With the lock to the clock tower entrance blasted to pieces, the three quickly began to get to work, ensuring that the infected would not be able to enter. The once fortified doors were now useless unless they could be barricaded. The interior of the structure was completely devoid of light, which meant that they had to rely on the illumination from the moon above that shone through the cracks of the doorway to guide them.
"Hurry!" Bela said to the others as she began to grab at a nearby table. "We need to block this door!" Webb and Kyia followed suit, seeing how the horde was still advancing on them. They would be at the entrance in about ten minutes, which left just enough time to build up a defense.
Unfortunately, the light from the outside world would only stretch so far into the building, forcing them to feel around until they collided with something large. If the object could be moved by a single person, then it was hauled over. After just several minutes, three tables and two shelves had been brought to stand behind the doors. The items were hardly hefty, serving to only keep the entrance together. A short test of their strength revealed that the infected could bypass it if they tried hard enough.
The blonde gazed at the pathetic results of their ambition. She knew that they needed to get away from there, but in the abyss of the darkness, they would not know where to turn. That was when she got another idea.
Ethan's coat! It's still in my bag! Maybe he might have something that could give us some light in here!
With that, she quickly unslung the bag from her back and sat it down on the ground. The fabric was still drenched from the earlier plunge into the canal, and she feared that the contents inside would have fared just about the same. Sadly, as her hand reached in to inspect it, the coat itself was damp as hell.
Damn it!
Bela's hands shook as she fumbled through Ethan's coat pockets, her fingers searching desperately for anything that could aid them in their plight. The dim light filtering through the cracks in the door provided little illumination, but she pressed on, her determination to prevail overtaking her.
Finally, her fingers closed around something flat, rimmed with a familiar assortment of sticks inside. With a quick tug, she pulled it free from the pocket and held it up to the faint light. A box of matches. Relief flooded through her as she realized the potential of her discovery.
"Webb, give me that chair leg," she said. The captain wasted no time in complying, kicking off one from a nearby stool that was in view and handing it to her. With a swift motion, Bela used her sickle to cut loose a long piece of a banner, tying it securely to the end of the makeshift torch with a metal coil that she yanked out of a broken fixture.
As she struggled to get the match to light, her heartbeat grew as loud as ever. The bottom of the packet was sodden from the moisture, and she feared that they might not catch fire. Bela's anxiety sparked in lieu of the match that she hoped to ignite. If this didn't work out, then the horde would arrive soon, and they would all be left to fight in the dark.
She struck the head of the driest match against the pad over and over, imagining the creatures closing in at any given moment now. After several more strikes, a small flame flickered to life, casting a tiny glow in the darkness.
Yes!
The burning match was pressed against the fabric, creating a larger flame that illuminated the entire room. With the torch held above, Bela surveyed their surroundings. The entrance lobby of the clock tower was now on full display, but there was no time to explore. They needed to get on to the next part of their route, and she didn't know where to begin.
"Wait, Kyia!" Bela called out to the brunette. "Do you know where the fragments might be kept?"
Searching around the room, Kyia paused for a second as her green eyes glimmered near the light. "I haven't been here in such a long time." Her attention then shifted to something past Bela's shoulder, noticing a sign posted on the wall that appeared to display the various locations within the tall structure. "Aha! But… I think that doesn't matter!"
The brunette hurried over to the sign, scanning it with her finger, looking for the name of any place that would make sense. It didn't take long before her slender finger finally landed on something. "Overseer's Quarters," Kyia announced. "That's where the fragments are kept," she said, her eyes then turning upward toward the ceiling. "But if they're there, then Vikcia won't be far behind."
Webb's brow furrowed with concern as he listened to the information. "How far up do we have to go?" With the almost nonexistent supply of ammunition and weapons that they had left at their disposal, he wasn't certain just how much farther their resources would carry them.
"To the very top," Kyia replied, much to his disappointment. "Behind the clock faces."
Webb let out a short sigh as he nodded his head and shouldered his rifle once again. "Well, can't blame a man for gambling on fate, I suppose. It's always the top of the mountain, so why not the top of the fucking clock tower, am I right?"
He spit out a brief laugh to cap it off, centering his weapon on the nearby stairs. "Guess we best be going, then. I'll take the lead. Kyia, if you don't mind staying in the middle, I'd have Bela cover the rear."
Bela handed Kyia the torch as soon as the plan was laid out. With the light now behind him, the man set off into the unknown, taking his first steps upon the shallow metal surface under his feet. He had practiced this kind of run numerous times before. Seldon had he ever had to use it, often fighting wars on the open ground. But through all the years, he never once thought that some of his training wouldn't come in handy one day.
No day like today, he thought.
As they ascended the creaky staircase, each step echoed through the tall building, endlessly reminding them of just how easily they could be discovered. Glancing up ahead, it soon became apparent that this staircase was one long, continuous unit, surely reaching up to the highest level.
It zig-zagged all the way through, setting the three on a repetitive course of moving back and forth. As they ascended, the presence of multiple doors on each subsequent level was not to be ignored. Bela wondered if there were more infected that could be waiting to strike at any given moment. There was no way to tell for certain unless they opened them, but with time being of the essence, she chose not to pursue such cautions.
It gnawed at her consciousness, however, as the fear of what would happen if they got cornered on the stairs by multiple groups of those monsters played in her head. She tried to maintain her focus, keeping her bearing set only on making it to the top.
Ethan had to still be alive, she hoped. It couldn't just end with nothing.
Even if it did, they still had one final objective: Vikcia.
I'm going to set this right. It all ends up there.
.
Kyia's torch continued to guide them as it cast its swaying flame over their heads. The light illuminated the occasional patches of dust that coated their surroundings. Webb seemed to grow nervous in the presence of the substance. He knew the kind of dangers that it presented and how it was connected to the witch who had started this catastrophe.
If the dust got too large, he wouldn't be certain just how much higher he could proceed, but there would be no stopping now. Whether or not there was an insurmountable obstacle in his path, he wouldn't know until he got there.
Webb glanced over at Bela. "How effective are the fragments at shielding us from Vikcia and her dust?"
Bela furrowed her brow, unsure of how she would explain it. "It's hard to say," she replied, her tone weary of what else she could tell him. "They seem to work for the most part, but if they're hit or miss, then Vikcia may be able to see through them. Even with one nearby, she still found Ethan and me."
Kyia nodded in agreement. "We can't rely on them completely," she added. "As for the dust, they won't do anything. If you breathe it in, you're one of them."
"How did you two manage to stay alive for so long?"
Kyia was the first to answer. "I was lucky enough to find a shelter. I stayed there since this all started."
Bela took a breath and rolled her lip. She had a little extra truth to divulge, and for the sake of understanding, she wanted Webb to know about it. "Ethan, who is also from my world, and I... have a special quality about us. I think it's the reason why her dust hasn't turned us. Trust me, we have been exposed to it on numerous occasions."
"How so?" Webb's head tilted over his shoulder.
"We both died and came back to life, in different ways, and yet, we were still kind of dead," she admitted, albeit somewhat casually. "She can't change us into one of those things down there, but that doesn't mean she can't kill us. And trust me, she has tried before, on numerous occasions, too."
Kyia paused, expanding her chest with a deep breath, before she exhaled slowly, lowering her shoulders in the process. "So," she said in a quiet tone, "I guess there is some weight to Ethan's stories after all. That would explain why his injuries seemed to heal almost instantly."
Bela nodded as she turned around to glance at the brunette. "I believe so, Kyia."
She took another breath. "He also mentioned you being able to turn into a cloud of flies at one point in your world. Would that be true as well?"
"I'm afraid so," she replied, only to correct herself right after. "Or it was, but not any longer."
Webb lowered his rifle and rotated his body to gaze at the two women behind him. The man's thick eyebrows were raised to the top of his forehead, and his mouth was left agape in wonder. With a low grunt, he closed his wide jaw and shook his head. "The next thing you're going to tell me is that there is a fishman in your world."
The blonde let out a tiny giggle. "Actually…"
"I've said enough!" Webb grunted again, having had his fill of these strange realms for the day.
Kyia then leaned in with great curiosity in her eyes as she brought her mouth to Bela's ear. "A fishman?!" she whispered.
"You wouldn't like him," Bela cautioned.
"I must take notes while I can," she mused.
Webb continued moving ahead. "So, you're immune from the dust, but not immune to Vikcia's claws?"
"Correct," Bela answered.
"In that case," he said, reaching into his pocket to withdraw the small fragment that she had given him. "I think it's best that you stay out of her sights as we go forward." Bela's eyes widened in surprise as he held out the fragment to her, his expression absolute. "Take this."
Bela was shocked to see it held at her, unwilling to accept Webb placing himself at risk of being detected. "No! That's yours. I don't want you to get killed," she desperately argued. "You must keep it."
But Webb shook his head, his resolve unwavering. "I can't," he firmly insisted. "You need to be prepared for whatever comes next. If she has even the slightest chance of seeing me, then I'd rather you have twice the chance of not being seen."
"But that's not fair to you," she pleaded, only to see his face adopt a sly grin.
"The only fair fight is the one you lose," he told her as he brought the fragment closer. "You have your mission to fulfill. See to it that you use every advantage that you have."
With a heavy heart, Bela reached out and accepted the fragment from him, her fingers gently closing in on it. She knew that arguing further would be futile, but she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach.
Webb may have just signed his own death warrant, but the man didn't seem to care.
.
Vikcia had been watching Ethan for a little while, taking in the low whimpers that occasionally escaped his throat. At the same time, her hunger began to rise, signaling that she needed to go hunting for some more food. The witch knew the call of temptation all too well. She felt like she should have brought more fresh corpses back into her den, but her haste to get back after the carriage chase had caused her to only take one, as the rest were likely consumed by all those freed souls.
Her stomach continued to churn. She needed to feast.
As she descended from her perch atop the mountain of corpses, Ethan quickly became alarmed with the anticipation of her arrival, his fear growing with each step she took. He couldn't shake the image of her looming over him, her bloodied talons reaching out to claim him once more.
What would she do this time? Even worse, how would she act if she didn't get what she wanted?
But to his surprise, she made no move towards him, instead beginning to sing to herself in that haunting melody that echoed through the large room. It was her signature tune, one that always heralded her arrival. She was engrossed in her song, humming various verses that allowed her voice to break away from its raspy nature.
It was so strange how beautifully human she sounded.
But despite her siren-esque talent, Ethan's stomach churned as he watched her tear into the flesh of the dead man, whose body she had desecrated earlier with her perverse sexual acts. Against his disgust, he still couldn't tear his eyes away from the grisly scene unfolding before him. He wondered just how she could revert to acting like such a mindless animal after performing such an intricate symphony.
It was one of the great mysteries of this foul woman.
As Vikcia engulfed more of the dead flesh from the fallen soldier, she unexpectedly broke from her meal, only to peek her pitch-black eyes at Ethan. "It's torturous," she said between bites, her words dripping with some form of discontent. "To not eat."
Ethan recoiled at the sound of her voice, his revulsion evident in the way he curled up into himself. "You're a monster," he spat, his words laced with venom, hoping to sour her mood to any extent. "A vile, disgusting creature." He wanted to hammer in the belief that she was wrong for everything that she did. Even if she were to kill him right now, at least his words would hopefully stay with her forever.
But Vikcia seemed to pay his insults no mind; her focus was solely on sating her hunger. And as she continued to eat, Ethan couldn't help but feel a sense of despair wash over him. Trapped in this nightmare with a creature he couldn't begin to understand, he knew that escape was nearly impossible. All he could do was endure, hoping against hope that somehow, someway, he would find a way out of this hellish existence.
"That's a person you're eating," he shouted to her. "Somebody who had a family, but your fucking hunger is just too important, isn't it? You just take and take, fucking monster." As Ethan's insults continued to pour forth, Vikcia's tolerance wore thin.
With a sharp glance, she silenced him with a single word: "Quiet."
But Ethan paid her warning no heed, his anger fueling his defiance. He hurled more insults at her with utter recklessness, aware that he was once again chipping away at her patience. So be it, he thought. If death came for him now, then he would no longer have to suffer here.
After listening to his tirade, Vikcia finished her meal before she rose to her feet and approached him. His heart raced with adrenaline as she drew near, his eyes fixated on her bloodied talons, only to fall onto her semi-curvaceous form. The twisted semblance of a woman from a bygone world. She could smell her as she got closer, recalling the foulness that she exuded when her body connected with his.
But defying all expectations, Vikcia's expression softened as she kneeled next to him, meeting his gaze with an expression of humanity that caught him off guard. She spoke to him in a voice that was surprisingly gentle, though raspy as usual. "Eating clears my head. I want to speak to you with one."
As Ethan struggled to contain his emotions, tears welled up in his eyes once more, betraying the facade of strength he tried to maintain. He had been through so much, and to him, there was no more use in fighting for an act that no audience would believe. Vikcia noticed his distress and, in a gesture that took him by surprise, extended one of her talons to gently wipe away one of his tears.
For a moment, Ethan was stunned, his mind reeling at the unexpected act of kindness from the creature before him. But his guard quickly returned, as he still couldn't trust her. Who was to say that it wasn't another sadistic ploy? It could have just been a means to lower him into a false sense of security, where he would hopefully comply with whatever cruel act she wished to embark upon next.
"Why won't you just kill me?" Ethan whimpered.
Vikcia's confusion was evident as she considered his question, her brow furrowing in thought. "You're dead. My work is not needed," she replied, abiding by the rules of her strange existence, which saw life as some sort of virus that needed to be eradicated.
Ethan's frustration mounted at her evasive response, and he shook his head in disbelief. "I'm not dead, like you," he insisted, his voice trembling with emotion. "I'm not something that preys on innocent people."
Vikcia regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and confusion, processing his words. She had been trying to find the answer to Ethan and Bela ever since she saw that they were immune to her dust. He had spoken to her numerous times before, but she never paid attention due to her mind being clouded by the belief that he was just like the rest of the people here.
Now that she knew his body carried qualities of the deceased, she had opened her thoughts to what he had to say. Beyond his insults and pleas for death, some of his words reached her in ways that she never expected. His latest sentence was what stirred in her head the most and got her thinking about things that she had not considered, nor did she have the answer for, to begin with.
"What... am I then?" she asked softly.
But Ethan had no answer for her. All he could do was look at her and shrug his shoulders, knowing that nothing he said would ever be encouraging. But within her question, he finally saw a glimmer of opportunity in Vikcia's softened demeanor. This might be his chance to reason with her, to appeal to whatever humanity still lingered within her soul.
"I need you to stop the creatures in the city," Ethan implored with desperation. "You have to put an end to this."
Vikcia tilted her head with a slight look of pity. "I don't control them," she explained. "I saved them, and their lives are their own. You're safe here."
Ethan's heart sank at her words, realizing that there was no going back for those affected by her plague. Still, he could not ignore what she had said. Safe? Is that why she brought him here?
"What are you going to do to me?" he asked.
With parted lips, Vikcia stared at the bite wound that she had inflicted on his shoulder. He still bled like someone who was alive, but the scent of his blood spoke otherwise. "I want to learn more about you."
"Can you bring me and Bela back to our world?" Ethan pleaded, hoping that this spark of gentleness would persuade the demon to end this struggle once and for all.
"Your world?" She raised an eyebrow behind her messy strands of black hair. "You're not from here?"
He almost regretted having said that to her, fearing that she may end up pursuing the same kind of destruction on Earth. But what's done was done, he concluded. The most he could do now was aim for a positive outcome. "We were pulled into this world. You don't need to keep us here."
"It is not my doing," she told him, which ignited a flurry of questions that he needed to ask. But before he could do so, Ethan noticed a subtle change in her demeanor. A manic gleam entered her eyes, and she began to giggle softly to herself, her smile broadening with each bob of her head.
But just as quickly as it had come, the laughter faded, replaced by a look of frustration and anguish. Vikcia's hands trembled as she reached for a piece of raw flesh, tearing into it to satisfy her appetite.
"Not now," she muttered under her breath, seemingly talking to herself. "Go away."
Ethan watched in silence as Vikcia wrestled with her inner temptations, torn between her insatiable hunger and her desire for conversation. She dug into the meat that was before her, chomping down on it until her face was stained with blood. She did not appear to eat for fun but only consumed the remains to curb her psychotic episode and resume a steady train of thought.
He would have thought that she was the perfect example of a monster, but after what he had witnessed from her, she seemed to be struggling with her own qualities. A part of her that she didn't agree with.
Vikcia sighed as she swallowed the next strip of crimson flesh. "It doesn't stop."
Before Ethan could formulate a response, Vikcia's demeanor shifted once again. Her head snapped downward, her senses alerting her to something unseen by human eyes. Ethan watched as the woman's expression grew tense with a mixture of hunger and compulsion. Whatever she had just fought to suppress had suddenly regained control—with vengeance.
"What's happening?" Ethan worriedly asked, uncertain of what would come next.
But Vikcia was lost in the grip of her own dark mind. She rose to her feet, her movements akin to those of the animal she so often was. Shadows rose up from all around her, creating a large cloud of dust that billowed from her back.
"There's someone... I need to set free," Vikcia responded, her smile and cackle suddenly returning. She lowered herself onto her hands, sniffing at the ground, likely picking up the trail of whoever it was that she was now tracking.
Ethan reached out to her. "Vikcia, please, don't do this," he pleaded, but his words fell on deaf ears. All she would do was turn her dark eyes at him for a moment, those white circles glancing at him with a gloomy stare. It was like she wanted to stay, but she had no choice.
She began to mutter to herself, "So hungry."
"Vikcia!"
Her singing resumed, but it quickly fell flat. It would be of no use. There was someone inside this tower. Someone alive. Her job was not finished, and she knew what she had to do.
With a sudden rush of movement, Vikcia's form dispersed into a large plume of dust, swirling around Ethan before dissipating into the cracks in the floors and walls. Left alone in the eerie silence of the clock tower, the man could only sit there alone, leaving behind nothing but questions destined to remain unanswered.
Was he just on the cusp of a breakthrough?
Even more so, who was it that was in here?
.
Bela, Kyia, and Webb continued their ascent on the narrow stair system. With each creak beneath their feet, the trio moved cautiously, their eyes moving all around as they searched for anything that hid in the shadows. The brunette kept a tight grip on the torch, its flame offering only a faint view of the next level above them.
They had to have been nearly halfway up the clock tower by now, Bela thought, but there was no way to tell for sure. The coating of dust gradually increased as they moved up, creating greater unease in Webb's movement. Kyia appeared unphased, but that wasn't to say that she didn't take precaution. The woman had pulled out a small rag from the inside of her bag, wrapping it around her wrist so that it might be there if she needed it.
Webb broke the silence, his eyes slightly above the sights of his rifle. "What's the plan when we reach the top?"
Bela spoke to him as she covered the rear, watching intently for the first sign of trouble. "We believe Vikcia may have a large assortment of the fragments at the top," she explained. "They could hold the key to stopping all this."
Kyia nodded in agreement, chiming in to detail it some more. "And we need to find a way to turn the lights back on," she added. "That's the only way we'll be able to finally injure her."
"Where did these fragments come from?" he inquired.
Kyia hesitated, her gaze momentarily distant, as she debated informing him about her knowledge of the other realms. But it would be Bela who stepped in to provide an answer.
"They're part of a dagger from another world," the blonde explained, once again to the woman's annoyance. "A weapon that was somehow able to cut through the barriers."
"Is that how you and Ethan ended up in my world?" he asked Bela, his tone carrying the intrigue that had been birthed in his mind.
Bela shook her head, even though he was not looking at her. "I'm not sure. We're still trying to piece together what happened. We were pulled in by a bright light, and then that was it."
Kyia interjected. "I've been studying the stories of the dagger for a long time," she remarked with confidence. "Out of all my research, an event like this has never happened before. It is not written in any book. No one has ever crossed into a different realm. Not until now."
Turning to Bela, Webb posed a more personal question. "Is Ethan the person you always fight for?"
Bela's expression softened, thinking back to the moments that they shared with one another before he was taken, as well as the day they first met. "He saved me," she confessed, imagining herself still a slave to Alcina Dimitrescu, forced to inherit the same evil that woman unleashed on everyone below her. "I used to be someone so much worse."
Webb nodded, taking her response for what it was. The way she spoke her words hinted at the deep-rooted troubles fostered over the course of her life. This was not the time to discuss them, nor was he the person best-suited to speak to her about it. As far as he understood, that man was not too far away.
"And what about you?" He turned his attention to Kyia.
Kyia's eyes tensed up, almost as if she were dreading him addressing her in the midst of this conversation. "The person I fought for died long ago," she replied sternly. "Let us not speak about this further, shall we?"
"I take it that you were a mother?" Webb's comment left her frozen as she stopped walking. The group paused as the man turned around to look at her. He could see the disdain in those emerald eyes. That flare to her brow and that sharp scowl across a naturally beautiful face.
Kyia did not say a single word, only staring him down, as if to tell him that he was treading on dangerous waters. At the same time, her expression only confirmed his assumption.
Bela, meanwhile, stood silent as she watched the exchange unfold. It wasn't her place to speak for Kyia in this regard. That was her past. Her burden to carry.
Webb sighed as he looked down at his rifle. "I've watched a lot of mothers cradle their dead children in their arms. Sometimes myself and my men didn't get there on time."
"You can stop talking now," Kyia said, unwilling to touch upon the subject of her deceased daughter.
He let out a sigh as he ran his hand through his hair, his eyelids slowly lowering. "You give it away in the way that you look, you know? That bitterness you carry is the same kind that my late wife had after we lost ours. All those dead kids, but my little Benjamin..."
A shuddering breath inflated his lungs. "That's what hit me the hardest. I should have been there when it happened, but I was on the other side of the world, watching somebody else's kid die. It changes you, doesn't it? It changed my wife."
That was when Kyia's hardened stare softened.
Webb spoke again, "She looked just like you when I came back. Thought I'd never see that look again. Shit, I still hear my dear boy's laughter in my ears from time to time. Turn around and I expect him to be right there, even when I know better. Those mothers... they must hear their kids voices all the time."
A steady tear rolled down Kyia's cheek, glistening in the face of the flame beside her. "We do."
His hand reached out and rested on her thin shoulder, and her slender fingers lifted to grace his dirtied knuckles. "I'm sorry that neither of you ever got a chance."
She wrapped her hand around his, briefly squeezing it to check if it was real. Her acceptance of him betrayed her emotions, which caused her to silently shed a few more tears as she stood there. As she breathed, the top of her throat carried a faint whimper. She lowered her head, ashamed to look at him, as well as herself.
Kyia had a confession to make. "My anger excels my ignorance." She lifted her green eyes at the large soldier. "Your appearance, in some ways, resembles the man who ended my child's life. He was also the man who I loved."
She turned to Bela. "Forgive me as well, for I have lied to you. He was not just my friend."
"I am so sorry, Kyia." Bela could see why the brunette disliked Webb as much as she did. It seemed as though her past had never taken its hands off her neck.
Kyia glanced back at Webb, her face adorned with regret, as another set of tears trailed quietly down her smooth skin. "I gave him everything."
With the fire close by, there was a slight glisten to Webb's eye as he watched her stand there. She reminded him of his own wife all too well. Those evenings when he would return home, only to see her standing there by the window, with not a word to be said. He knew that there must have been a whirlwind of turmoil coursing within her, but her outer shell would not allow it to show.
Perhaps it was righteous fate that punished him in the end. She had to watch her son suffer and die from an unknown illness that nobody could cure. It was only fitting that he would eventually watch her wither away and die from a separate sickness, just as lethal.
He knew that sometimes disease was born in the heart.
"Don't give him the last thing that you have left," Webb told her.
She angled her head toward her shoulder, leaning in and planting a soft kiss against his fingers. Her grip tightened a bit more after she did so. It had been so long since she felt comfort like this. "Thank you."
A sudden series of banging noises interrupted their exchange. All three looked up above, unable to see past the dense darkness. Despite the obscurity, there was no mistaking that something was coming for them.
Bela and Kyia exchanged worried glances, the image of a horde of infected descending upon them, ready to tear the group to pieces. The blonde momentarily considered standing their ground and fighting, believing that they would persevere and survive the next onslaught, but it was Webb who offered a different opinion.
"It might be Vikcia," he said. "That's coming way too fast."
"Damn it!" Bela pointed her rifle at the top, but the multitude of stairs above blocked any chance of her bullets finding their mark, as if they would affect the witch anyway.
As the sound drew nearer, Webb knew that he was exposed without any fragments to shield him from her sight. With Bela and Kyia still in harm's way if they stood by, he made the decision to protect them at all costs.
"Go," he ordered. "Head down the stairs and stay there until this passes."
Bela's eyes widened in alarm, her hand reaching out to him as she held the shard in her palm. "Take the fragment! It can work!"
But Webb shook his head, their safety taking priority above his own. "You need it more than I do," he replied, resolute in his commitment. "Make it up there alive, Bela. Ethan's waiting for you."
With a heavy heart, she reluctantly obeyed. "I'm sorry we pulled you into this," she said to him.
But he would not accept her pity. "I think this is where I need to be," he calmly told her, his hand taking hold of the latch to the door behind him. It would lead into the center of the tower, away from the staircase and the two women. "I won't make it easy for her, I promise."
"Thank you, Webb." Bela cast one last glance at the soldier before she turned and ran down the stairs with Kyia close behind. The echoes of their footsteps faded into the darkness, leaving Webb alone as the torches glow fell dim.
Vikcia's powerful plume of dust could be heard drawing closer. It would be just a few seconds before the demon would cut through the levels of steps and ambush him. Webb simply took a shallow breath as he closed his eyes.
"I'm coming home, Benjamin."
In a flash, he threw open the door to the adjacent room, stepping inside just as the faint image of Vikcia materialized at the stairwell. Surrounded by the trails of shadows that overtook the torchlight below, the witch fixated on the soldier before her. Her nude body shone in the pitch-black environment she fostered, her talons flaring at her sides.
Her lips parted into a grisly smile, her teeth flashing as she giggled and snarled.
As Vikcia's laughter reverberated through the darkness, Webb wasted no time. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, he charged forward into the void, his heart pounding in his chest as he collided with various obstacles in his path. The shadows enveloped him, obscuring his vision as he sought to lead her away from the staircase.
But Webb refused to let fear consume him. When he had gotten far enough into the room, to the point where he was certain that Bela and Kyia could escape, he turned and fired his weapon at the sound of the beast pursuing him. The gunshots fragmented off the walls, the pieces striking the various fixtures around them. A series of sparks kicked off, before a tiny explosion rocked the narrow pathway with the flash of a fire to accompany it.
That was when Webb saw what his surroundings were: a hallway whose walls were lined with pipes and wires. They must have channeled their way across the clock tower, but what did he know? His gunfire must have struck something deep within that ignited the flame. Either way, the pitch-black room was now as lit up as it would have been with the aid of a dozen torches. The dull brown bricks of the walls were tinged with an orange glow from the fire nearby.
With the aid of the illumination around him, he could see Vikcia moving away from the light. Faint shadows clung to the edges of her body like smoke, while the glint of the white circles in her eyes shined past the black strands of hair that draped over her face.
She looked as hungry as ever and was willing to fight.
Webb couldn't hold back any longer. This was the same being who had brutally ripped apart his men. She was the cause of this plague, one that had destroyed an entire city. He believed that if this didn't stop now, then the world would be the next thing to fall at her hands. As the witch stepped closer toward him, shoulders raised and ready to strike, Webb emptied out the remainder of his weapon's magazine into her.
The spray of lead pierced the air, darting through her body, just like all the other rounds that the soldiers had tossed at her. Vikcia merely shook it off like it was nothing. She moved closer, her giggles growing in pitch as her smile pulled tighter.
Seeing that his gun was now useless, Webb sighed as he tossed it away. Those would likely be the last bullets that he would ever shoot, but the man's fight was not over. Reaching back into his coat, he withdrew the fixed-bladed knife that he had carried through countless operations.
Assuming a fighting stance, he angled the tip towards his opponent. "Vikcia, right?"
Her giggling stopped, but her smile remained.
"You want to hide behind those shadows?" He screamed. "How's about we change the rules up, yeah?" Webb didn't have much space to move around. There was nowhere to go besides front and back, and Vikcia already had him blocked off.
She tilted her head as she heard his words, eyeing the next person she needed to set free. Yet she remembered him among those in the carriage. He was the only one who had managed to elude her, and she would not allow such a thing to happen again.
Her raspy voice replied to him, "Rules?"
"Oh, so you can speak after all?" he returned.
Vikcia's eyes curled into a sinister gleam. She would say nothing else.
Without warning, the beast lunged forward, her claws extended as she aimed for Webb's throat. Reacting on instinct, he rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding her talons. As he landed on his feet, he swung his knife, hoping to catch her off guard. But to his dismay, the blade passed right through without resistance.
He knew that he should have guessed this would happen, but whether his weapons damaged her or not, she would have to earn this kill.
Determined not to let Vikcia get the better of him, Webb moved out of her reach, his eyes searching for the best avenue to possibly injure her. That's when he noticed it—the flames.
As Vikcia jumped at him once again, Webb seized the opportunity. In a quick dash, he maneuvered himself closer to the fire, knowing that Vikcia would not tolerate the light. The flames illuminated her form as she drew closer, displaying the great perversion of humanity that sought to devour him.
Her hand swung down at him, forcing the captain to dodge her efforts once more. He countered with a strike to her sharp claws, but the blade merely bounced off them. For a brief second, the two locked eyes, and Vikcia reared her left arm back.
He didn't react as quickly this time, and he paid the price when her nails carved several valleys across his thigh. The fabric of his pants tore open, displaying a hefty ocean of mangled flesh in between each row. "Fuck!" Webb groaned as he instinctively fell onto his knee.
With another swipe, her right hand came forward, missing Webb and slicing through one of the wires lining the walls. A shower of sparks erupted from the severed cord, momentarily stunning the demon and causing her to stumble.
Her eyes gazed at the light show as the current flickered out.
Despite the searing pain shooting through his leg, Webb gritted his teeth and pushed through, determined to keep up the fight. But Vikcia would not allow him time to recover. With a feral snarl, she darted past him, slashing at his right arm as she landed on her feet. Webb grunted in pain as her talons tore through his skin, blood trailing down his sleeve.
Despite the agony coursing through his body, he still refused to back down. Webb continued to maneuver Vikcia as she followed him, his every move calculated to draw her closer to the roaring flames. He knew that the fire was his best chance at weakening her, and if she could be weakened, she could be injured.
If he could injure her, then he could kill her.
Vikcia leapt at him again, thwarted only by another dodge roll that nearly saw Webb caught in the very blaze that he sought to lead her two. With the heat upon his back, he glanced ahead, eyeing her increasingly visible body and seeing the discomfort that suddenly festered in her black eyes. He took another swipe at Vikcia with his knife, and the blade skimmed across her forearm, drawing a shallow cut as she staggered backward.
That was it. No more passing through as if she were a cloud. His weapon could leave its mark.
As she retreated further away, Vikcia opted to attack from a distance. Her mouth opened as she reared back and raised her shoulders. Webb remembered her performing this same exact move when she battled his squad, aware now that she would soon unleash a torrent of dust at him. He had to act fast.
He dove down and rolled forward, delivering a powerful punch to her gut and sending her crashing against the wall with a grunt of pain.
The impact caused more sparks to fly from the torn wires, igniting the surrounding area in a blaze of flames. Vikcia's eyes widened in shock as she recoiled from the intense heat, her skin tinged with the searing pain of the light.
"Hey, bitch!" Webb screamed as his knife sliced through the air. He managed to land a glancing blow, cutting across the side of her abdomen and drawing a fresh wave of blood down her right hip. With a shriek and a hiss, the witch clutched onto her side as she glared at the man who had just injured her.
The two adversaries locked gazes, while Webb's voice boomed through the air as he shouted at her, "This is my world!"
Vikcia lifted her head, her bloodied claws brought up in his direction. With a raspy call, she replied to his defiance, "Let me help you."
Without warning, Webb suddenly felt a surge of energy coursing through his brain. Vikcia watched as he fell forward, clutching onto the sides of his head. The man found himself strained under the pressure of what was happening to him, but the only thing the witch could see through her eyes was a flash of light in place of her prey. It obscured her vision, but she could still hear him.
Webb listened in as a barrage of voices echoed through his head. He couldn't make any sense of it at first, but then he remembered how Bela had warned him about the power of the fragments. This must have been them at play, giving him a glimpse of other worlds that he would never know.
Soon, the light that obscured his body flickered out, allowing Vikcia's vision to return to normal. By this time, Webb had already stumbled far enough to wind up within her reach, and she decided that she would go in for the kill.
She approached him with determination, taking the soldier by the collar as she brought her claws to his throat. That was when he screamed out something that she never expected to hear.
"Who is Jill Valentine?!"
Vikcia's eyes widened, and her wide grin soon fell to a gape of astonishment. "Jill?" Her eyes then looked around, seeing only the blazing fire around her. Before she could do anything else, Webb regained his composure and realized that he was in her clutches. His knife jutted forth, so close to piercing her gut, before she grabbed hold of his wrist.
She returned her focus back to him, dragging the man back with all her elevated strength.
Locked in a deadly struggle, Webb and Vikcia partook in one final bout, resisting one another as best they could. But her enhanced power proved to be too much for him to overcome. With a twist of her hand, she broke his wrist, eliciting a sharp groan as his grip on the knife was released, sending the weapon clattering to the ground.
Before Webb could react, Vikcia's claws pierced his chest, causing him to hunch over her shoulder as she held him close. Her head loomed over the edge of his neck, her eyes closing as she withdraw her talons and plunged them into his chest again and again. Blood drained out of his many wounds as he groaned softly, his breath weakening with each strike.
He knew that this was the end. There would be no return from this, but that did not destroy the last glimmer of hope that he had.
In his final moments, with the life leaving his body, Webb's hand reached down and sought out his belt. With trembling fingers, he withdrew a small, cylindrical device—a grenade. His breaths turned into gasps as he primed it, Vikcia's claws still centered in his heart.
His thoughts drifted to the battles he had fought all over the world, the men he had lost, and the loved ones he believed he had failed. So many sacrifices, all in the hope that someday he would make a difference. If this was where his life was destined to end, then so be it.
He had completed his mission, and his service was over.
Vikcia stabbed her nails into his chest one last time, and the captain's body fell lifelessly in her arms. She lowered him to the ground, inhaling the blissful scent of death that now swam through his body. As soon as her claws were pulled out of his sternum, she heard a distinct metal clink beside him. With curiosity, the witch peered over his corpse to inspect the origin of the noise.
The ensuing explosion overtook her.
NOTES:
There are just four chapters left to go.
I'll keep these notes brief, touching only on the most important things. I never planned for Webb to make it this far, which has resulted in some additional chapters and scenes. I like to think of him and Vikcia as two people whose life stories intersect with us, the readers. We only see what is offered, but Webb played his role to the very end.
Concerning Vikcia, her story certainly begins at its final arc. Before you ask, no, she is not Jill Valentine or any other RE character of any sort. I'll leave it at that for the remainder of this story.
What can we expect in the next chapter? Well, we're about to ascend to the highest point of the clock tower, running headfirst into everything associated with that. That chapter will be posted tomorrow, so until then, I hope you all have an awesome weekend, and thank you for making it this far!
Follow this story on Archive of Our Own to check out the artwork created of Vikcia and Webb!
This story officially concludes on April 19th. The end is near.
Stay safe out there! 😊