Dissolution of Arms

By Eerie

Chapter Fifteen: Captors and Captives

The branches of the trees seemed to multiply impossibly in the dense woods as D urged his reluctant mount onward. Their sharp ends became like bony fingers attempting to halt the hunter from progressing, pulling insistently against his mantle and threatening the smoothness of his face. The horse neighed in hesitation and halted to prance in the midst of the overwhelming vegetation.

"Come on, D. Turn us around already. We're never getting through this mess and it's been over a week since we started this pointless search," the parasite said irritably.

But the vampire hunter only withdrew his immense sword and began to hack the branches away. He was furious at himself for failing to foresee Caruwyn's departure. Of course the child would have been crushed by his refusal. But what was he supposed to have done at the time? The glistening pain in those young ruby eyes was a stab in the gut as he invoked their memory. D cursed himself. But he wasn't sure if it was his regret for hurting the child or the creeping feeling that he had just let his doom in by the front door that caused him the most distress.

"Why are you so worked up? If the kid goes, he goes. Good riddance." The entity watched D's arm violently lash the hindrances, a great sigh escaping its mouth. It didn't truly believe its own words, for it had also grown somewhat attached to the charming young dhampire. Though it once might have felt strongly against the bond that its master and the youth had formed, it now wondered if such a thing was a necessary change for the vampire hunter. D had lived for countless centuries in a state that would drive most humans to off themselves. And it knew that D would never listen to such advice, for it could feel the turmoil within its master's mind. It was like witnessing a corpse coming back to life and the parasite couldn't help but feel some sympathy for its lonely host.

D continued his labors but the branches only seemed to grow thicker beyond each inch that he cleared. The horse grew restless and pranced more madly as it tossed its head, hoping that its owner would hurry and turn around. But the hunter's arm kept swinging.

"And what if this is the wrong way?" the parasite ventured. "I mean, how are we supposed to find him when he could have gone damn near anywhere?"

For an odd moment the air bore an icy breeze and the black sky deepened further into shadow. The dhampire stopped his task momentarily to study the treetops, suddenly sensing eyes upon him. His lids squinted against the dull starlight as he searched for the presence. From what he could see, only the frail leaves and branches that stretched toward the sky carried any life or movement as they swayed erratically in the cold wind. His sword hand tensed.

With some unseen signal, the silent birds sleeping in the heavy boughs stirred and voiced their surprise as they bolted from their nest in a single dark cloud of fluttering wings. D's eyes followed their path before sliding into the opposite direction. Something moved behind him.

A great dark bird with massive wings suddenly soared up from the tree he had split apart and hovered high in the air. It appeared like a gigantic hawk out for its evening hunt at first, but no chase was given to the smaller beasts that could not possibly out fly it. Instead it rounded a great circle before descending lower and straightening. From its new position, D could see that it was no ordinary bird. The creature cackled.

"So sorry, dhampi-i-re. But my forest does not want your kind within, I fe-e-e-el. I'm afraid you'll have to take your little friend's appe-e-e-eal." Its voice was high-pitched and musical; the way a bird's would sound and behave if one could speak.

The creature's great full wings folded and it plummeted down as if it were intent on crashing into the ground. But they unfurled with a great rush of air as the feet belonging to them found hold on a thick branch just in front of the hunter. It hunched forward like a predator.

D stared at the thing levelly, waiting for it to speak again. He could see it very faintly in the weak light, but its outline betrayed its wiry human-like form beneath amber-glowing eyes. Its skin was bare but the feathers from its wings spread down its sides before disappearing into a sexless groin. The thing crouched down and clutched its perch, revealing a very sharp set of talons on either hand. D poised his sword.

"Would you take the first strike against me-e-e-e? As you've done to my defenseless tree-e-e-e? Truly your honor prevents such hypocrisy-y-y-y. Or is that the way of Hunter De-e-e-e?"

The dhampire started at the sound of his name. The creature's talons scraped slowly as they flexed, preparing for flight. The shredding sound was like glass against stone.

"How do you know me?" D asked in a low voice.

The bird creature answered with a piercing series of screeches from its narrow throat as it thrust its head back. D remained perfectly still, cautious.

"You may not know me-e-e-e, but you've met my family, Hunter De-e-e-e. And they will not-no not be happy if it is you they do se-e-e-e. And so I've come-yes I've come, to end your journe-e-e-ey."

The talons clenched and left deep jagged burrows in their wake as the bird creature lifted itself with a great flap of its musty wings. It rose slowly, laughing in obscene musicality.

"I have no wish to harm you, so tell me who it was that sent you," D said.

It twirled playfully with its arms outspread. "Only the Barbarois, my fair boy. And you cannot, no you cannot damper our joy when we've only just received our toy," it warbled. Amber eyes sparkled with glee as it dived low.

D lunged down low to the side just in time to miss its first deadly attack. It was too late to counter with his own blow; he would have to wait for the thing to swoop again. The trees were too dense around him to jump. They even seemed to have closed in from the path he had entered from. He turned to face the hovering mongrel, strengthening his guard.

"What are you talking about?" the hunter called.

"Oh friends, refuse his amends for he so-yes he so wickedly pretends. Assist me with the means to his ends!"

The trees snapped their vines to life from all directions at once before D could realize what was happening. They twisted harshly about his wrists like tightly woven ropes and caused his sword to fall to the ground. D pulled with all his strength against them but could hardly budge his outstretched arms. Two more pairs of vines crashed down from either side and wrapped cruelly around the trapped horse's legs. The creature screamed its protest as D was lifted away from its back. The vines suspended him, wrapping tighter with every struggle. He tried to summon the parasite's assistance but it was conveniently faced away from the spell.

The bird creature dove down and captured the fallen blade, swinging it about as it screeched its laughter and leered at the captured dhampire.

"Time to sleep, fair prince. Later, perhaps, that answer will evince."

The mongrel whistled with childlike mirth and toyed with the weapon as the trees found their hold around the hunter's neck and squeezed with bruising force. Only when the air was stolen from his lungs and the light faded from his eyes did the vines ease their grip.

D awoke to the steady patter of dripping followed by the resounding evidence of the place's emptiness. His eyes swam with dizziness as he opened them, immediately inducing pain in his head. He quickly brought his hands to his throat to rip away the force that strangled him, but found that it was no longer holding him. The skin there burned with proof that it had indeed occurred. Realizing that he was lying on his side, D pushed himself up and swaggered. He stumbled forward a few steps and caught cold steel. Bars.

Before he allowed himself the knowledge of his surroundings, D groped his body for his sword. His clothes and pendant remained intact, but his weapon and cape were gone. The freezing bars were taken into his hands again as he peered though them.

It appeared like a dungeon beyond, and certainly underground from the dank musty smell that clung heavily to the air. A battered sconce holding a horn-shaped torch burned dimly on the opposite wall beside a rusty iron-slabbed door. The walls and floor were of slate-colored stone, uneven, as though they were laid in haste or had been in existence for centuries. A small tarnished tray with a thin fluted chalice sat just outside the boundary of his cell, reflecting the golden light of the flame.

D crouched to inspect it, though quite tempted to swallow the contents immediately to ease his harsh thirst. It only paused for a second beneath his nose before the vessel was flung against the far wall, splattering its contents as it crashed to the ground. D watched in disgust as the crimson liquid trickled between the cracks and seeped into a dusty pool on the floor. Though he had discarded it as quickly as he could, the scent still lingered in his memory, teasing his thirst further. D scowled. The blood had even been spiced.

The dhampire rounded to study his prison. Against the back wall rested a simple cot over which lay his cloak. He took it up briskly and fastened it back in place before sitting with resignation on the measly structure. His hands ran over his throat again. The wounds were not healing as quickly as they should have been and he felt decidedly weak. He would need sustenance soon. His eyes roved the wall smattered with blood.

The hunter played the fleeting scene in the forest over in his head to distract himself. That bizarre creature said the Barbarois had sent it. But why? He had never held an alliance with the dark beings, but neither had they been enemies. And how had it found him? Surely there could not have been a hunt for his capture in the more recent past. The whole situation was disorienting.

"Did you see anything else? Anything strange?" D asked the parasite quietly. But the thing did not reply and he could barely sense its presence.

The hunter turned his left hand around and furrowed his brow when he learned that the creature was deep in slumber. Yet it was a forced sleep; the parasite had only a shred of energy keeping it alive at all. D attempted to rouse it, but it was no avail; he too was weak and feeling anything but himself. The idea of deep sleep sounded marvelous at the moment, though he was not prepared to let his guard down in this strange, unfriendly place. He would have to figure out a solution to his dilemma on his own.

Suddenly footsteps echoed beyond the door. The dhampire stood and folded his arms over his chest, placing his indifferent mask carefully over his features as he awaited his jailor. The sound of leaden keys thumped against the door and the lock clicked with an echo before the door creaked open excruciatingly slow. A black-shod foot entered first, followed by a tall body swathed in a dark cloak with a drawn hood. D stared at the head of the figure but he could not see its face beneath the layers of material. The door clicked shut behind the stranger. Though its eyes were hidden, D felt their scrutiny upon him. But he stood firmly and waited.

After a moment the intruder moved, revealing a set of long pale arms with equally graceful fingers tipped with sharp nails that rose to lift the hood away. The dhampire watched as it fell back and exposed a handsome, cream-skinned face adorned with jet-black hair pulled back into a high ponytail on the man's head. The man's eyes rested on his and D was startled at their glittering darkness. The dark man smiled to reveal a pair of short fangs.

D refused to allow his face to contort in confusion, for despite his appearance, the man was not a pureblooded vampire. The torch flame continued to burn golden. But there was that familiar air around him, though D could not sense a trace of human blood that would temper it.

The dark man approached the bars and smiled even wider with feigned politeness. His head turned to take in the sight of the blood on the wall before turning back to regard D.

"Not to your liking? I'm a bit surprised that the son of the famed Vampire Lord would find the grade unsuitable. It was quite virgin, I assure you," the tall man said.

"Who are you?" the hunter ordered.

The man's face lit up as if flattered. "Manx. Most honored to meet you, Majesty." He bowed with deliberate exaggeration.

"What do you want with me?" D asked, feeling his anger rise.

"Well, to be precise, what I want with you is irrelevant. You're here ultimately by my master's orders." The black-haired man gave D a frightening smirk.

"And who would that be?" the dhampire pressed, uncomfortable with the depth of the eyes that reprimanded and sucked him in.

"In time. He will strike the bargain for your freedom himself, as was his desire. But until that time comes, you'll be under my care."

"Are you of the Barbarois?" D asked.

Manx turned his back. "Not exactly, though we do have common interests." The door groaned again as it opened and he stopped for a moment. Turning back to D he said, "Oh yes, your meals will be brought once a night. I advise you to take them if you wish to recover your and your companion's strength."

The door closed and locked behind the dark man as his sinister laughter filled the space. D glared after him, gritting his teeth. He sank back down on the cot and pressed his back against the wall as he folded his arms again. Slipping his eyes shut, D thought fiercely. The man had claimed to be separate from the Barbarois. Yet he served some unseen "master". Perhaps the Barbarois were hired to protect whoever this person was. They did have their weakness for money as much as anyone else. Yet there seemed to be something cryptic lodged in the bird creature's ridiculous words. The more he thought about it, the stranger it became, and the more tired it made him feel.

D ushered himself into a trance to clear his mind, but it wasn't long before he fell asleep against the hard stone wall.

The sound of the door's lock sliding back with a click roused the hunter from his uneasy slumber. The torchlight burned just as steadily as when he had first become aware of his surroundings, and he could not tell for certain how much time had elapsed. The heavy door creaked ajar but he ducked his head so that his large-brimmed hat would conceal his eyes. He soon heard a tray's light metallic tap as it touched the floor followed by the rustle of garments. A long moment passed and the prison guard had still not left.

"I know you're awake, Hunter."

D did not move. "What of it?"

Manx grinned and clasped the bars. "Oh, nothing in particular. I just wanted to see your gorgeous eyes glare at me with hatred."

"Where is this master of yours? I wish to speak to him," the hunter said indifferently from beneath his hat.

"Impatient are we? I'm afraid that he is terribly busy and cannot see you until a later time. But there is other business to attend to for now." Manx stepped through the bars as if they were made of air.

The hunter started when he felt a chill hand slip beneath his chin. He had not heard the man step inside his cell, nor were the bars moved in any way. Manx must have seen a brief glimmer of shock in his eyes for he was smiling with pure amusement. D clamped a hand around the imposing one's wrist and squeezed with all his force. But Manx was completely unfazed. D narrowed his eyes.

"Ah, there it is. You're beautiful when you're seething with hate." Manx suddenly reversed D's grip with his own and held firm as he forced his mouth over the hunter's.

D drew back with disgust but the wall blocked his escape. Manx's mouth was uncomfortably cold and enormously unwelcome. But the more he tried to resist, the more tired he became. He could feel his energy flowing slowly from his body, tingling like aftertaste on his tongue as it transferred to his oppressor. But Manx released him sooner than he had expected. D's head fell slack to his chest, his neck taut and sore.

"The little one wasn't very good, but you are quite the opposite," Manx said and walked gingerly from the cell. Before he left the cramped room he said, "Give and take, dhampire. Please revive yourself before I suck you dry . . . and because you're so good I might just do that one of these days. But if I were you, I would not look forward to such a finale." Manx chuckled darkly and sealed the door with a bang behind him.

D's eyes lifted to fall on the chalice left for him in the same place as before. He closed them again and turned his face away, knowing full well what its contents were. And it was then that a frightening thought entered his mind. Immortal though he was by nature, and the need for nourishment could be put off for long periods of time, he was not completely unsusceptible to the threat of death. If Manx continued to take his energy in that manner . . . he would certainly perish.

The chalice seemed to glow like a sort of grail as it reflected the candlelight. D shuddered violently, suddenly wishing the parasite were conscious. He wished for anything but what he was faced with. Confinement did not suit him well, to say the least. Still the vessel beckoned him. D's fangs slowly and painfully began to emerge as thoughts of blood filled his mind. It took every scrap of his will to pull himself away from the thought and concentrate on sleep. But he doubted it would be simple to attain.

If his strength were to be sapped little by little, would it be a painful death? D wondered. His entire life's oath was now hanging by a bare thread. Centuries of abstaining from blood. The one keeping him captive surely must have known this, and was using it quite skillfully against him. If he drank the blood from an unknown victim, no doubt human, he would be no different than those cursed beings that he hunted. Yet if he didn't drink it he would surely die. The two fates rested in a fragile balance, swaying up and down.

D pondered death more deeply. He had done so many, many times before. The more he dwelled on the subject, the more he favored that particular option, for he would not become the thing he hated most if he had any say. But a resisting force pulled from the opposite side. A force that pierced him with agony when he recognized it, a force that made his heart feel devastatingly human.

Visions of his pleading mother holding out the bleeding organ returned to D's memory, and the murky mystery veiling the terrible dreams dissolved. It was his own heart she was pleading for him to recognize; the dream that would foretell of a presence that would steal it from him. The emotion he believed long dead for centuries had been revived and he finally saw it all too clearly, if only too late. Yet with it came some semblance of hope from the messiah who carried it with mystery, grace, and innocence. It was Caruwyn's face that he saw in those last few moments before his body caved into the bitterness of a dreamless sleep in that cold isolated cell.

To be continued . . .