Chapter 14

Time was running out. Not only were they low on ammo, but the creature appeared to be oblivious to nine millimeter gunfire. It was definitely toying with them, taking its sweet time getting in close.

Shit, it's gonna kill us if it gets any closer, and damn, I need some more friggin fire power!

It wasn't until then that Sam noticed Drake's aim was getting poorer by the second. She estimated she had about twelve shots left, including a partial clip she saved in her pocket. Cliff started backing away, no longer firing; he must've just run out, she thought.

The monster suddenly rushed, charging at Drake first. With a tremendous back-hand smack, he went flying several feet away from the other two, the monster closing its distance between its prey. Its empty eyes turned to Sam, and she could feel the true ominous dread of death surrounding her, that impending surge overwhelming her, taking hold of her trembling limbs.

"Hey! Over here, Powder!"

It was Cliff shouting to the beast, distracting it from its gaze. It began taking slow strides toward Cliff, repairing its minor abrasions all the while. Broken out of her shock, Sam desperately surveyed the area for anything she could use, simultaneously realizing that the gunfire nearby had ceased, and that the thundering footsteps were becoming faster and much more intense. She could hear the terrifying sounds of its metal-like nails sliding across the stone wall.

"Goddamn it, he won't last long by himself . . ."

After straying not too far from where the monster was "hunting", Sam came across a body, one of an agent, apparently. It was a most depressing sign, yet, for the moment, it hardly mattered. There was a magnum near his hand, the gun sitting there like assistance from God. She knew smack about guns, but she could at least tell the gun was a semi-automatic, not one of those Colt Python revolver magnums. She didn't know, couldn't even tell if it was loaded, but it was her only hope. Again, she heard the monster charging. Soon after, there was a strangled gasp from somewhere nearby.

"Cliff!"

Shouting out to him was a bit too late, the teenage boy falling against the wall, a line of blood streaked across his slightly scraggy chest. His head was down against his chest, making it hard to tell if it was a deathblow. But the monster was starting toward her with great thunderous leaps, not caring if Cliff was alive or not. Sam took aim and blasted away, the first shot taking a chunk of its jaw out, even reaching parts of its neck. The second hit it straight in the chest, below its sternum. The creature was slowed from the sheer force of the massive blast. However, Sam gasped, suddenly shaking even more as the creature's wounds began to heal at an unnatural rate, like from a sci-fi flick.

"This can't be happening, no!"

She took one last surveillance of the area, then jolted; Cliff was out and Drake had been nowhere in sight. With the brute at least halted, Sam rushed down the hallway, passing the rotting corpse of the agent, and eventually hitting a stairway leading up. The creature was tearing through walls, creating its own path toward her while she struggled door to door. She seemed to enter the main hall, the room as wide and open as a quarter of a football stadium. Pillars were all over the place, decorating the entrance, which was blown right open. More dead bodies were strewn about, their chests all decimated.

BOOM, CRASH!

Just a second after noticing the horror before her, the monster came crashing through, sparing her not a moment to catch her breathe. However, its target was no longer her. It trained its cold eyes on something scurrying behind the pillars. When the "thing" scurried behind a farther stone pillar, Sam took notice; it was a boy. He wasn't that tall, with a small build resembling Cliff. . .

And it's gonna kill him, it's gonna kill the boy! Go!

She began firing again, the shots going high; it was too far for her to take an accurate shot. She needed to get the kid closer to her.

"Hey, over her-,"

She was immediately cut off, several vampire creatures surrounding her completely. They stared at her with beady, wet eyes, dripping with sinewy slime all over. They must have all been fresh from the bodies. There wasn't enough time to fend off the blood-suckers and distract the giant. Quite simply, they were done for.

D R A K E

It took him awhile to even get back up, his head wheeling from the attack and the infection. It would only be a matter of time. He sure as hell wasn't counting on living this long, but it appeared he wasn't going to deal with chest-popping vampires. He had something else wrong with him.

Drake hurried over, his head pounding from the great crashing sounds the monster was making. It was no longer in the same room. Seconds later, he noticed Cliff sitting against the stone wall, his chest all bloodied. He staggered toward the defeated boy and saw there wasn't much of a blood trail for that big a wound; he assumed he was dead already. The poor boy would never get to see his little brother again. Yet, all the same he admired the young man for his courage. Drake was the same, striving for the truth, but now. . .

Drake's moment of reverence was disrupted by a great longing for blood, the thirst so strong, he felt like taking a bite out of the dead boy, as if he were a ripe fruit. Resisting the abominable urge, he paused at the sound of shrieks somewhere close by.

If I don't do something, I'll lose her, too. Sam, if there were any people who deserved to live, it would definitely be you and Cliff . . .

Feeling a strange mixture of emotions, he charged down the torch-lit hallways, taking shortcuts the monster had probably made. Part of him was empowered by his desire to save Sam, another by a morbid need for something else. He jumped over stone debris like they were pebbles, gaining an unnatural stamina that both thrilled him and terrified him at the same time. He felt a need to kill.

S H A W N

Shawn could hear the extremely faint hum of the helicopter Eva described. The thought that it would all be over brought a chill up his spine. However, he made his choice. He decided to take the route leading into the city. He felt a most unusual need to be near Eva at that moment. It made him feel guilty, his thoughts dwelling back to Constance, however, he had a feeling that if he let Eva go, she'd run into more trouble; retrieving anything from those cultists meant certain death. Besides that, he needed to know what she meant about "not going home" in the U.S. What could she possibly mean?

Don't worry, Constance, I'm coming back for you no matter what.

With a horrible twisting knot in his gut, Shawn continued down the unusually safe and quiet forest, the path apparently the one that would lead him into whatever city Eva was heading to. There were several piles of leaves in the way, seeming quite conspicuous in the dirt pathway. Shawn slowed down, not feeling okay about crossing. He took aim with his rifle, making sure the path ahead wasn't an ambush; he knew the myriad numbers those vampire things could take up.

Shawn took a large piece of branch from the ground and brushed some leaves off one of the piles. The branch slipped inside, an audible clanking sound coming from below. From what he could see, there was a cleverly hidden pit with many thin, long stone spikes designed for impaling, a most grueling death. Shivering slightly, he slowly continued, avoiding the majority of the leafy piles around him.

Something screeched and swooped down near his face, causing him to lose balance and fall. He felt the ground sink a bit, and he panicked, falling sideways into what he guessed was one those pits. He hung on the edge with all his might, the muddy border making his fingers slowly slip down.

NO! I won't die here-

With one hand, he took hold of the hook gun on his belt, aiming up while trying to maintain a decent grip with one single hand. He pressed the trigger, the hook finding something to pierce. Shawn let go of the trigger, the grappling mechanism pulling up out of the hole of death. He landed down near a tree, no longer in peril, but several vampires came swooping down, barely disappointed. They screamed out for blood as they dive-bombed toward him. Shawn dropped the rifle and took out his Uzi, loading them and firing as soon as he could. They fell with no problem, their wings too delicate to withstand the many bullets. Yet, the creatures landed as if half expecting it. They raced toward him, nearly crawling on all four. He obliterated the grounded ones with ease, each kill making feel only a little better for the deaths of his agent sacrifices.

Shawn jogged on forward, wary of any slight change in the environment. He reached a part in the path where several trees got in the way. Attached from these trees were what appeared to be barbed wire. He shook his head at their feeble attempts to stop him.

He heard the shouts of several vampire creatures, only they weren't those scrawny, flying vampires or their human-like hosts. They were just as pale, yet they were much more muscular, their faces horribly distorted; their eyes and nostrils were incredibly tiny, their mouth wide with teeth protruding and covering the majority of the face. There were six of them, all holding some kind of axe or knife. The mutants leaped over the barb wire with little effort, startling him into shooting. He began spraying the closest with bullets, each impact punching a ragged hole into its body. By the next seconds, the Uzi had blasted deep into the monster's chest, revealing a mess of stringy arteries and veins that took up most of its grotesque chest.

One of the vampires took a wide swing at him with its knife, nearly slicing off on his right arm. He let out a quick yell of pain, exciting the others into attacking. Shawn back-flipped far enough to sidestep the incoming attack. As he stood back up, managed to swipe back his rifle which he took careful aim with. One single shot and the bullet tore through the nearest's chest, the creature crying out sharply, inhumanely as it fell face down. Letting the rifle go for the time being, he unstrapped his shotgun and targeted the small crowd of fervent vampires, and-

BANG . . . BANG!

The vampire "people" hit the ground faster than the echoing of the blast could stop. Those may have been the result of extended growth or mutation, but they still fell the same way as their counterparts.

Toting his rifle, Shawn carefully crawled beneath the barb wire laced around the nearby trees, continuing down the road, his heart pounding in anticipation of the creatures. They were obviously prepared for his visit.

He lunged forward upon hearing sudden swish sounds. After landing behind a tree he looked behind and noticed the arrows in the ground, head first. Several more came flying at him, all striking the tree's trunk. He took out his sniper rifle, listening for any more sounds. He could hear them in the cover of several shrubs, reloading their bow guns. In response, he quickly stuck out his upper torso, wincing as his bloody arm took the weight of the weapon. His teeth clenched tightly, he took aim and fired once, twice. He heard the heavy thud of something big hitting the ground; one down. He could easily hear the rustling of his hunters' movements. If his senses were correct, they were near his left side. When he turned one of the monsters was even closer than expected.

"Oh, shit!"

He deliberately fell down, the arrow missing him by a miracle. He took aim from the ground, the tall grass making things difficult for him, and struck its leg, the bullet completely obliterating its limb. The creature staggered, allowing a clear shot directly into its chest. At the blast of its chest, the creature's lumbering partner behind had staggered in surprise. PANG, PANG, PSHH! They were all taken out.

"Very interesting," came a voice from somewhere off in the distance. Shawn stood up, his face reddened from his close encounters. A further ways down, a woman stood, two more "attendants" with bow guns at their side guarding her mindlessly. Her clothes and hair were all black, yet beautiful for a monster. Her face was a wonder, her eyes a hypnotic pair of feminine rawness. Her tight sleeveless shirt revealed her pale, slim body, and her skirt portrayed her perfectly smooth legs. She merely stood there, her eyes directly connecting his, making him feel uneasy.

"You've done well . . . human." Her accent was seemed quite foreign, most likely a resident of this country. But by the way she referred him, that no longer mattered.

"Who're you?" Shawn asked, keeping his rifle on automatic mode, targeting her.

"My name is Effeminette. You are Shawn, correct?"

". . ."

"I was told to slaughter you in the name of Vlad. My master says you pose a big threat to Him. You must be exterminated."

". . . Vlad?" Shawn became startled at the name. In the back of his mind, he knew that name. "Wait a minute, are you referring to the Dracula!"

The lady's attendants seemed to stir at the remark, aiming their guns at him with a gurgling growl. Effeminette put one delicate hand up, halting the brain-dead guards. She smiled back Shawn, one he could tell was not out of amusement.

"Hmm, yes. It appeared many humans referred to Him by that title in the past. 'Count Dracula', wasn't it?" She placed one hand beneath her chin, looking lost in thought. "Perhaps you already took notice, but there are a number of us who utilized this gift to its fullest potential. Vlad has mastered that potential. A long time ago, when the gift was at its peak, Vlad dreamed of gathering his scattered brethren together. Even His mild presence united those nearby under his liege. However, it was his son, a non-carrier, who slew him after realizing his infection. But even he succumbed to the numbing pleasure released upon his momentary death."

The woman seemed almost saddened as she spoke. Shawn's hands were quivering with much anticipation, his finger readied at the trigger.

"Luckily, a decade after, Vlad's position was taken over. Alucard, Vlad's son and possibly the inspirer of the wretched 'Dracula' cliche, had become the less mighty clan leader. Today shall be the day of reckoning, when He will rise once more and fulfill his final fantasy; a world united under desire and leadership worthy of being called a race! The paradise among all paradises!"

At the moment, the two guardians opened fire. Shawn, who had anxiously awaited the attack, dove to his left, behind one of the many trees in the area. He took a quick glance at the crazy lady and noticed her attendants had already split up to look for him. Several more of them carrying axes and scourges came from somewhere behind.

"Shit!" he muttered. They must've been waiting for him there, probably expecting this occasion to end up like some kind of a rite or offering to this "Vlad". He wanted to take down the creepy female leader first, but he needed to concentrate on the nearest grunts. It was going to be hell.

S A M A N T H A

There was no way in hell she could take them all out and save the boy on time. The vampires were circling her, as if deciding how to kill her. But she couldn't stop thinking about the kid. Why did the monster go after him? Sam held the gun tightly and fired at the one closest to the stairway. It flew nearly ten feet away, the body decimated. And in that instant, she dashed for the stairs, stopping, turning around to aim at the others who were already hot on her trail. While no longer surrounded, she focused on picking them off one by one. The sounds of stone crashing below echoed in ear as she opened fire, noting her that the boy wouldn't, couldn't last much longer against the monstrous butcher.

Sweat trickled down her face as two more vampires charged at her. Barely needing to aim, the blasts of the magnum tore the bastards apart. However, the dry click of the gun seconds later sent her mind in a state of panic.

I'm out, no not now!

-and suddenly as one of the creatures dove for her blood, something from behind leapt forward, knocking away the thing. She couldn't believe her eyes when she saw Drake fighting back, ripping their sickly pale, thin limbs apart. She past the gruesome scene in an instant and toward where the boy was, not taking into account that she was out of magnum bullets. He was no longer in sight, but the monster was, its head turning to face her.

She backed away, looking behind her as Drake literally brutalized the retreating little shits. And the monster jumped over her, clawing at the ceiling and landing down to face Drake.

"Drake, watch out!" she yelled without knowing if he even could understand her any longer. Apparently, he heard her, turning around and catching the monsters wide swing. The two wrestled for control, somehow equal in power. Drake's eyes shone red, as if he was no longer human. Sam then turned to the spot in which the kid was last. And upon closer inspection, she found a big enough hole where he could've escaped through.

"Upstairs . . ."

She turned around and took notice of the battle, the two evenly matched. She mentally wished that she wouldn't have to come back to see the outcome, then rushed up the stairs in pursuit of the boy.

The halls were a mess, all broken into and in shambles. She wondered how an old, weathered castle could last so long after the damages the monster caused. She then suddenly realized Drake left Cliff alone. Was he . . . dead? Her jog became a sprint, oblivious to the few bodies that had already began to decay. At the end of the hall, where the monster had plunged down to kill them, was the boy . . . and Cliff, still against the wall.

"C-Cliff?" she ran toward the two. The boy had already realized he was dead, the tears streaming down his rosy cheeks.

"Cliff! Cliff, no! You promised!" the boy sobbed. Sam approached him slowly, trying to maintain her own composure.

"He . . . wanted to find you so badly. He tried his best, but he ended up being a real hero anyway . . ."

"Who're you?" the boy asked in a whimpering tone, his voice still childish. He couldn't have been any older than twelve or thirteen. She saw Cliff's face on his, the resemblance very depressing.

"My name is Samantha. We tried escaping together. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be alive right now." Sam tried a smile, the boy's face still not changing. "I know this probably hurts more than anything in the world, but we really need to leave now. Please, it's what your brother wanted all along."

"I'll never let Cliff's death . . . be for nothing," he said in a low tone.

"You're very strong, like your brother. Now let's go."

She took the boy's hand and led him back down the hall. Unfortunately, the only way out would have to be through that room where Drake was at. They'd have to make a run for it and hope for the best. Sam paused, took a deep breath, and knelt down in front of the boy. Choosing the words carefully, she smiled brightly at him.

"Okay, we're going upstairs now. There may be monsters there, but don't worry. I'll be right by your side. We're going to go straight out the front gate. Whatever you do don't look back, alright?"

The boy nodded, his face still red from crying so much. She stood back up and exhaled.

"By the way, sweetie, what's your name?"

"It's Devon," he replied, sounding a little bit more serene.

"Okay, Devon, let's get the hell out of this place."

The two made their way up the stairway, Devon's face appearing more frightened. Sam herself was feeling the adrenaline pump through her once more.

This is it. It'll now be just you and the boy.

With that mental thought biting at her, she accepted the fact and continued. When they reached the enormous hallway, all that remained were broken pillars and chunks of flesh and stringy things Sam couldn't quite recognize. Feeling quite nauseated by the scene and the adrenaline rush, her hazy vision caught view of Drake, laying against the wall.

"Aren't we gonna run?" Devon asked worriedly.

"He's still alive!" She grabbed Devon's hand and ran toward him, her hope for him rising again for some inexplicable reason.

"Wait over here," she told Devon, who was a few feet away from Drake. She walked on toward him, his face sweaty and full of cuts. He was covered in cuts and puncture wounds, yet he did not bleed much. His eyes opened slowly as she drew nearer. They were normal again.

"Drake?" she called out faintly.

"Ah, Sam, you're still alive. I guess my wish came true."

"Drake . . ."

She crouched down next to him, grabbing hold of his hand. They were colder than before.

"Sam, I wanted to tell you and Cliff this many times before, but it seemed I never had the right opportunity to explain it in one shot."

"Explain? What are you saying?"

"Sam, when I first met you, I had already been here for months . . . alone. I needed an immediate story to tell you so your suspicion wouldn't arise. I didn't know who you were. I never had a wife . . . or kid. I'm an agent, from the U.S."

His breathing was still steady, surprisingly. Sam had a faint feeling that he would survive. If it was a good thing or a bad thing, she did not know.

"Ever since a certain moment, the President . . . and the majority of his subordinates . . . even the Congress, were all involved in shady activities. After awhile of meeting with various enigmatic people and using the F.B.I for reasons unknown, several members of the bureau themselves decided to spy. Eventually, we've secretly made our own group our leader dubbed, the 'Independent Observers of Political Transgressing', or 'I.O.P.T.'. Most consisted of members of the government itself who felt they were being left out of major decisions.

"Our diligent investigations has led us to believe that our own government was being manipulated in some way. After our research led us here, we discovered that Wesker was using another parasite to control them somehow. My group was being slaughtered one by one by both the vampires and Wesker's hunters. We didn't stand a chance. It wasn't long before I ended up alone and found you. I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you sooner. I couldn't risk the chance of you being some Umbrella spy."

"Don't be, you were being faithful to your country. But, you mentioned Umbrella. Aren't they . . ."

"Take this," he said, handing her several folded sheets of paper. On one corner, it had I.O.P.T. written on it. "It should answer all your questions. There's a checkpoint out west of here. Go there and wait. There's a chopper constantly searching the area. My people have a base of operations not too far from here. Save yourself."

"W-Wait. I'm not leaving you here," her voice faltering. Drake smiled weakly.

"I'm really flattered. But I can't go on."

"But, you're fine now. Your wounds are healing. You're fine!"

"You and I both know why I can't go." He smiled remained. "But I really enjoyed being with you, Sam. Even if it was in this hellhole." Drake let go of her hand and took out a syringe. Some purplish liquid was in it.

". . ."

"Well? You and the boy have a chopper to catch. Hurry up!"

The syringe ready to be injected, she realized he must've known his fate all along. She would be his messenger, to deliver what he has learned in this now evil land to his comrades. He was going to kill himself to save them.

"Drake, I . . . Thank you, for everything."

"Save our country," were his last words to her.

She put away the papers, the info that was his last assignment. She smiled at Devon, who wore a worried smile also.

"Come on, sweetie. We're almost out of here."

Now more than ever, they needed to survive. She left the huge castle and into the morning light, both of them not looking back.