The Great Hall met Mr Tiny's expectations at last. He surveyed the huge room with a soft smile of satisfaction, his thumbs tucked into his waistcoat. The stone floor had been cleaned so it gleamed a marble white and black drapes hung from the pillars and ceiling. Neither was necessary but the man felt style improved a lot of things, even the drab, weary room. The battle was the key event, months of hard work on his behalf and years of built up tensions between the Vampires and Vampaneze would finally erupt in a glorious fight. Mr Tiny turned to face the small group of Vampaneze elders who had taken to following him around like a mini-government and addressed them.
"Friends, the hall is sufficient. Both lords are ready. It will not be long."
"How long? We have waited lifetimes! Where is the vampire lord?"
"Hush Damien," snapped Xavier, "a few minutes more should not trouble you after a lifetime's practice."
"I just want to be sure we have the right boy! The battle must take place tonight, mustn't it?" Mr Tiny nodded.
"Yes, yes. I believe I have already explained the prophecy's correction?" Silence fell, broken by the odd mutter and grumble. Mr Tiny resumed observing the Vampaneze with interest. The man took an interest in humankind, unfortunately for them though he treated the race like a hobby, a game to be taken out of it's box once in a while and played with. Mr Tiny was smiled. He had just spotted a shifty looking figure lurking near the back, failing at looking inconspicuous in a crowd.
"Steve!" he boomed. Steve glanced up with an expression so mixed, it was almost unreadable. Almost. Mr Tiny was somewhat disappointed to find a trace of fear lingering on his features. Steve flit down the length of the room and reached his side in a manner of seconds.
"Yeah?" he said peevishly. Mr Tiny assumed he was nervous.
"Are you ready, my son? Are you prepared?" Steve shrugged.
"I guess," he said, "where's Rose?" It was the man's turn to shrug.
"Oh I expect she'll be along momentarily. The battle will begin soon. I have heard the vampire lord is on his way. We shall soon learn his identity." Steve bit down on the inside of his cheek in an effort not to retort. He knew the man was lying. He had spied him receiving Darren last night.
"How long do I have?" asked Steve.
"A few minutes, not long. Go and find Xavier, he has the ceremonial robes for you." Mr Tiny watched the figure stroll off and gloated. The plan was going perfectly.
"Mr Tiny, Mr Tiny!" whispered a voice near his ear hurriedly. The fat man did not turn around but merely nodded in acknowledgment, "It's the girl, Rose. She tried to break the vampire out, sir, but we got her. She's currently unconscious in one of the cells, sir."
"I shall deal with the matter momentarily,' Mr Tiny said. It was a good word. It always made people hesitate. They were never quite sure whether he meant he'd deal with it now, or just deal with it briefly. And no-one ever dared ask.
"Very well sir. Shall we bring in the vampire now?" Another nod sent the guard hurrying back toward the door. Mr Tiny clapped his hands. The Vampaneze turned their heads as one to face him. There were currently hundreds, possibly thousands, of pairs of red eyes narrowing in his direction. The Vampaneze did not normally tolerate the sort of man who assumed that clapping his hands granted him undivided attention but the excitement of the imminent battle overrode these basic mutinous feelings.
"Friends, the vampire has arrived!" A great roar of satisfaction erupted. The Vampaneze craned their necks and looked towards the doors. They opened and crack and a Vampaneze poked her head through the gap and grinned horribly. Mr Tiny nodded.
"Please welcome our - your opponent!" Boos and hisses rose to a deafening rumble as Darren was pushed through the doors. Two guards stood either side of him maintaining a stoic post, each with a menacing hand resting firmly on his shoulders and a tall Vampaneze with long white blond hair strode ahead. Darren had acquired a long black robe which drowned him and made his pale, scared face stand out. The Vampaneze laughed with glee to see their enemy look so unprepared.
Mr Tiny was suddenly aware of a presence at his right side. He turned slightly and looked down his nose at Steve who was standing with his eyes fixed on his former best friend.
"It is always helpful to confront an enemy who is ready to die for his cause,' he said smugly. 'This means that both you and he share a common goal." Steve didn't reply immediately; he watched the boy carefully.
"He doesn't look ready to die," he said quietly, "he looks afraid." He looked up at his mentor and frowned.
"So...Darren's the vampire's lord? I can kill him easily." Mr Tiny grinned.
"No doubt, son. But why don't you play it out a bit? Give the Vampaneze a revolution to remember, eh?"
"The Vampaneze council said I should kill him quickly and with as much mess as possible to antagonize the vampires, you know?" Mr Tiny rolled his eyes.
"I have certainly noticed that the Vampaneze elders are capable of really stupid ideas, yes. Fight the vampire first then finish him off. Prove your strength," he rested a hand on Steve's shoulder, "don't listen to the Vampaneze, boy, listen to me." Steve nodded. His impassive expression was enough to suffice Mr Tiny but inside, his mind and emotions were in turmoil.
Steve was barely aware of the dozens of hands slapping him on the back as he was propelled forward into a clearing. Darren was standing a few hundred feet away, quite alone. The black robe which fell to the floor completely swamped him and swished around his ankles. Steve's own robe was slightly to big for him too but he'd rolled back to sleeves to his elbows and the hood partially hid his eyes, casting a dark shadow across the bridge of his nose. Looking around the room, Steve saw the Vampaneze cat-calling and urging him to fight as though in slow motion. Fists punched the air and red eyes flashed as he took up his position. Darren looked twice as scared as he felt, he was trembling and his lip was quivering as he tried to avoid eye contact with everyone. Steve wished he would try to look braver, threatening even. He wasn't sure he could justify fighting someone as vulnerable as Darren never mind killing him. Just then Steve's conscience spoke up. The voice of reason was cracked and hoarse as it hadn't spoken in a while but it clearly told him what the Vampaneze wanted him to do was wrong. Steve pushed the voice to the back of his mind easily, it put up little resistance. He had to kill Darren. He didn't have a choice. Did he?
Mr Tiny stepped back into the shadows as a Vampaneze took over. Xavier raised his hands for silence and, as an excited hush fell like a blanket over the crowds, his hands dropped to his side, indicating the battle should commence. Steve shrugged and walked slowly toward the boy. Darren remained rooted to the spot.
"I...I - I don't want to hurt you, Steve,' stuttered Darren.
'That's good,' said Steve. 'I don't want you to hurt me either. Though I doubt you could." He was now only a few feet away from his enemy but the anger he had expected at the sight of Darren did not well up. In fact he felt nothing. No anger, no frustration, no fear, nor pity. He knew he could end Darren's life in a matter of minutes, clearly Darren knew too, but he didn't really want to.
"If I killed you, it would be for the Vampaneze, not for me," he told the boy honestly, "this isn't revenge, this is a revolution."
"I think it's supposed to be kind of like revenge," said Darren uncertainly. He glanced up at Mr Tiny's expression and remembered what Mr Rabish had told him.
"Well, it's not," snapped Steve, "I'm going to kill you because they want me to, not because I particularly want to, all right?" The bridge of silence between them allowed Steve to reflect on what he'd just said. He hadn't meant to be so honest but now he had said the words he knew they were true.
"Uh, that's not...I mean, I didn't mean - "
"I think I got your meaning," said Darren, "you're just doing what you're told, right? Following orders?" He stepped back as Steve bared his teeth. His incisors seemed especially long.
"No! That's not how it is! They follow me! I'm their leader!" he growled.
"No, you're their lord. It's not the same thing. You're supposed to fight not rule!" Darren knew his words were dangerous but the more he talked, the less chance Steve had to rip his throat out.
"I'm supposed to win," snarled Steve, stressing the final word. He took a step forward and crouched, ready to spring.
"Get on with it!" cried a voice from the back.
"Less talking!"
"Ouch!" A buzz of panic rose and spread.
"Look out! Freaks!" A series of cries and growls infiltrated the crowds nearest the door and pandemonium spread as the Vampaneze gradually realised something was wrong. Darren and Steve both spun around as a voice called out Darren's name.
Mr Crepsley, joined by a small army of freaks, burst into the clearing. Blood and scratches covered his face but a bloody dagger was visible, gleaming in the poor light.
"Get behind me!" he roared. A Vampaneze made to attack him but a quick wrist movement caused her to double up, blood spreading through her dress. Mr Crepsley wiped the blade on his coat and signalled Darren to join them. Steve, seeing Darren's hesitation, took advantage of the interruption and leapt at him, pinning him to the floor. The boys wrestled but Steve was stronger and Darren found himself unable to move.
"Finish me then," muttered Darren through gritted teeth. Steve looked down at his enemy. Blue eyes were staring up at him through locks of hair and he had several scratched across his throat.
"No!" roared Mr Crepsley from across the room. The old vampire's arms were pinned behind his back and he was being held by the Vampaneze who were watching gleefully. Steve's gaze, fractured by tousled hair, met Mr Tiny's.
"Should I kill him?" he cried. The crowds cheered and hollered, enjoying the show.
"But I don't want to!" The crowds cheered again, even louder if possible. Steve sighed. The crowd's excitement made them stupid. It didn't matter what Steve yelled, he knew that the crowds only saw him pinning the opposition to the floor. Whatever he said was interpreted as a battle cry.
"Don't...want...to?" said Darren, struggling for air. He felt the boy's grip lessen slightly.
"Then...get...OFF!" Steve was sent flying backwards, skidding along the floor on the space between his shoulders before perfecting a backwards roll into a crouching start. But before he had a chance to stand, Darren rocketed into him, his sharp nails elongated. Steve felt sharp pains across his neck and chest as Darren clawed his way to freedom. Steve struggled to sit up but his hands were pinned to his side. What's the use? He thought, waiting for the pain to end. He knew this wasn't his fight. He and Darren had already fought that day in the theatre and he knew another confrontation wouldn't solve anything. Eventually, the agony lessened as the frenzied attack ceased.
Twinges of pain seared across his throat. Steve gasped and opened his eyes. Darren was beside him, staring at his with fearful eyes, a hand covering his mouth. He was shaking, horrified by the sudden jolt of anger that had surged through him. Steve sat up and felt the pain from bruised shoulders complain. At last, Darren removed his hand from his mouth.
"I could have killed you," he stuttered.
"I would have let you," muttered Steve, pushing the boy away and sitting up. Open mouthed and trembling, Darren staggered back and fell into the arms of the waiting Vampaneze.