Spike and Mitchell were relishing the adventure before them, both had been irritated by the ease of their capture and both felt they had some reckoning to do with Dracula. Despite their different temperaments, Spike's sarcasm and anarchic attitude grated against Mitchell's need for harmony, they worked brilliantly as a team. Mitchell crept ahead, silent as only a predator could be on his big black boots. He was naturally cautious and this served them well as they had met with two sets of guards.
The first had been two blonde women warriors and it was not until they were incapacitated that Spike noticed these were not the same two he had seen before. He raised his eyebrows thinking that Dracula must have turned a whole race of Viking Amazons back in the day. The element of surprise had been theirs as the guards had only heard their approach at the last moment. There had been a few seconds of ludicrous farce as both Mitchell and Spike rode on the warrior women's' backs trying to get some kind of advantage while the blonde guards spun about, battering their riders on the sharp, rocky walls. It was much to their surprise that Sir Francis then joined the fray. With the agility of a cat he jumped first upon the woman onto whose back Mitchell clung like a cowboy on a bucking bronco. Deftly his thin hands felt for her neck and with a great wrench he turned her head so sharply that Mitchell heard the bones snap and the woman fell lifeless to the floor. Her body rested there briefly, turned ashen gray then to dust at his feet. Sir Francis was now upon Spike's assailant and she too was quickly dispatched by the same efficient method. He body too reduced to dust Sir Francis wiped his hands fastidiously on his coat tails. He looked up and smiled weakly at the two astonished faces of his colleagues.
'Bloody 'ell mate,' panted Spike from where he was doubled over, hands on his knees, 'remind me not to get on the wrong end of you!' He stood and slapped Sir Francis appreciatively on the back, Sir Francis stumbled forward, his former strength seeming to have left him. His smile grew a little wider. Mitchell was shaking his head.
'Wow. I didn't expect that from you Franny boy,' he grinned. Sir Francis finished dusting off his hands.
'Well, I wondered whether you really needed my help but I thought we were best getting it over with and getting on,' his tone was polite.
After this they had carried on, this time with Sir Francis in the middle so that he could help with an attack from in front or from behind.
'I'd like a nice solid door now and again,' muttered Spike as they rounded a bend to find yet more snaking, crooked rocky walls.
'At least it seems we're heading upwards now,' Mitchell whispered back, 'we must be going in the right direction. Maybe we'll get out without coming across Dracula at all.' He sounded hopefully.
It was then the second set of guards attacked. They jumped from what Mitchell had taken to be a deep recess in the walls of the passage but which was actually a junction of another corridor. The first guard to fly out of the dark shadow was small and incredibly ugly. White livid flesh puckered on its face and its mouth was no more than I sharply fanged hole beneath the slits it used as a nose. Mitchell was flung back against the rocks by the weight of his attacker.
'Ubervamps!' Spike hissed pushing past Sir Francis to grab the smaller creature by the black rags it wore and flinging it back down the corridor, knocking its companions over with the force of his bowling arm. Mitchell scrambled up accepting Spike's hand.
'What the fuck is that?' his voice sounded scared. Spike shook his head.
'Ubervamps. They have some other long winded name. Haven't seen them since Buffy fought the first but...' whatever he had been going to say was lost as the ugly vampire scrambled forward again and clutched its taloned hands tightly around his neck. He grabbed the bony fingers and tried to prise them off but the thing kept on squeezing. Spike's foot came up between the ubervamp's legs and it stumbled back, behind it three more human looking vampires charged out of the darkness.
Sir Francis grabbed the first by his arm and swung him violently into the two others. He looked own as the vampire's arm came off in his hand. He shrugged and began to brandish the severed arm, hitting the ubervamp with the ragged, bloody end. The ubervamp, obviously distracted by the blood, grabbed the bleeding stump and gnawed on it with its grotesque pointed fangs. This gave Spike time to attack and he quickly pulled a big Bowie knife from his coat and slashed at the ubervamp's throat. The creature staggered back still clutching the severed limb as its blood, thick and black pumped from its neck like a sick fountain. It collapsed to the ground. The one armed vampire was still attacking Sir Francis. Mitchell recovered himself enough to link his hands together and smash at the vampire's head until it too sunk to the ground. The other two attacking vampires looked at each other and started to run. Spike wiped the Bowie knife on his trousers, the wickedly sharp edge shining in the dim light from the torches. He picked up a large rock lying at the side of the passage and threw it high along the roof of the corridor. It cracked one vampire loudly on his head and he stumbled onto his friend in front, both of them going down like dominoes.
'Sir Francis? If you would...' Spike gestured a twisting motion with his hands as Sir Francis nodded eagerly and snapped the necks of the stunned vampires, finishing with the one he had delivered of his arm last of all.
For a moment the three looked at the carnage around them. It was Spike who began to laugh first. He slapped a leather clad leg with his hand.
'Brilliant!' he shouted, 'I've not had that much fun in ages!'
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A very different sort of progress had been made by Lady Elizabeth and Carmilla. The two tall, graceful vampire women stalked along the rocky tunnel, stopping slightly to accommodate their regal height. They long draping clothes swept behind them and the torch light glittered from the jewels in Lady Elizabeth's blonde long hair and the ivory sheen where Carmilla's red velvet dress exposed her white shoulders. They did not speak or hold hands for comfort as the others had done. Instead they picked their way along like two beautiful, deadly spiders made form ice. Their eyes glittered with excitement and their senses were sharper than Spike's Bowie knife. They both longed for a chance to redress the injustices they had suffered at Dracula's hands.
Carmilla stopped silently, holding up a delicate white hand to indicate silence. There was not need; neither of the vampire women had made any noise discernable to hearing, human or otherwise.
Ahead of them the torchlight flickered more brightly illuminating the sharp features of two blonde vampire women. They wore the leather armour, stamped with the dragon, that was the uniform of Dracula's High Guard and they stood perfectly still looking out towards where Carmilla and Lady Elizabeth approached. One of them angled her spear out into the darkness, her supernatural senses telling her something was out there although her animal senses told her nothing.
Gently touching Carmilla's arm as though they might be two gentle ladies at a formal ball, Lady Elizabeth eased herself into the torchlight. Carmilla had to admit that she was breath taking. Her dark blue gown cut low over her breasts, her golden hair intricately coiled and sparkling with gems. The glamour spread out from her like lazy, sweet honey, transfixing the guards in its seductive amber. Carmilla had to fight to keep herself from slipping into its warm depths. She marvelled at the Countess' power. Her voice was and expansion of the glamour, heady and intoxicating.
'Sisters,' she breathed and the Viking women relaxed, their mouths pulled into lascivious smiles, their hard muscles softening in the golden glow of the countess' glamour. 'Sisters, surely you will fight with us?' Through the glamour her reasoning was so clear, so obvious that Carmilla felt herself nod in agreement with the Viking women. Carmilla felt a desperate longing to touch the Countess' skin, to feel her approval bathe over her body. The Viking women moved nearer to Lady Elizabeth, not daring to touch but their longing too was drawn across their face in delicious anguish. The countess raised a delicate hand and trickled her fingers through the hair of the nearest guardswoman. The flaxen hair fell loose around the woman's shoulders and the Viking closed her ice blue eyes in pleasure. When she had freed both the women's hair Lady Elizabeth smiled at her three vampire companions. The smile was seductive and it glittered with cruelty.
'Now, sisters, let us find this whelp Dracula.'