Bela's consciousness stirred in the blackness, a slow and uncertain awakening. Initially, she felt weightless and disconnected from reality itself. The air around her was devoid of sound, leaving only the echoes of her own breathing in the resonating silence. It felt like her mind was slowly gathering, akin to when she had first awoken in the hellish nightmare of Serpenmoor.
Where... where am I?
As her senses gradually returned, Bela became aware of an odd chill that shifted into a soft warmth. It clung to her like a shroud, caressing her skin as it drifted about. She tried to move, but her limbs seemed frozen, unresponsive to any attempt to push herself forward.
She was left to remain where she was, feeling like a statue with a beating heart. Her amber eyes darted around in all directions as her mind suddenly came to. It was almost as if she had been here before, feeling a sense of familiarity in this strange plane of existence. That was when her memories kicked in, recalling the harrowing chase that involved the carriage and Vikcia.
Her ears still rang from the gunfire that ventilated the cart, eventually sending it down into the canal.
Wait! We crashed! I fell into the water! Everything went cold, and then I didn't feel a thing! Am I dead?!
A dim, distant light flickered in the abyss, its faint glow pulsating like a heartbeat. The light drew her attention, acting as a beacon in this vast darkness. She tried to follow it along as best she could, but it moved so fast that it almost seemed to disappear.
Bela squinted, straining to perceive her surroundings. The void was so strong that it may have been able to swallow anything whole. Her lungs fought to take in air, but none would enter. Did she even need any at all?
What is happening? I must be dead!
More flickering lights emerged slowly across the infinite background. They shimmered, creating a celestial army of illumination as they steadily multiplied. There was no way to keep track of them. Every time her eyes moved to stare at one group, she would turn back, only to discover hundreds more elsewhere. Within seconds, the entire environment had become adorned with countless stars.
Stars. Indeed. She felt like she was floating in the middle of the night sky.
This feels peaceful. I don't feel afraid, for some reason.
The sensation around her soon brought life to her arms and legs, allowing them to bend and sway as she curled up. With a slow breath, Bela stretched out her body as she rotated and set down an unset path. She could not keep track of how long she swam in the sea of this strange place. It could have been a minute or an hour. There was no way to know for certain.
As she continued through the cosmic expanse, the stars began to shift and twinkle in patterns, forming intricate constellations that seemed to tell stories unheard. There was a sense of solace to be found in this journey, as the comfort she felt in their presence almost took away all the horrors that had preceded her arrival.
Gliding through the astral sea, Bela's attention was stolen when a soft voice, like a gentle breeze, whispered through the cosmic currents. "They are beautiful, aren't they?"
Her heart lit up, alerted by the presence of another person nearby. It brought about an immediate sense of panic, but as the words melted into her brain, the feeling of danger faded away.
Why do I know that voice?
She turned her head, only to be greeted with the form of a woman's body nearby. A brunette with light hair and fair skin. Slender in build, and so very young. Draped over her body was a sky-blue gown that mirrored the natural color of her eyes. On her face was a lovely smile that exuded the brightest of teeth as those thin, pink lips spread.
She was only a few feet away from the blonde, and when Bela gazed at her, she instantly recognized who this woman was.
Edith?
Contrary to what Bela remembered, there was no evidence of her being paralyzed. Edith's skin was as vibrant as ever. Dry and warm, unlike the clammy and pale textures brought on after months of suffering. Her once frozen form now moved effortlessly in the weightless space, her hair flowing like strands of silk behind her narrow shoulders.
"Edith…" Bela could not take her eyes off her. "How? How are you…"
"I've been admiring them for a while now." Edith continued to smile, her eyes filled with an energy that Bela hadn't seen for a long time. "There's no need to worry. Not when we're surrounded by such beauty," she replied.
Bela's brows furrowed with confusion. "You were paralyzed. I saw you die. I killed you."
Edith gently placed a hand on Bela's shoulder, her touch radiating a nurturing love. "I was, and you did."
Bela hesitated, struggling to grasp the truth as she looked around at the swirling lights that surrounded them. "Is this... the afterlife?"
Edith's smile remained, but she shook her head. "Let's just admire these lights while we have the time, shall we?"
The blonde remained silent. It felt like a dream. Maybe this was just death, plain and simple. This wasn't her first go-around when it came to seeing visions of someone who had died before. Luana had paid her a visit during her confinement in Malcolm's cage. She chalked that up to a mere hallucination, but then the events that followed with the help of the fragment proved that there were things that she had yet to understand.
Following the crash into the water, she felt as though this could very well have been the final stop. Vikcia was likely munching on her body by now, assuming the carriage and steeds hadn't crushed it upon impact.
There's no way that I'm still alive. I must be dead in that canal. Kyia… She's probably dead, too. We failed. I failed. Ethan, I am so sorry.
Edith's hand wrapped around Bela's shoulder as the two ladies looked on at the infinite glimmers that shined all around them. "I haven't seen a sky like this in so long. With all the city lights, it's easy to forget what the universe looks like."
"Is that where we are, Edith? The universe?"
"Not quite." She left it at that, releasing her hand from Bela's shoulder, only to take hold of hers. "Come. We don't have much time."
What does she mean?
Bela hesitated but allowed herself to be led through the astral sea. Unspoken questions hung in the air, yet Edith's demeanor was coupled with a mixture of calmness and urgency. There was no rush in the way she spoke, but her words hinted that her company would only last for so much longer. As they traveled further down the ever-growing environment, the assortment of lights elongated like the tails of comets.
Yet, as fast as they appeared to be moving, Bela felt like she and Edith were hardly moving at all. Soon the world around them slowed to a sudden stop, and the brunette floated in front of her, now holding her by both her hands.
Edith's thumbs caressed the sides of Bela's palms as the two women floated together in the starlight. The brunette sighed as her gaze trailed off to the constellations beyond her. "This really is all so beautiful. I just wanted to share it with you."
"Please," Bela begged, "you need to tell me what is happening."
"Nothing is happening," Edith remarked. "You're going to wake up, and then all this will go away."
"What do you mean that I'm going to wake up?" Bela's worried face turned in all directions, only for Edith to grip her hands tighter.
"You'll be back right where you left off," she said. "I just thought that you should have a moment with an old friend."
Bela paused, thinking about the bond that the two had forged inside Malcolm's house. How she wished she could have brought Edith out of that torturous place. The girl was so young. She deserved to have been able to live her life. But things ended the way that they did, and all she could do was remember the happiness that this girl had brought her.
A tear fell from the blonde's eye. "I am so sorry that I couldn't save you."
In the face of Bela's anguish, Edith's eyes closed, and that smile on her face only broadened. The temperature in her hands rose, radiating across Bela's skin. "But you did. You did everything that you could for me, and I will always remember that."
"I just wish things were different."
Edith's eyelids opened as she tilted her head. "Don't we all?"
"Why?" Bela lamented the circumstances of her life. "Why did this all have to happen?"
Edith reached over and wiped the tear from her eye. "There sometimes isn't a reason for why things happen, but we make the best of them." Her finger curled in, drying Bela's pale skin. "In truth, I don't regret having to endure everything that I went through, because the Fabled Ones brought me the most wonderful friend."
Her faith still goes strong, even after all that she suffered.
"I'm not even from your world, Edith," Bela confessed. "We were never supposed to meet."
"But we did, and that is all that matters." Edith giggled as her eyes glistened at the stars. "It is such an amazing life that we all live. We've just barely scratched the surface of it. There are so many things that we will never understand. Other realms? How amazing."
"I don't know how much longer I can go on." She felt the arrival of failure looming over her. It seemed as though this struggle would take her nowhere, no matter how hard she fought to win. Ethan may not have even been alive anymore. Maybe she was just fighting for a ghost. There was no way to tell for sure. "What if this is all for nothing?"
Edith's hand rose and softened against the blonde's cheek. "I've wanted to give up so many times. My life was torture, but in the end, I found the beauty in living. I cannot tell you where your road will take you, Bela, but wherever you go, go there with your purpose."
Her hand withdrew itself as those blue eyes shimmered again. "This isn't the end. Not yet."
Bela nodded, her heart heavy with a mix of sorrow and gratitude. The illumination of their surroundings seemed to fluctuate, as if echoing the emotional intensity between them. She held onto Edith's hands, not wanting to let go, afraid that the moment would slip away like a fleeting dream.
A dream. That's what this must have been, after all. Edith wanted to dream so badly.
Edith's voice, soft and soothing, filled the space between them. "Bela, I want you to promise me something."
Bela looked into Edith's eyes, a wave of curiosity washing over her.
"Promise me that when you get to where you belong, you'll continue being the kind-hearted woman I met back there," Edith implored, her words carrying a piece of her soul. She seemed to know about things that Bela never mentioned to her. "It will get worse before it gets better, but I know you will one day find what you want the most."
What does she mean it will get worse? I shouldn't overthink this. I've spent my entire life overthinking. I have so much weighing on me. I can't sort it out all at once. I'm just going to have to trust her. She knows more about life than I do.
Tears welled up in Bela's eyes, and she nodded, her voice barely a whisper, "I promise, Edith."
Edith's smile radiated further warmth, and she brought Bela into a tender embrace. The starlight intensified around them, creating a dazzling glow. Bela felt a gentle pull, a force tugging at her very essence.
"Thank you, Bela," Edith said, her voice fading as the surroundings enveloped them. "For being my friend, and for pulling me out of the darkness and into the light."
"Is this the dream that you wished for so badly?" Bela asked.
"No," Edith replied with some tenderness in her voice. "I'm in a place far away from here, but being able to see this was so very lovely. No matter what realm you're in, I'll always be watching over you, because that's what friends do."
That's what friends do…
Edith's hands gripped Bela's palms, only to trickle away. "But it's time for you to wake up now."
.
Bela gasped, her eyes fluttering open to a world of murky water. Panic gripped her as she felt the cold liquid engulfing her, suffocating the woman as her lungs were nearly emptied. She didn't know how deep she was, and the night sky above offered little insight into where the surface lay. Instinctively, she thrashed, fighting against the weight pulling her down.
I need to swim!
Then, like an unexpected lifeline, strong arms encircled her. Bela's vision blurred, but she sensed a powerful force pulling her upward. Captain Webb's determined face came into focus as he hauled her toward the surface. The chilly air hit her like a slap, and she coughed, gasping for breath.
"Easy now," Webb's voice cut through the disorientation, his eyes scanning her for signs of injury. "You're safe. We need to get out of the water."
Bela nodded, her head pounding. The underside of the carriage floated and pointed towards the dark heavens above. Kyia, drenched and disheveled, was already swimming towards the canal's edge. She must have been spared such a brutal landing, Bela figured.
As Webb pulled her further along toward the brunette, the only thing that she could feel on her was her bag, which held her sickle on the outside. "Where's my gun?" She became frantic, fearing that her defense against the hordes had been lost.
"I have no idea," Webb remarked, just as soon as he spotted one of the rifles that his soldiers no longer needed floating nearby. "But I got another one for you. First, we need to get back on our feet."
The canal's water had taken on a gruesome hue, tainted by the blood spilled in the struggle. Bela's mind grappled with the recent events, the chaotic escape, and the loss of the steeds. Vikcia had easily ravaged them, decimating the soldiers with little to no effort.
"Where is Vikcia?!" Bela suddenly started to panic.
"The bitch flew off as soon as the carriage struck the canal," Webb stated as he swam forward, carrying the blonde and the two rifles along with him. "She didn't take too kindly to the water, it seems. She bolted off back onto the streets, but I lost sight of her. Do you still have that light source on you?"
Wait! Where is it?!
Bela began to feel all around her body, but the flashlight was nowhere to be found. It must have fallen into the water. She fought to free herself from Webb's hold, but the man would not release her.
"My flashlight!" She yelled. "It's gone! Must get it!"
"If it's in the water, then it's lost," he told her. "It's too deep to search, and there are bodies everywhere down there. If Vikcia comes back, there will be nowhere to run."
"There's no way to fight her without that light," she pleaded. "You saw it! Please, just let me go! I can find it!"
Webb tightened his grip on Bela, his gaze firm. "You can't risk it. I just barely found you. Your flashlight may be lost, but your life isn't. We'll find another way to face her, but not here."
Kyia, having pulled herself up onto the edge of the canal, joined the conversation. "He's right, Bela. We can't afford to look. Vikcia won't give us much time before she comes back for us."
Bela's desperation clashed with the harsh reality they faced. With a heavy heart, she relented, allowing Webb to guide her away toward the edge of the narrow walkway that bordered the canal's stone wall. Kyia, her own form drenched to the bone, extended her hand without hesitation, offering a lifeline to her companion.
Bela reached out, her fingers trembling as they grasped Kyia's thin hand, finding solace in her touch. With a surge of determination, Kyia summoned whatever strength remained within her weary body, pulling Bela up from the waters below.
As Bela's elbows found themselves on the slab of stone, she pushed herself upward. With Kyia's support, she hoisted herself onto the edge, her knees rising above her hands. As she rose with the help of the brunette's arms around her waist, she instructed her to release her hold with a grateful nod.
Meanwhile, Webb remained in the water, his focus now set on placing the rifles on the hard surface in front of him.
Bela, her chest heaving with exertion, coughed violently as she struggled to expel the water that had invaded her lungs. Kyia's reassuring presence at her back provided a semblance of comfort, her steady hand offering a soothing rhythm as she patted Bela's trembling form, each touch a silent reassurance that they were not alone in their struggle.
As she did, all that Bela could think about was the loss of the precious resources that they had. This journey was perilous, but now, even more so. The fragments that they held onto were still secure inside the bags along their backs. She was grateful that they had not been lost in the chaos, as the entire city would surely converge on them if they had been.
She mulled over whether it was best to even have tried helping Webb and his soldiers. All they had managed to do was draw Vikcia towards their location. She may not have been aware of the two women, but the men were a different story entirely. She hunted them down like the helpless deer that they had become.
In the end, three out of the four were dead, and the carriage and steeds were done for. In the aftermath of the chase, Bela's body screamed with agony, every movement a reminder of the violence she had endured. Shrapnel embedded in her flesh throbbed with each turn she made. Her limbs felt heavy and sluggish, weakened by countless skirmishes with the infected that had left her battered and bruised. The plunge into the canal's dark waters had only served to exacerbate her physical torment, sapping what little strength remained.
Hell, she doubted that she would even make it to the clock tower at this rate. But her mind quickly recalled that strange vision that she had just had of Edith. Was any of it true? There was no way to tell. But regardless, there was a promise that had been made, and it was a promise that depended on her making it out of here.
Ethan, I'm going to find you. I know you wouldn't have given up yet. Damn it, neither will I.
Bela took a slow breath, standing straight as her amber eyes set themselves upon Kyia and Captain Webb, who had now pulled himself up to the surface. The burly veteran picked up one of the rifles he had, removed the magazine, and checking the chamber of the weapon. A round was still inside.
He swapped the nearly expended magazine out for a fresh one from his belt, inserting it into the gun and ensuring that the safety was still on. "Right. You have handled one of these before?"
Bela was still out of breath as she spoke, "No. I can't say that I have."
He pointed to the selector on the side. "Flip this up to go to semi-automatic. Flip it all the way back for fully-automatic. I suggest you just keep it at the top. You only got thirty-six rounds to spare. I only have one more fresh magazine on my belt, and my pistol is gone too."
There was already a plan in the man's head. He pointed to the clock tower, the top of which peaked over the canal wall. "We hold onto every bullet that we got. If you must pull the trigger, make it count. Otherwise, run as fast as you can."
Bela looked on with parted lips. "What about getting back to your ship?" she inquired, believing that any rational person would not have wanted to venture any deeper into this madness. She knew that she had enforced the path of the carriage, telling him that it would not turn around. He had only hopped aboard for the purpose of survival when Vikcia soon arrived, but there was a feeling of guilt deep within her heart, as it was her will that had brought him further away from his salvation.
Webb's weathered face tightened with a mix of emotions as he considered her question. His eyes, haunted by the memories of his fallen men, softened as he met Bela's gaze. Beyond her, he could still see the images of them being massacred in the streets. There was too much sorrow to be held within him. He had witnessed more loss than any man should have to bear.
"The ship..." he began, his voice carrying the weight of countless regrets. "I have no more men to bring back to it. But you," he said, his eyes lingering on Bela, "you still have someone that can be saved, right?"
Webb's heart weighed heavy with the memories of his fallen comrades, their faces forever instilled in his brain. Each loss was a stab to his soul, a reminder of the sacrifices made in pursuit of a brighter future. They had not fought for glory or conquest, but for the noble ideal of a world free from the grip of evil.
Every man had enlisted in the pursuit of a better tomorrow. A belief in a world where families could thrive without the shadow of fear looming over them.
But now, Webb found himself grappling with the harsh reality of their fate. His brothers-in-arms, the valiant souls who had stood shoulder to shoulder with him, were gone. Their chance to one day see such a future shattered by the merciless onslaught of Vikcia and her unholy minions.
Yet, despite the overwhelming despair that threatened to consume him, Webb refused to yield to hopelessness. Their mission was not yet complete, as there were still lives in need of saving. And if there was even the slightest chance of success, he would not hesitate to seize it with both hands.
With a steely resolve, Webb pledged to carry on the fight, honoring the legacy of his fallen men by continuing to stand against the encroaching darkness. In the face of adversity, it was their unwavering determination to make a difference that defined their true purpose. And as long as there was still breath in his lungs, he would not rest until that mission was fulfilled, even if it meant risking everything in the process.
He would have happily given his life for any one of those boys, but that opportunity was forever lost. The least he could do was give his life for these two women and the person they sought to rescue.
That was a mission worth dying for.
"There's a chance," he continued, his tone reflective of the odds stacked against them, "a slim one, but a chance nonetheless. We can make it to the clock tower. I estimate it to only be about two miles from our position. If we run there and run fast, I think we can pull this through."
Kyia eyed Captain Webb skeptically as he outlined the audacious plan to make it to the clock tower. A hint of apprehension shadowed her features. "Two miles?" she questioned his seemingly dangerous plan, her voice laced with frustration. "We're not just dealing with infected people. Vikcia's out there, and you've seen what she's capable of. Running blindly through the streets is just suicide. The moment your head pops over that wall, she will take it off."
Captain Webb met Kyia's gaze, but before he could respond, Bela interjected, her tone carrying a subtle urgency. "Wait, before we charge into this, there's something you need to know." She shifted the bag on her shoulder and produced one of the fragments.
Webb's brow pinched in confusion as he saw the shard, which glimmered with the faintest of glows from inside its crystalline structure. "What is this?"
"They're these metal fragments," Bela explained. "They've been keeping the infected at bay. Somehow, they distort the way they and Vikcia see us. It's like an invisible shield, but it isn't guaranteed. I just think they will be our best bet to make it to the clock tower alive."
Kyia inexplicably let out an exasperated huff. "Why would you show him those?"
"What?" Bela glanced at Kyia, surprised by her response. To her, the fragments were their only hope for survival. She couldn't imagine why Kyia would have responded in such a matter. "What harm is there in that?"
The brunette shook her head with a groan, her palm pressing against her forehead in frustration. She reached down to pick up her bag, containing her share of the fragments. "Two reasons. First, the more each one of us holds, the better. If we divide them, their power may weaken. One might not be enough to keep us hidden from Vikcia's sight."
Her emerald eyes then shifted to the rifle in Webb's hands, curling with resentment. "Second, I don't trust a man with a weapon like that. The last time I mentioned the fragments to someone like you, I was slapped in the face."
Bela handed one of her fragments to Webb regardless of Kyia's protest, her brow furrowing in thought. "And you're suggesting that we just let him run around unprotected?"
Kyia stood straight, her nose slightly raised, as she turned away to sling the bag across her back, drying her dampened gown. "He doesn't have to follow us." Her black skirt clung tightly to her legs, emphasizing her figure. Lifting one foot off the ground, she bent over to twist the water out of the fabric.
"Besides," she stumbled, trying to maintain her balance, "I am in no mood for any of his crude remarks."
Despite everything, Webb chuckled at her pettiness. "You don't strike me as the kind of woman who prefers to get slapped anyway, but I have been wrong before, you know?"
Realizing that her rear had been facing him, Kyia's eyes sharpened as she spun around, pointing her finger accusingly at him. "Excuse me? What does that mean?"
When he didn't respond right away, she got in his face, growing even more irritated as he slung his rifle over his shoulder. "Hello? Look at me when I am speaking to you! What was the nature of that remark?"
Webb ignored her, approaching Bela. Kyia followed, persistent in her demand for answers. "Hey!" She trotted over to his right, determined to have her voice heard. "I know that you can hear me!"
"I can hear you," he replied, not even sparing her a glance as his eyes set on the clock tower. "Now, if you prefer to lower your voice so Vikcia doesn't hear us, I'd appreciate it."
Kyia's brows pinched, but she reluctantly complied, crossing her arms and keeping her eyes on him as they continued walking. "You still haven't explained what the meaning behind that comment was."
"I'll tell you along the way," he said.
"Oh, I thought it wasn't safe to talk," she mockingly retorted, accusing him of hypocrisy.
"We can just whisper in each other's ears the whole time," Webb suggested as they walked along.
Kyia continued to remain close as she followed him, her frustration growing as they approached a ladder leading to the streets above. "With your height, how do you expect me to do that? You make no sense."
"I guess I'll just have to pick you up and carry you," Webb replied, causing Kyia to stop in her tracks.
With her eyebrow raised and her lips parted, the slender brunette stood frozen, her fingers curling in front of her stomach. She immediately went to work on fixing her semi-tucked blouse. "I can walk just fine by myself," she muttered under her breath. "Bastard…"
As Captain Webb ascended the steps, his eyes drifted downward to the canal below. With a heavy breath, he closed his lids for a fleeting moment, still grappling with the weight of loss that bore down on him. Lieutenant Patterson, his most trusted friend, was gone, as was every other man whom he was entrusted to lead. The decimation of his entire company had left a great wound in the center of the warrior's heart, one that seemed to bleed with each painful step forward.
It took every ounce of strength within him to resist the overwhelming urge that perhaps it would have been easier to end it all. His rifle was right against him. One pull of the trigger, and his pain would all be over.
The events had unfolded with brutal swiftness, leaving Webb grappling with the sudden, gut-wrenching loss of everyone he held dear. With every passing second, the man was still attempting to comprehend what had gone down.
If he ever managed to return to the shores of his homeland, Webb wondered if he would ever be able to piece his shattered life back together. Serpenmoor, with its untold horrors and relentless onslaught of death, had exacted a toll far beyond what he could have ever imagined. Yet, as he climbed, he knew that there were far greater stakes at play.
The chilling question that gnawed at the core of his being was one that he could not stop asking himself now: if this plague were to spread beyond the confines of Serpenmoor, what devastation would it unleash upon the world? It was a thought that sent shivers down his spine, a stark reminder of the dire importance of their mission.
Webb had to hold himself together, not just for the sake of the two women who now depended on him, but for the rest of the planet. The weight of responsibility pressed down upon his shoulders, a constant reminder of the duty that lay before him, one that may be his final assignment. He had never expected to be thrust at the forefront of a battle against an otherworldly plague, but like the battles of his past, it came with an objective.
Vikcia needed to be stopped at all costs.
.
Ethan's attempt at escape had been foiled as soon as Vikcia had returned to her domain. In her haste to reignite the nightfall and be able to leave to feed, she had neglected to secure the man in any sort of fashion. Thankfully, for her, the only entrance that could be accessed was to be found on the roof—the same opening that she had used when she brought him here.
The rest of the doors were locked shut from the opposite end, while others were blocked with stacks of mutilated bodies that no single man could overcome on his own. Coupled with the darkness and the putrid smell, it forced her prisoner to back away and try to find a different means of freedom.
When she returned with the corpse of the man who she had killed on top of the carriage, the first thing that she noticed was Ethan frantically running around in circles. That all came to a halt the moment she flew in and dropped the newest corpse on the ground. Forming just feet away, a vicious hiss rattled out from under her throat, sending him scurrying back into a corner.
"Jesus Christ!" he shouted at her, his eyes glued to the corpse with the smashed skull. However, as soon as his sights studied the lower section of the dead man, Ethan noticed a pistol still in its holster. Guns had never proven themselves effective against the witch, but he recalled the impact that one of his bullets had on her when she had been exposed to the light.
Since he was trapped in here, he figured that the best opportunity that he had to put an end to Vikcia was by attacking her when she least expected it. It was a fleeting hope, as he was never certain of what his fate would be. She had not killed him yet, but her tolerance for his presence was slowly draining. She grew angrier every time he spoke to her.
He'd have to play his cards right if he was to make it out of here.
Vikcia's dark cloak had faded away from her body, revealing her nude figure as she bent down and tore the left hand off the corpse. Her bloodied mouth practically salivated at the sight of it. She broke out with a giggle and a smile as the scent of fresh meat entered her nostrils.
Ethan wouldn't stay quiet. "You didn't bring any food for me?"
Her black eyes lifted at him, as if he had disturbed her enthusiasm with his remark. However, in a strange turn of events, Vikcia tossed the hand at him. The severed end landed at Ethan's feet as he moved further back, only to bump into several more of the rotten corpses behind him. The man nearly gagged at the sight of it, horrified that she had actually taken him seriously.
"I'm not fucking eating that," he told her.
In an unusual display of contempt, Vikcia's dark brows pinched over her pale face, and her shadowy lips curled in a displeased curve. "Then starve," she said, before she dragged the dead soldier away with one arm. Nestled in her own little spot, the witch bit down into his leg and began to eat, but as she did, her eyes would occasionally peer back at Ethan.
She was still contemplating what to do with him.
.
It had been almost an hour since Vikcia had returned. The hunger that propelled her desire to continue eating had resulted in the total devourment of the corpse's lower half, his gun and belt having been thrown somewhere far away during the process. The heaps of blood and muscles that poured into her stomach would be immediately digested and converted into energy, leaving a persistent yearning for sustenance in its wake. She was hardly ever full, but the feast that she had just enjoyed would keep her stable, for the time being.
With nothing else to occupy her, Vikcia had chosen to spend her time rolling around atop the tallest mountain of corpses that was to be found inside her den. Stretching against the decayed flesh, the demon appeared to be in utter bliss as she inhaled the sweet aroma of the rot that surrounded her. This was the essence of what kept her happy.
Every time she saw something that was alive, she needed to put an end to it. When she did, then the body would undergo the process of decomposition. The wonderful scents of degradation would emerge, festering in the air as they signaled the end of life. The flow of fresh blood through a living body was detested by her. Once her prey was killed, the precious fluids inside could finally go stale, absent of oxygen, which salted its taste. She saw their lives as a curse, and to end it meant helping them.
She yearned to be able to frolic across the vast mountains of mushy flesh and assorted bones that she was so accustomed to. This city held so many people, and she was certain that even after these last few months, there were sure to be some survivors still lingering about. The influx of soldiers that had just entered the place would make a great addition to the collection of the dead.
Vikcia debated how she would set about collecting as many of their remains as she could, given that the rest of her freed souls were likely still feeding on them. She planned to leave the clock tower again soon, but all her hunting had driven her to exhaustion.
She just wanted to rest.
Laying across the murdered citizens under her, Vikcia laid her head back as she glanced at Ethan, still trying to decide his fate. His blood was lifeless to her, which offered the perfect feeding opportunity, but his living motions continued to perplex her mind.
How could someone still walk after death, she wondered?
A quite giggle flowed out of her lips as her thoughts inevitably drifted off. It was always so hard to remain focused on one task when it wasn't about food. More often than not, her brain was host to a revolving door of concerns and images. Ideas and things jumped in and out of her head, subdued only by her favorite hobby, singing.
The melodies she sang would suppress the unending barrage in her head. It brought her a form of peace that she could not explain. It was almost as if it was a link to a life forgotten long ago.
Vikcia's attention then turned to the fresh corpse of the fallen soldier that lay on the ground at the foot of the mound of death. One of her claws pulled at the rim of her lip as she stared at it aimlessly. Her boredom had reached its peak, but her stress had risen higher than expected. She wanted a cure for both—her primal needs were still alive and well within her.
.
Ethan, on the opposite side of the room, watched in disgust as Vikcia continued to gyrate on top of the crushed face of the dead soldier. She had been going at it for a little while, ignoring his vocalized disgust at the act. He had witnessed many unnatural things, but what he was seeing now took the prize in this wicked contest.
With both her talons dragging upwards across her body, Vikcia tilted her head towards the ceiling as the center of her hips continued to mash against the bloodied remains. Her claws cupped her breasts for a moment, then reached higher as they pulled through her strands of black hair. Those darkened lips split into a smile as she breathed heavily with those raspy moans of hers.
Ethan could not even stare at her any longer. "Get me the fuck out of here," he said out loud, as if his request would somehow be honored.
Vikcia's motions continued, gaining speed as her left hand pressed against the ground. The sounds of her breaths became irregular, as if she were withholding them to concentrate on what she felt. The motions of her body reached a climax as she pressed harder against the ridges of the obliterated skull. The scraping of her talons against the stone floor was heard as her fingers curled inward.
A final, long-winded breath capped off her release before she crawled off the dead man and sat down beside him. Through her relaxed and parted lips, she let out a series of clicks in her humming voice as she peered down between her legs. There was a copious amount of blood that had been smeared across them.
Her forefingers ran through the opening between her limbs, sliding in and out as she gathered some of the sanguine fluid, only to bring it up to her lips. A quick sampling of the aftermath invigorated her tastebuds, and she continued to pry for more blood as she sat there.
That was when her attention turned back to Ethan, spotting him in the corner of the room. The witch paused as she contemplated what to do next. Her eyes shifted toward the man who she had killed on that carriage with a blow to the head, understanding that he was to serve only as food in dire times such as this. However, her perversion of his purpose signaled that she needed more than satiated hunger.
She glanced back at Ethan again, reminding herself that he was not alive, either. A thought birthed in her head, and she found herself curious about the abilities of someone such as him.
There was a slight conflict in her heart as she considered the ramifications of what she might do. A being like her revolted at the touch of the living, as only the dead made sense. Yet, in the absence of anyone like her in this strange new world, she would cling to the life she knew.
Ethan was the closest thing to any of that.
Vikcia's approach was slow and deliberate as she shortened the gap between them, prowling closer to Ethan with a deliberate poise. Her eyes glimmered with a desire that sent a chill down his spine, yet he found himself paralyzed, unable to move away. Each step she took seemed to echo in the chamber, bringing a rising sense of fear to her impending approach.
Ethan could feel the heat radiating from her body as she crawled in front of him. Her lips curled into a signature twisted smile as she reached out, while his muscles tensed as her clammy arms wrapped around him. Her breath, foul with the stench of decay, washed over him as she leaned in, her mouth opening until they connected.
When Vikcia's lips met his, Ethan recoiled instinctively, his mind reeling with horror at the thought of her touch. But Vikcia pressed closer, her grip tightening on his shoulders as she sought to claim him. Ethan struggled against her hold, but it was as if he were trapped in a nightmare, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated.
As Vikcia's tongue slipped past his lips, Ethan's stomach churned with revulsion, the taste of death lingering in the back of his throat. The presence of two or three stray maggots was detected along her gums. Her embrace was the single most disgusting thing that he had ever ingested. The woman's body reeked of pure rot, accumulated through a lifetime of nurturing the dead.
He had to break free. As her claws interlocked behind his head and her legs widened over his hips, Ethan pushed against her chest, desperate to escape her grasp, but she only tightened her grip, her nails digging into his shoulders as her hands lowered.
With a surge of adrenaline, Ethan pushed back with all his strength, finally disconnecting her from him. "Fuck off!" He crawled backward, his heart pounding under his sternum as he tried to put as much distance between them as possible. But Vikcia was visibly frustrated, her eyes burning with a fierce rage as she advanced on him once more.
Before Ethan could fully comprehend what had just happened, Vikcia retaliated with a savage bite, sinking her teeth into his right shoulder with a feral growl. Pain shot through Ethan's body as he cried out, only for the demon to press her talons harder against his muscles and bones. She could have sliced him apart in an instant, but this appeared to be the first time that she had ever deliberately inflicted pain without the quick release of death to follow.
Vikcia thrashed him around like a lion before she recoiled, her lips curling back in a snarl after she released her hold on the man, only to grab him by his throat with one hand, the other one poised to strike him. With her teeth dripping with blood, she stared at him with animosity, her eyes glinting with the fire of unbridled anger. Ethan knew that there was no way to get rid of her. The woman's strength was far beyond his own.
She could crush him in an instant if she wished. The noxious odor from this vast room of death pounded his senses left and right. He was weak, drained of the ability to withstand it. The taste she had injected in him made him want to vomit, but he could not do so, which only kept the vile scent cemented in his mouth and lungs. His headache grew worse, and for a moment, he believed with all his heart that his suffering had only just begun.
It all hit him at once. The trauma of the loss of his wife and the theft of his child. His arrival into this forsaken realm, having to contend with every horror that it had to unleash. And now, his imprisonment in the domain of the most monstrous being he had ever encountered, and the way she had violated him.
Her latest act was the final straw. Ethan had finally reached his breaking point.
Tears welled up under his eyes as his defenses dropped. "Fuck you, you disgusting bitch," he whimpered. "Just fucking kill me already."
She only watched as his sadness overwhelmed him.
His sobbing continued. "I can't take it anymore. I can't."
It was then that her tense brow lifted, and her black lips parted with a glimmer of concern. She had witnessed tears before. Countless numbers of tears. But they were always from those of the living, beings of which her very nature compelled her to fix. She believed that she was doing them a favor by killing them, as reaching death was the attainment of peace within the body. No more pain.
There was no thought put into how the living felt as she freed them, as such emotions were but hollow calls to her ears. She took no pleasure in what she did, but she saw their ends as beneficial to both of them. But as she held Ethan in her hand, seeing his tears and hearing his words, she picked up on the anguish he felt.
To her, these were the cries of a dead man, and she was responsible for them.
Her anger at his rejection faded, now contending with the reality that she may have done something wrong. She let go of his throat and watched him as he sank to the ground, covering his face. Vikcia tilted her head, the echoes of his restrained wails ringing in the back of her ears.
It felt like there was a part of her nature that was accustomed to remedying such things. She could not think about it too deeply, but it was almost as if she had experience in the matter. Just like when she would walk past the churches of this world, a reminder of memories that she did not recall would stir in her, feeling a familiarity with someone so unknown. The more she listened to Ethan break down, the greater the feeling of guilt grew.
She knelt at his side, reaching out and gracing the edge of his shoulder with her bloodied talons. Ethan jolted as soon as he felt her touch, fearing what she would do to him next. As soon as he moved, her hand retracted at once. Through her raspy voice, she spoke out to him, "Did I do something wrong?"
"You're fucking insane!" Ethan shouted as he tried to shuffle away, but there was nowhere else to go. Whether Vikcia understood her actions or not did not matter. If so, then it only made her more dangerous. The end result was still the same, regardless.
He yelled at her again, "Take your fucking claws and cut my throat, just like you've done to all these other people! I'd rather be dead…" Ethan stopped only to gag when the putrid odors swept into his throat. "I'd rather be dead than live in this world with you! Just kill me and send me home!"
He would say nothing more, as the memories of the family that he would never see again flooded in his brain. Vikcia only stared at him for a little longer before her body dissipated into a cloud of shadows and flew back onto the mountain of corpses that she so often loved laying on.
When she reformed, the woman laid on her stomach, her arms crossed under her head as her eyes studied the room around her. She had brought all these dead bodies in, hoping to replicate the environment that she once thrived in. A place of total darkness, where the light could never shine, and where the pain of the living would not exist.
It had been a couple of months, and no matter how many corpses she brought into this room, it would never change the fact that she was no longer in her world.
Vikcia sighed as she buried the side of her head against her forearms. When her eyelids closed, her mouth opened, and she spoke a singular word. It was a reflection of not just Ethan's desires, but those of her own, a reminder that neither of them were happy.
"Home…"
NOTES:
One more chapter closer to the end. Sorry for the posting delay! The server outage yesterday hindered my chance to share this one.
I wanted to use this one to establish our characters just a bit further, Webb in particular, as well as shine a little bit of extra light on Bela's past with Edith. For Webb, I want to present him as a man on the brink of his breaking point. His calm demeanor is only a front, as he is truly left defeated after what Vikcia had done. But for the sake of Bela and Kyia, he is still putting up a good fight.
As for Bela, the scene with Edith is not to be taken too intensely. It's left open-ended for many reasons, but I wanted to close off her character in some ways. Her words do hint at some things, but this story won't answer every question, hence the importance of all three in this series.
Now, regarding Ethan, he's really not doing well at all. He's not invincible, nor is his will. Having to be subjected to Vikcia's impulses knocked apart the last few pieces that were holding him together. He can't take it anymore.
Now Vikcia's actions are up to interpretation at the end. Comparing her to Malcolm, I think she was only acting on her innermost urges without the concept that it would lead to this. With Ethan not being technically "alive" in her mind, she sees him as something like her, hence the "dead, like me" statement she made some chapters ago. His reaction opens up her dealing with the idea that she genuinely harmed someone, humanizing her with the regret of her actions.
There is more to Vikcia than we know, but how much will we learn before this is all over?
Things are about to heat up one final time as this story heads to its final destination – the clock tower.
Also, follow this story on Archive of Our Own to check out the latest artwork!
There are just a few chapters left until this all concludes. I hope you all are enjoying it so far. I'm looking forward to revealing the third installment when this is over. We're just weeks away from that moment, but until then, I'm looking forward to seeing you all here. Have a great weekend, and stay safe out there! I wish you all the best! 😊
See you Friday!