too; more childlike, less disembodied. Another quote from Inferno.
"This is just a dream," I breathed out in relief. I gave a small laugh, rubbing the skin under my eyes. "Thank God,"
I yelped, as I blinked and when I opened my eyes the shadow was only a foot in front of me. "We are no dream, thief. We are the servants of Styx, of the divine doomed and destiny. You have crossed into our world of death and left with life. There is no greater offense than to steal what does not belong to you."
I eyed the shadow carefully. Was this a dream? I couldn't tell anymore. It certainly felt like one, but the words being said to me… this shadow felt real.
"I didn't steal anything," I told the shadow firmly. I could feel it staring me down, thinking over my words carefully.
"Your hold on life is weak, it beckons us. Soon we will see if you are worthy of the power you have stolen." Power? What? I shook my head, moving to turn away from the shadow and hopefully wake up. It stood behind me, looking exactly the same as before, only it's eyes glowed ice blue.
"Do not be afraid; our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift." The shadow reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder.
I shot up with a shriek, reaching to grab hold of my shoulder. It's touch had felt like icicles stabbing into my skin and spreading down into my fingers. I panted, holding my shoulder and reminding myself that it was only a dream. Just a dream.
What was that smell? I glanced up, sniffing in. It smelled like...smoke? I turned my head to the stairway. Smoke was filling up the hallway, drifting down the stairs. My eyes widened and I threw my book on the ground and hurried to my feet, heading upstairs. I coughed, opening up doors and closing them just as quickly. When I reached the second to last room, I opened the door and almost immediately staggered backward in shock. The room was ablaze. Completely covered in flames.
Shit.
"Deflammo," I coughed out, pulling up my shirt to cover my mouth as I said the spell.
It did nothing. I tried twice more before I realized it was too big of a fire to be put out by such a spell, and I had no idea what else I could do. Magic was barely a kernel inside of me, and I didn't know of any other spell that would work on something this big. I slammed the door shut and hurried back downstairs. I grabbed the few things I had off of the sofa and opened the front door, rushing outside.
Cold night air calmed the heat on my skin, but it did nothing to relieve my panic.
Nan Flanagan. I moved to turn and run back inside the house. Burning was better than what the vampires would do to me.
In a blur of color, my arms were restrained by two large vampires wearing dark suits. They forced me to turn back around and face Nan. She stood on the sidewalk, hands clasped in front of her. She was stone-faced, but I thought I could see a slight quirk of her lip, as if she might be enjoying this.
"I knew you would be trouble," She clucked out disapprovingly. She took two long strides across the lawn to meet me.
"Adole-" A hand covered my mouth before I could finish speaking. Nan raised a brow, unimpressed.
"Yes, we've heard of your magic tricks." She looked to the vampire on my left and gave a nod of her head. I looked up at him fearfully, watched as he took out a rag and bottle of clear liquid. Chloroform. I screamed, the sound muffled by the hand covering my mouth. I yanked back and forth, trying in vain to escape.
I fought and screamed until a rag replaced the hand over my mouth. I held my breath and tried not to breathe, but I already knew it was too late. As I unwittingly took in a deep gasp of air, I could feel the chloroform taking effect almost instantly, my eyes lowering and the world began to spin. All fight left my body as I slumped down, taking in another breath of the chloroform.
"Get her in the car. She'll be brought before the Magister tonight,"
The rag was removed from my face, my body leaving the group. I couldn't see, but I could feel myself placed onto the cold leather of the car interior. I fluttered my eyes, trying to keep awake, but feeling myself drawn deeper and deeper into unconsciousness with every second.
I thought for certain I would pass out entirely, but instead I drifted in and out of consciousness, unable to move or speak but somewhat aware of the car moving and voices speaking.
In an indeterminate amount of time, I slowly regained control of my body and consciousness. I tried not to twitch or move too quickly, intent to keep quiet until I had full control over my body and voice.
And then the car came to a halt. It was jarring enough that I fell off of the leather seat and onto the floor of the car. I groaned, moving to get up instinctually. The door on my side opened and arms wrapped around my upper arms and pulled me up and out of the vehicle. Sluggishly, I fought against their hold.
"Let go…" I muttered, fear helping me to regain cognizance, but not enough. Not against vampires. Not enough to feel the magic inside of me and let it out. My feet dragged against gravel, my arms aching from the way I was held up. I stumbled, trying to get my feet underneath me to walk, but unable to do so with the quick pace of the vampires. My vision was still blurred, but I could see movement, people in shapes and colors as they moved about. I could see a night sky, high above the rest, and a junkyard, of cars I think. I wasn't certain.
And I could hear. Growling and hissing, shouts of curses and insults hurled at me. They knew who I was and what I had done. And they were going to kill me for it.
Unceremoniously, I was thrown to the ground. I landed with a thud, my hands barely able to reach in front of me and take the brunt of the fall. The growling, hissing, and insults got louder and louder, becoming deafening. It surrounded me, enveloped me, held me hostage. Slowly, sluggishly, I moved up to cover my ears.
"Silence!" I winced at the loud, male voice that screeched out above the others. That single word brought the entire yard to a halt, the only sound was an uneasy shuffling of feet and bodies. When silence reigned, the voice spoke again. "The criminal and their crimes," He ordered dismissively.
"Before you, Magister is Danielle Newlin. Not only was she a member of the hate group the Fellowship of the Sun, but yesterday night she murdered twenty-two vampires, one of which was Jared Knightly, an old vampire who was being considered for a territory in Texas." It was a female voice this time, cold and unfeeling. I shivered, grabbing hold of the gravel and trying to push myself up off of the ground.
More cursing and hissing shot out around the crowd, but the magister must've done something, for it stopped a moment later.
"Would someone like to explain how a human girl killed twenty-two vampires?" The magister drawled.
"Magister," Fuck. I knew that feminine, sultry voice. It was stuck in my head like an annoying television ad you couldn't get out of your head. Sophie-Anne. Queen of Louisiana. I was so screwed. My only hope was that if Sophie-Anne could get here on time, perhaps so could Eric or even Godric.
Please Godric…
"Speak, Queen Sophie-Anne,"
"That girl is a witch. The security guards at my establishment saw her power firsthand. Furthermore, there was a disturbing report from a known witch establishment in Shreveport where the girl worked. From what my source said, the girl made three vampires vomit blood and meet the true death," Sophie-Anne spoke pleasantly as if she was getting a manicure and not signing my death certificate.
I began to hyperventilate. This isn't happening, it couldn't be. I didn't survive everything I survived to die now. Not like this. I needed to see Godric again, to give him hell for leaving and tell him how much I missed him, and that I didn't feel real without him. That nothing felt real when he wasn't with me. I needed to tell him that I was a stupid girl, ignorant and naive and selfish, but that I wanted and needed him more than I've ever wanted or needed anything in my life. I needed to do better. I needed to be better. I needed...I needed…
I needed to live.
"Please," I croaked out, tears falling unbidden from my eyes. I didn't have the ability to feel ashamed of them. "Please, I didn't mean to do it. It was an accident. I don't know where this power came from," I fell into sobs, unable to hold them back as fear, true fear for my life, settled into my bones.
There was silence.
And then a loud scoff. "You think we care what you meant or didn't mean to do?" The Magister retorted coldly. "You, a weak human, killed almost two dozen of our kind in one night. For that, there is no other penalty but swift death." The crowd cheered and whooped in joy. I felt sick. Nausea overwhelmed me, bile building in the back of my throat. My hands shook as I pushed myself up and got to my knees. I looked up at the Magister, but he remained blurry as my vision refused to right itself.
"Please," I whispered, tears running down my cheeks.
"You can't kill her!" A voice, another voice I knew, shouted. It gave me hope. I glanced around rapidly, searching through my watery gaze for Eric. He would save me, he wouldn't let them kill me. He was more powerful than all of them, he had to be, he was over a thousand years old. He'd kill them all and I would be safe. I almost gave a sigh of relief. There, standing behind me and quickly approaching, was the scary Viking. I had never been happier to see him. Before he could reach me, three vampires from the crowd shot out, grabbing hold of his arms. He whipped them around, colliding them together and throwing them to the ground. Three more came from the crowd and grabbed hold of them, and then four more, and then five. Together, they kept him hostage.
"You kill her and Godric will destroy you all!" He screamed out, fighting and tugging against those holding him back, searching for a way out of the trap of their arms. I looked back to the magister, hope still keeping steady in my chest. The vampires feared Godric-they called him death.
"The Gaul isn't here right now," The Magister drawled. "So why am I to believe he cares for this runt?" He spat, glaring down at me. And just like that, hope sank and withered away. The magister didn't care. The other vampires weren't scared. They wanted me dead more than they feared the possibility of Godric hunting them down and giving them the true death.
How had things gotten here? How had I reached this point? I didn't want this.
Shakily, I got to my feet. Every part of me trembled, but I held myself up with pure willpower. I stared up at the Magister, upon his throne of old, broken cars. Tears still made rivers down my cheeks, but I refused to beg. I wouldn't go out like that. I clenched my fists at my side and steeled my courage.
I held the Magister's gaze. The entire clearing was silent except for the sounds of Eric's struggling. "He will rip you apart limb by limb, and when he is done there won't even be enough of you left for the vultures to make a meal out of you." I wish I could say my voice was stronger than it was. I wish I could say that it didn't shake, making the words almost beyond comprehension. But I knew with one look at the magister's face, that he'd understood what I said.
The Magister sneered down at me, flicking his fingers towards two vampires standing off to the side of him. "I doubt death would make an appearance for you. You're nothing," The words hurt.
But not as much as the bullet that tore through my back.
The air rang, tinnitus almost muffling out the sound of Eric's scream of rage, of the cheers of the crowd as they basked in my death. I could feel it, as the bullet pierced through my spine, my heart, my ribs. I felt it with some detached sense of pain. I would've screamed, if the shock hadn't paralyzed me in place, stopping me even from falling to the ground.
I stared up at the Magister, my vision finally perfectly clear as I took him in. His face, his clothes, the cruel look in his eyes. And the last thing I noticed about him, with the utmost perfect clarity, was a small, wooden cross hanging around his neck.
And then I died.
~The boundaries which divide life from death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? -Edgar Allan Poe~
AN: And there's that...please don't kill me...heh.
I'll answer reviews next update.
Also, if you're curious about the wooden cross, perhaps you should check out chapter fourteen again, in the dream ;) If not, I plan on explaining it next chapter.
Thanks for reading! Much love!