Ok, I did intend to have another Selene/Michael chapter, but then, as I tried writing it, I realized that I had almost forgotten about the Vampires, Lycans, and just about everyone else. So this chapter is focusing on the Vampires. I promise, either the next chapter will be with Michael and Selene.
And I'm very, very, very sorry about the delay. Not only have I been my usual lazy self, but I've had sailing and canoe camp to attend to, so I haven't touched the mouse for a while now..
Oh well, enough with my blathering, and on with the fic! Reviews are at the bottom, as is a one-line preview of the next chapter/its title.
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Underworld, or its characters, but I'll tell you when I do, ok?
Chapter 2: Counting the Dead
"Not.. Too.. Far now.." The words echoed through the labyrinth of the lycan sewers, tracing back to a wheezing, battle-worn young death dealer, his right hand outstretched before him, his left cradling his midsection, preventing slippery entrails from spilling out on to the already blood-stained sewer.
Through the stench of blood, gore, mold and excrement, he could feel a trickle of air – nothing more than a faint wisp, but enough to hint that perhaps an exit to this foul pit was near.
The sorry vampire had been attacked by a lycan a good 3 times his size, who managed to tear a nice large hole in him, before a fellow Death Dealer stopped the bastard in his tracks with a few rounds of silver-plated ammunition.
He had been wandering for hours, using whatever strength he had left to make it back to Ordoghaz. He was one of the only surviving vampires from the attack on the lycan den, his fate fairer than most of his vampiric companions, their bodies left to rot in the filth of a thousand rats.
He preferred not to think of them as decaying corpses, as he side-stepped the mangled remains of his former captain, Kahn.
Good lord! The beasts tear their victims apart! Like animals!
He was indeed quite inexperienced in the art of war, and had never really seen a lycan in person. These last few hours of hell had been the biggest wake-up call of his immortal life.
Suddenly, the youthful vampire was on his back, having slipped on the excess blood leaking out of Kahns decimated corpse.
This sudden movement had his blood clots re-opening, his own lifeblood spilling out into the night, mingling with that of his fallen comrades.
Fuck! He cursed, as he once more scooped up his innards, wincing as he placed them carefully within the horizontal slash across his abdomen.
As he began slowly inserting his bowels back into his body, he paused, fascinated at the way the tendons in his hand rippled beneath pale skin, illuminated by moonlight shining through cracks in the ceiling.
Soon he was almost childishly absorbed in flexing his fingers, then stopped abruptly as he envisioned the foul yellowing teeth of a lycan remorselessly tearing them apart.
He shook his head in disdain, focusing once more on carefully slipping his intestines back through the messy slit. Pain shot through his side as he proceeded, but he suppressed a gasp, knowing that if his insides stayed out of his dying form, they would dry out, surely killing him.
After 10 painstaking minutes of cautiously inserting his gut bit by bit, he got up with slow and deliberate movements, intent on causing the least pain possible as he righted himself, up, away from the gore.
Now all I have to do is haul myself out of this hellhole.. He thought, taking small, limping steps as he focused on the clear goal he had set for himself.
Panic. Madness. Chaos. Just some of the words that described the state of Ordoghaz.
Three death dealers had arrived, a few hours after the garish events in the Underworld, two in fairly good shape, the other slung between them, his face a bloody mess.
Later that night, after the wounded had been taken care of, and the two others given the opportunity to clean up, they were both taken to the dojo for debriefing.
The information cultivated was shocking. Only three of the 30-some vampires on the raid had returned, and though they were sure that more would turn up in the next week or two, they dared not send a search party down into the lycan sewers to find them all.
Amelia and Viktor, dead? The thoughts of Amelia's protégé spun blindly in his head, sending a wave of nausea to his stomach as he pictured his mistress, and Viktor, the strongest vampire in existence, slaughtered, their blood leaking freely out of their decimated bodies.
But that wasn't nearly as frightening as the shocking knowledge that Kraven, Viktors protégé, had plotted the downfall of Amelia, and that Selene, who was the daughter Viktor never had, had supposedly sliced his head clean off, which his own sword no less.. And according to the returning Death Dealers, to save a lycan.
Wasn't she the one single-mindedly devoted to their removal from the face of the Earth?
Then, as he was about to further question the events of that night, a maidservant burst in, rather hysterically recounting a tale that neither Dmitri nor the surviving pair could discern or follow.
"Slow down my dear!" Dmitri finally broke in, his voice as soothing and calm as he could get it, considering his current situation.
"Hush... What is your name?" He consoled, determined to get a straight answer out of the panicked girl.
"D-Dominique.. M-My name is.. Dominique." She managed to choke out, after several moments of stuttering indistinctly.
"Alright, Dominique, explain to me with as much clarity as you posses, what happened?" He prodded, uncertain as to what might have scared the poor newly-turned into such a state.
She nodded, then spoke, "A-A.. A monster! In the Crypt!
"Yes.." Dmitri motion for her to continue, knowing that if what the maidservant said was true, then he would be in for a whole lot more problems than he bargained for.
"V-Very tall.." She shuddered as she spoke, her already deathly pale face drained from all its color.
'A-And it was.. A-A dark b-b-blue, and silver.."
"Yes, go on..." His fears of a lycan having snuck into Ordoghaz were unrealized, but this thing she was describing led him to another question. If not a lycan, then what!
"It h-had b-blonde hair.. A-And a n-normal face, but claws.. O-on each finger. It was wearing black trousers.. Nothing else.. When it saw me.. It let out a roar.. It had many sharp teeth.. Like a dog."
Ahh! Freedom! At last! The first thoughts that popped into the last Elder Marcus's mind.
A surge of renewed strength aided him greatly as he tore apart the interlocking hatches and pipes that separated him from his first breath in over 200 years.
Only after the echoes of razor sharp claws against metal faded, did Marcus realize that he had just torn through his own tomb, and only then did he realize he was not alone..
The torn body of what must have been.. Yes, a lycan, his nose told him. But wait, what was this.. He could trace the scent of that lycan – who was most definitely male, old, middle-rank, and far too scrawny to b- What?! He knew every last detail about this dog! From his German decent, all the way down to the fact that he had been killed by Viktor himself! What? Viktor? That bloody bastard was awake?!
He even knew that the mongrel had been dragged in by a very angry female Death Dealer, who smelt suspiciously of lycan, and that he had been turned by Lucian, shortly before Lucian was killed.
As the Elder attempted to comprehend his surroundings, a jolt of pain hit him like a speeding train. Clutching his head as if it were to split open, images flashed before his eyes.
Relief filled him once more as a wounded lycan was brought into the lab, a nasty gash across his abdomen dribbled out thick, black blood. The Death Dealers sword must have pierced his liver..
With the excitement of a child receiving a new toy, he swooped down on his wounded pack mate, examination tools in hand.
As he probed about the jagged puncture wound, he confirmed with interest that it was indeed a silver sword that had pierced the skin of this poor newly turned. Recently, scouts were returning with oozing, inflamed wounds, reportedly stinging more than any normal cut should. It had worried them all that perhaps the vampires had begun to forge their swords from silver.
If this was indeed the case, then his kind would have bigger problems to face..
As Marcus came to, he realized that these were not the normal images that accompanied awakening from the blood of a vampire. As he was about to come to a conclusion, another wave of nausea hit him.
Lucian would not be happy.. They had been searching so long for Abram Kassanov.. When they finally found him, Lucian expected results after so many miserable failures.
Yet another innocent dragged into this war. And certainly not the last. A very promising new subject had been found, and to Singes delight, he was not only the closest link to Corvinus himself they had managed to find, but he was related on both sides..
His grandparents had moved from Budapest to America in the 40's, carrying along with them the bloodlines of Alexander Corvinus..
Some years later, they bore a single son, who was to marry Marianne Thatcher, strangely enough, who was yet another Corvinus descendant.
Their progeny, the young intern they had spotted lurking around Budapests central hospital, was Michael Corvin.
As Singe stared aimlessly at the black liquid, lost in thought, a dark figure burst into the room, an intense look of cold anticipation dominating his features, a golden pendant resting on his chest.
"And what about this one?" He asked, eyes alight with morbid curiosity.
"Another failure.." Singe responded morosely, shaking his head as he drained the useless blood in the labs sink.
Lucian wasn't exactly pleased to hear this.
His face contorting into sheer rage, he marched up to the limp figure of Abram Kassanov, and put a fist right through him. With a twisting motion, he disemboweled the poor man. Lucian exited the room with an expression of pure, undiluted fury, leaving poor Singe to clean up the mess..
As Marcus strained to comprehend all this, it finally hit him.
WHAAAT?!?! LUCIAN?! ALIVE?
This made no sense, Viktor, awake before him, a Death Dealer who smelt of live, newly-turned lycan, Lucian, alive? And definitely the strangest of all - he knew this from a simple whiff of the room.
There was something seriously wrong with this century.
Then, as the last surviving Vampire Elder hoisted himself out of the remnants of his tomb, a whole new wave of scents collided with his nose.
Another Death Dealer.. Mason, he believed.. Had arrived earlier, smelling suspiciously of..
By the Elders! This can't be! The scent of Amelias sweet blood was traced faintly on the floor, alongside that of Mason. His boots had trod all over her precious blood!
"This can't be.." He thought aloud.. "Two Elders awake at once.. Amelia.. Dead." He nearly collapsed as the sheer enormity of his situation hit him.
Then.. As if Fate was determined to do away with him then and there, he noticed the odd, silvery royal-blue sheen of his skin.. And his claw-tipped fingers.
As a sinking feeling filled his age-old stomach, he pulled himself from the wreckage, and ran to the sliding doors.
His form, reflected in the glass, once fit and well maintained, was now beyond fit, and in perfect condition.. Not to mention – he was blue. Royal, almost purple blue, with an iridescent silver sheen to it.. His hair had remained blonde, but dog-like black claws tipped his fingers.
He backed away slowly, at first, then as he turned to run, hoping beyond all hope that this was some grotesque nightmare. Then he slipped on the slick black blood of the deceased lycan, sending him sprawling on the floor of the Crypt.
That was it.. Viktor had killed this lycan, and it was not the blood of a fellow kinsman that awakened me, but that of a filthy dog!
As he quickly lifted himself off the cold crypt floor, a single thought coursed through his mind.
"Abomination.." He whispered, his voice barely audible, even to his own ears. He had become everything the Council had tried to prevent for the past millennia.
And to think, he had gone to sleep hoping that when he woke up, the world would be a better place.. Even then he doubted that greatly, but never did he think it would be like this..
His dismal thoughts were interrupted, as a young maidservant appeared at the door, her gaze directed at the floor, having not yet seen Marcus.
A sudden growl escaped his throat, a primordial reflex to a lesser being entering his domain uninvited.
Before Marcus could apologize to the poor, frightened girl, she had whipped her head up, and upon viewing his monstrous form, fled screaming.
Suddenly, he realized that surely the Coven would not accept such monstrosity, and would never allow him to live, last Elder or not.
If they found him like this, there was no doubt in his mind that he would be dead.
Next up, in A Hastened Departure, Michael regains control of himself, and Selene attempts to get them to Zagreb before dawn.
Oookay.. Here are the replies to the reviews I have so far received.
TearsOfAngels-xx/Rooney23 - Thanks, and yep, it's my first fic, not my first story, but certainly my longest.
Priscilla – Nyahaa! My first review! Well, I did.. Even though I hate cliffhangers myself, I decided the best way to conclude chapter 1 was to leave it at a rather pathetic cliffhanger..
You don't like how they're treating each other? =D Well, that'll change, over time.. You have to understand what they've been through.. Michael would definitely be much warmer to her – if she'd let him..
She's spent the last 127 years of her 149-year old life focusing on extinguishing the race that supposedly massacred her family, then all-of-a-sudden, her habitual existence of sleep; eat; train; kill is shattered, causing her to kill the one living being she actually cared about, all for someone she'd known for less than two days.
That would shake up just about any normal being – Vampire, Lycan, or Human..
She refuses to admit any emotions towards him, being a schooled warrior and such. Plus, she's felt very little beyond hate, anger, and loathing for a very long time. Anything else just plain scares her.
She'd riddle herself with UV bullets and willingly toss herself into broad daylight before acknowledging it though.. =D