Chapter 21: Fear
I have nothing to give
And I have so much to lose
-Sarah McLaughlin
"These make this whole event more convenient, I must say." Marcus grinned, leaning forward as he pressed on, "Ironic how the chains that once held your prey now hold you." Selene lunged at him, only to be yanked back by the chains, then down to her knees with a forceful blow to her stomach. Breathing harshly against the tortuously slow expansion of the pain, she could only wince as someone brushed her hair back.
"Don't worry," that velvety voice spoke. Looking up, her face refused to move its muscles but her eyes burned into the bright green pair. William, now dressed in a pair of black pants, military boots, a button down shirt and leather jacket, looked every bit a modern man and even more like his older twin than before. Light danced across the surface of his eyes before sliding into the blackened cores. "Don't worry," he repeated, "I made him promise this won't be drawn out."
Erika snorted under her breath, curling up in Marcus' embrace as he shushed her mockingly. Playing the part of the consort, she wore a beautiful crushed red velvet halter top with custom black pants and stiletto heels. Earlier on, Selene noticed that she didn't wear the ring of an Elder's Consort, but a sparkling diamond, set in gold, on her ring finger.
Traitorous tramp to future queen. No one said the path to greatness was righteousness.
"SON OF BITCH!" a voice cried over a chorus of shouts and grunts.
The room came alive as a pile of dealers virtually crashed through the doorway. A mild sense of amusement then anger crossed her face when Michael threw two of them away, receiving a swift punch to his face and a steel-toed boot to his stomach. An echoing roar came out of him as one of the dealers jabbed a needle into his neck. They dragged his bruised, beaten and now drugged form to the wall and chained him next to his mate.
"Oh, what a couple you make," Erika teased, the wicked gleam in her eyes barely visible as she pressed her face into Marcus' lapel further, smudging off some of her make-up off in the process.
After shooting a death glare, Selene focused her vision, recognizing the outline of several large boilers, many of them brand new and running soundlessly, line either side of the long basement hall. Two of the boilers, those closest to them, were old and from the overpowering smell, where coal burning.
A noise at the other end of the basement caught Marcus and William's attention.
"Problems?"
"Traffic, my lord. I wish the excuse was better." Selene didn't know this vampire, but watched as Marcus nodded understandingly and waved his hand to summon him. A black haired man came up to them, lowering something off his shoulder and letting it thump to the ground. Bowing to the three vampires before him and sending a roving glance at Michael and Selene, he stood up straight
Selene looked to Michael as they were too far apart to touch. A glazed expression crossed over his eyes as he blinked to fight it off; his arms and limbs seemed too heavy for him. He looked to her, apologizing with drugged eyes before they rolled up into his head, now lolling left and right as he lost his battle. Combination of anger, frustration, and pity slipped out of her with a sigh.
Simultaneously, the group turned round, eyes trained on her. Marcus began, "For all that you have done in your centuries of existence, Selene, you have never properly thanked us. After all, every vampire and lycan exists because of us. And you have yet to apologize for the rather unfortunate debacle about sixty years ago." His head angled to the side, cracking loudly with a contented sigh. "An ache likes to keep in that very place."
"There is nothing," Selene spat, looking up at him, an angry haze growing over pure blue eyes, "to thank or apologize for. You deserved your deaths and if they had come sooner, this war would not exist."
A few moments of silence passed before William shrugged his shoulders with a sigh. "I don't think she will give anything, Marcus. Far too stubborn for her own good. But," he walked over, squatting down a short distance just out of her reach, "seeing as I have been given…what is this? A second or third?"
"Third," Marcus said with a soft laugh.
"Third chance, at life, I feel I must start off right by thanking you." Selene's glare intensified, the blue of her eyes icing over to the pale white of pure rage. William smiled, putting up his hand. "You see, if not for you, I would still be trapped in my lycan form."
"I did nothing to help you-"
"But you did," he interrupted her, waving his hand. Christian nodded to the elder, quickly turning around to the object he'd left on the floor. Placing his boot on the side of it, he harshly shoved it with a kick nearly to William. The Elder smiled at the Dealer's passionate nature and looked back to Selene.
Her eyes grew wide, heart suddenly pounding but lungs unable to draw breath. A wave of emotions threw her senses for a loop, memories of hours ago stabbing daggers into her heart and mind, two places that refused to believe what happened.
Dear God, it's a body bag. Even with the fact before, somehow she still clung to her belief that it was nothing but a vicious dream.
William pulled the bag closer and placed it in the space between them. He dragged the zipper down slowly; from the corner of his eye, he saw Michael stirring against the high dosage of tranquilizer. When the zipper reached the end, the bag open but not all the way, he looked up to the terrified expression on Selene's face. "You did help, Selene; it was your own flesh and blood that gave me another chance."
Gently, he pulled back the sides.
Selene shook with inaudible sobs, tears just falling down her face and onto the floor. Everything inside clenched up, her heart fighting to beat against the agonizing pain of reality. She reached out her hand, letting it drop to the floor as she was too far away to actually touch Nyssa's face. Already, her body looked decayed; the black and blue splotches now covered almost all of her skin. Prominent outlines of her small muscles and bones took shape beneath grayish leathery skin. Still, dark brown curls wrapped about an emaciated skull, framing her face as if she merely slept.
"No…no...No..." she whispered, trying to touch her daughter. As her fingertips ghosted the tips of Nyssa's hair, William pulled the bag closer to him. Lovingly, he lifted Nyssa's corpse from the bag, cradling her against him. Feral rage fired up as he caressed her hair softly, almost mockingly, and looked the child up and down with laughing eyes.
"Put her down." Watching his eyes snap up from the dried body, she dug her nails into the concrete, cutting bloody ruts in the stone as she curled her hands into fists. "Put my daughter down."
William stared down at the body before depositing it back into the bag's keep. He paused slightly before quickly zipping the bag back up and lifting it into his arms. Standing, he pierced Selene with his glowing green eyes. "She is dead, Selene. Nothing is left here but the body of a child whose traitorous and murdering mother never learned."
Selene rose to her feet, pulling slightly at the chains as William walked toward the nearest boiler. "No."
Christian opened the small door to the boiler, a wave of frying heat coming out with flames licking at the edges of the metal frame. William turned back to look at the horror-stricken mother.
"Now you'll know what it is like to lose the one thing you desperately need." William roughly threw the body bag inside the boiler and slapped the door shut.
A deafening silence covered the room as William turned back to Marcus, a triumphant grin on his face to match that of his brother's own. He went to move when an ear-splitting scream filled the air. Everyone clapped their hands over their ears, but hands could not keep out that noise. William spun around to see Selene, down on her knees, her mouth wide as the noise continue to flow from her shattered soul.
Glass shattered, fragments falling to the ground from the small vent windows at the top of the walls, causing Erika, Marcus and Christian to move swiftly, putting them even closer to Selene.
Desperately, Marcus uncovered his ears and stormed forward. A loud reverberating crack echoed in the room as he punched Selene in the dead center of her sternum. Immediately, the screaming stopped and she dropped to ground. He knelt down and found her pulse; despite the blow, she still lived. Most of her ribs were probably shattered, but she still drew a struggling breath.
A foul stench rapidly diffused through the room, the combination of heavy plastic and slowly roasting flesh causing Erika to cough before she ran over and hid her face in his coat. Looking over to Michael, Marcus watched as the hybrid coughed several times, eyes fluttering as his face squished up.
He nodded to Christian who stood shaking his head briefly to try and stop the ringing in his ears. The Dealers divided up, five to each of the prisoners, and began to move them back to their respective cells.
"NO!" All too quickly, Michael's senses regained ground, nasoreceptors firing off at the scent of Nyssa's flesh slowly broiling inside the body bag. Three dealers holding him hit the nearby wall, the other two pulling their weapons out as Michael rapidly began to change into his feral state.
"Aw, shit," Christian growled under his breath. Sweeping his jacket aside, he yanked out a small gun and jammed a capsule into it. Pausing only until the other three dealers latched onto Michael, trying to force him down, he dodged a sweep of the hybrid's arm and jammed the needle point into his chest. Inhuman and desperate growls escaped Michael's black lips as the sedative shot straight into the superior vena cava, the heart pumping the medicine through his lungs and quickly out the aorta. As his limbs weakened and his stamina died, the immortal virus let go of his flesh, letting him slide back into his human form.
"Nyssa...Nyssa..." The departed's name hushed on his lips. The dealers let him smack the pavement before dragging him out. Christian began to follow when Marcus grabbed his shoulder.
"Take them back to their cells and make sure to sedate them both heavily," he commanded swiftly. The vampire bowed and jogged out to keep up with the group holding Michael. Marcus, William, and Erika waited until the others carried a wide-eyed and paralyzed Selene past before going out themselves.
From the small alcove provided for the large metal smoke vent, Anna watched carefully as the door was shut, the click of the electronic lock barely audible over the boiler. Sighing, she slid down the wall, relaxing against the cool condensation of the ancient stone. Taking a deep breath, she blinked a few times before closing the body bag, thankful the air cooled it so quickly.
It was not easy to retrieve; she waited nearly two hours after opening the secondary grate in the back of two boilers; she was unsure of which one they would use. The industrious men of the early mechanical revolutions in Europe sometimes employed more than four men to shove coal into boilers in order to keep things running swiftly. Several prototypes of duel-door boilers came out at that time, usually with one on either side to ensure that two men could man each station without interruption.
Thankfully, who ever cared for the castle invested in two of these boilers. Even better, Marcus remained clueless of the gate's existence.
With complete reverence, she held the bag to her chest and began to scale the wall, shaking off tears as the gentle weight of the tiny body pressed against her.
Several thumps echoed through the streamlined corridor, the faint pang of metal muffled by the now lifeless bodies of the death dealers. After Michael and Selene's capture, a second wave of lycans stormed the garbage dump lab, slashing through the few dealers left. Under Amelia's orders, the scientists remained alive, kept condensed and caged in one of the labs furthest from the exit.
"What's the tally?" Thomas asked, dumping a dealer whose face resembled flesh ribbons atop the growing pile.
"37 dealers, 4 scientists and about 8 of the lab techs," Victoria replied, wiping the sweat from her forehead off with the back of her blood-caked jacket sleeve.
"About 8?"
"We found pieces, so we don't know if its one or two vampires." Thomas nodded briefly. Both of them reeked of vampire blood, a sickening sour taste left on the back of their tongues. He relished the idea of showering, but the possibility of a hot shower any time soon seemed minimal. Crackling followed by a buzzing noise came over their walkie-talkies.
"Sir?"
"Yeah?"
"Anna's here."
"Let her pass. We'll meet her in the main lab."
For centuries of hunting down the lycans, Anna expected the stares, whispers, and often times, growls of the lycan warriors. After joining the clan, she spent most of her time doing advanced surveillance and special tactics with former dealers like herself. Some of the more tolerant lycans agreed to working with her, if only for her centuries of experience.
So, when she put the car in park and a lycan opened her car door for her, a mild wave of shock passed over her. Emotionally spent as she was, she put the moment aside for a later mental review. Using all of the gentleness and care in her body, she pulled the half charred bag out, cradling it momentarily before moving into the building. Unused to usage at all, the tear ducts in her eyes throbbed as more of the cool, salty liquid welled up in the corners. At this point, she didn't care if the lycans saw her crying; she was caring a dead child in her arms who, in many of their opinions, deserved so much more time on this earth then she was given.
The lycan who opened her car door lead her down into the belly of the lab. Pools of congealed blood caused her to step cautiously as they passed into the main hallway. Anna only glanced at the large piles of her former comrades, a welling hatred of her former life too much to take on at the moment.
It wasn't until half way to the main lab that she stopped and looked around her. Every lycan in the hallway, nearly twenty of them, stood along the walls, their eyes nervously settled upon the bag in her arms. Pivoting on her heel, she turned sideways, glancing down the hall at those she passed. A few of them caught her bloodshot eyes and looked away immediately, her open display of emotions almost too much for them. It was funeral procession of sorts, a way of mourning the clan's failure and the loss of their tiny princess. Most of them never met or even saw Nyssa. But being the only child currently in the clan, the daughter of their leaders, and the object of every hunt and mission, each one felt a connection to her and the pain of her death.
This is a true clan, she thought as she looked down on the zipped form. The pain and difficulty of the moment caused her to turn and continue the death march.
Reaching the lab, the lycan stood at the doorway and let her pass into the room. When she cleared the door, he tugged the large steel door and shut it, metallic clangs and clicks sounding to signify its closure. A shaky breath escaped her as she looked up at the group before her. Victoria sat on the furthest lab table with her legs tucked up beneath her as Thomas leaned against the edge of it. Amelia and Kelley stood silently, as if they stopped a deep conversation to stare at Anna.
Pressing on, Anna gently placed the bag on the other exam table. Amelia came up to the other side immediately, pausing to look into the vampire's eyes. Anna merely blinked and stepped back slightly; her arms ached, both relieved of their burden and missing the precious weight all at once. Victoria, Thomas, and Kelley moved closer to the table, all sides of the table occupied with their presence.
Amelia lightly placed her hand on the bag, her fingers shaking as they grasped the zipper. Closing her eyes, she slowly worked the the zipper down and pulled the bag open.
A smell all too familiar in this war filled the room, the medicinal scent of clean tools gone within seconds. It's something so distinct, disgusting, and heartbreaking, but a part of everyone's lives as long as they could remember. Almost like guns, it was a weapon and warning. Anna could barely look up at them, but she could hear the hatred, the anger, and the pain screaming silently from all who gathered around the small table.
"I'm so sorry; I couldn't get her out without some...burns," the once proud dealer whispered. Amelia swallowed back a scream and a torrent of tears as she looked upon the once beautiful hybrid child.
A soft croak, almost like a bark, escaped Victoria's throat as she whirled around into Thomas' comforting embrace. He tucked her head beneath his chin, the soft sobs being muffled by his heavy leather coat as her tears just running down the smooth planes of his jacket.
Kelley moved next to Anna, squeezing her left hand tightly, starting the vampire. Anna stared wide-eyed the the lycan for a moment, a visual exchange of emotions occurring between them. After few seconds, Anna moved into Kelley's open arms, leaning her head on the offered shoulder.
For the longest time, no one moved or said anything. No one could stop the smell of tempered flesh from invading their nose, the sudden and soft crack of heat escaping some bubble on the child's skin, or the sight they sickeningly related to that of over-cooked food. After Selene and Michael settled an unprecedented peace to form their clan nearly sixty years ago, it seemed a trivial task to protect their child. But as they stood around the examination table, they felt not only failure, but the loss of something much greater than their cause.
Everyone jumped slightly as Amelia cleared her throat. She was bent over on the table, her hands folded almost in prayer, her forehead resting on them. Standing straight, she stroked the singed brown locks on the Nyssa's head.
"Bring the bitch that did this," the unusually soft, kind lilt to her voice put ice in everyone's veins.
"Which one?" Thomas asked, an angryfire kindling in his veins.
"Her name is Bethany," she replied, a malicious blue fire burning in her eyes. "And we need to talk."
A/N: strap in. we're getting to the fun part.
until next chapter,
anthestria