She listened for a while, searching with her ears for any sign of him, for something, anything, like footsteps or breathing. Anything that sounded like it was getting close to her again. After living eighteen years in a town with things other people considered to be scary without any sort of problem, this was by far the worst nightmare she had ever had.
“Valek?” she whispered.
Nothing replied.
“Valek?” she said again. She slowly got to her feet, something that proved to be an intricate task with her knees quaking like they did. She gripped onto the wall behind her so they wouldn’t buckle. “Valek?” she said a little louder. Upon hearing nothing again, she crept back toward the direction of the corner he originally put her. She carefully toed her way around on the floor. A few feet in, the edge of her foot nudged against something.
Her pulse leapt into her throat, but nothing grabbed her. She bent down next to whatever it was, placing her small hand on what she figured out was his back. Thankfully, it did not move. She sighed. “It’s okay now, Valek. We will be safe,” she promised, resting her cheek on his shoulder blade. Grabbing onto his arm, she turned him face-up and pulled his upper half into her lap like a giant doll, holding him there, stroking his hair.
Abruptly, the door shot open, streaks of deadly yellow light blazing in across the floor. She screamed at the vision of the tall, solid silhouettes at the threshold and the sight of the blazing corpse, howling on the floor next to her.
Charlotte raced to the bed and tore off the thick, black, velvet comforter. “Close the door!” She hurled it over Valek's melting body. “Close the door!” Her own voice sounded distant, echoing in her head like she was screaming through a tunnel. Her vision clouded. She turned again to the figures at the entryway. “I said, close the—”
Something hard slammed over the top of her head.
And then there was nothing.
Chapter Eleven
Nightmare
The sun scorched high over Prague, setting the city spires aflame in the early October morning. The High Wizards sat in tented booths with the finest black robes hugging their backs. Thick-rimmed sunglasses masked their faces, which were so sullen it was impossible to see the amount of joy built up behind the façade they created while they watched the most hated creatures slaughtered in front of a million curious eyes. The Regime had sent out invitations to Elves and lesser creatures from all over the Czech Republic to come watch the first taste of justice be served.
Before sunrise, the first group of apprehended “criminals” had been dragged deep into the dungeons of the Regime palace to be drawn and quartered, washed clean of the blood they had so unrighteously absconded from the unknowing human race.
The repented blood dyed the stony floors red, filled the small, dingy rooms with the stench of rust. It was the Wizards’ way of making sure every drop the Vampires had taken was paid back before their dismantled pieces were burned to ashes by the bright morning light.
Now the Regime leaders watched with placid faces while the large chunks of lavender flesh turned orange and then brown as thick, gunmetal smoke billowed up to a slated, marble sky. Horrible heart-wrenching screams could be heard from the pieces that still contained whole heads, which provided the distant satisfaction to one — Vladislov — who sat more stoic than the rest atop the amphitheatre against the strange misting, silver rain.
The smell that wafted through the audience of creatures was foul, like the burning flesh of a thousand bodies, fused with brimstone. It caused the audience to distort their otherwise satisfied visages.
Once the chunks of monsters had been reduced to ash and soot and everyone had left back to their various Occults, faces stained with air-born residuum, Vladislov ordered the courtyard to be swept and shined before the next group was captured that night.
As the High Wizards skulked back to their quarters, Kazimir came up to congratulate his elder brother.
“Vladislov, that truly was a vision today!” His voice rang out through the winding, obelisk halls. “I’m so happy to see justice finally being served, and we can forever rid ourselves from the lowest of all lowly creatures that ever did escape the gates of Hell.”
The two brothers chortled as their heavy voices bounced off the cold walls, though Vladislov’s laughter was just a bit more hollow.
“Did you know in the Americas, the legend of the Vampire is actually revered among the humans? It is… entertaining to them!” He scoffed.
“They are a jaded type of people, brother. But don’t worry. Soon that will all end.” Kazimir put his hand on his brother’s jagged shoulder as the two disappeared down the corridor.
Tomorrow, it would be another group of these sub-creatures too unfit to walk the mortal Earth. It would be another pillar of smoke. Another thousand screams. And the next day, the same thing was to follow. And the next. And the next.
Something hard snapped in Charlotte’s jaw as she finally began to drift from the hazy blackness that had taken her consciousness captive. She was not sure where she was, how long she had been there, or even how she got there. But when her eyes fluttered open, she was struck with confusion about the unfamiliar, dismal room with stony walls and crooked pipes hanging raggedly from the ceiling.
The tops of the walls dripped with a deathly sort of fuming condensation. Thick smoke filtered in through barred windows — merely carved holes in the East walls. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was Valek.
Gingerly, she turned over so her belly was on the crypt floor; she realized the agonizing pain that jolted from her ribs to her head. She whimpered, sucking in the thick, polluted air, just to cough it back up again. She heaved against the cold dirty ground, when something warm and slick oozed down one side of her face. The gash on her head throbbed when she touched it.
Low hissing wafted through the haze from the back of the dungeon. The sound was soft, but it soon grew layers of various tendrils that altered in pitch, reaching out like claws that tore at her attention.
Charlotte blinked feverishly to stop the place from spinning. Several shadowy figures, glaring eyes that reflected off the light like a cat’s, began to creep from their hiding places against the dank bricks. Their hands distorted into claws as they started to slink toward her, their silhouettes human-shaped.
Hiss.
The noise spiraled again through the blinding smog and made it impossible for her to breathe. She struggled to see the figures approaching her through the clouds. She heard the sound coming from over her then, and could see even more of the dark things crouching on the steel piping above her; their faces slightly illuminated by the waning daylight.
“Good evening,” one hissed at her, as the setting sun twinkled off something within its devilish mouth. A fang.
“Vampires,” Charlotte mused, almost too silent to hear.
“There is nothing left to feed on.” A female sighed from the back of the room.
Charlotte’s heart slammed against her chest. The wound on her head pounded as the room started to gain focus.
There were seven. No. At least ten — all advancing toward her. She searched the faces, but to her gut-wrenching dismay, none of them belonged to him.
“Valek.” The word slipped from behind her lips. She meant to call it. She meant to scream out for him, but the sound came out a whimper.
One mocked her and the rest started to laugh as she scuffled backward against one of the walls. She was a caged mouse with a family of snakes.