the clock struck midnight, the humans would be left only in pockets, sheltering for protection. They would be hunted down for sport. Only one would be spared.
One would be left to wander. Accompanied by his enemies as she may be, it mattered not to him. They would fall in time. But he had one mission for her in all this death—observe and learn. He would come for her in time.
While he was master of the hunt, how it ended would be hers to decide.
You met me in a dream. Now we shall see how you fare with my nightmare.
2
They undid her chains long enough to allow her to change into something more appropriate than the opera gown she had worn last night. She pulled on a dress meant for gardening, not for refined society, and pulled the laces of the bodice tight in the back.
Society is dead. No one will care if you do not wear a proper corset. She pulled on a pair of black silk gloves and did her long, dark hair up in a braid. She could not help but linger as she tied the bit of leather string around the end of it. Vlad preferred her hair worn loose. She cringed. Placing her hands down on surface of the vanity in front of her, she struggled with herself.
There was no resolving her turmoil. Not now, perhaps not ever. She left her hair braided and pulled on one of her fall coats. The weather had taken a sharp turn, fading from the balmy warmth of the summer into the chill of early winter. She did not know where the hunters planned on leading her, but she knew it would require her to be out and about in the city for a good length of time.
Comfortable shoes, a coat, and she was ready to go.
Go where?
To her death? To his? Or to both?
Still, the echoes of the dead and dying plagued her mind. The city was wounded. Many were likely now lost to the claws of the creatures that hunted the streets. The rest might be hunkered down in their homes, terrified and alone. They could not understand what was happening. They could not understand why.
The sun had been robbed from the skies. What else could they do but cower? Life had ceased its pattern. There were but a few constants in this world, one of them being the rise and fall of the very sun itself. But now, like every other shred of normalcy, it was gone.
All because she dared to love the creature who had stolen it from the skies.
She needed quiet. She needed silence from those around her. She would not get it. When there was a furtive knock on her door, she could sense that the hunters had grown impatient. “I’m coming,” she called. The light nature of the knock and the gentle soul across the wooden barrier from her revealed it was Bella.
Each of the hunters had a unique feeling. They burned bright from each other. Bella was sweet, light, and loving. Eddie was curious and resilient. Alfonzo was determined and headstrong. She found herself, despite everything, caring for each of them. They were only trying to do what was right.
She also wondered if she had not been deceived as they had claimed. If her mind had not been corrupted after all. Separate from Vlad’s influence as she was, caught in the tide of the stinking death and fear that surrounded them, she could not help but doubt the love she had for him.
Which was the lie?
Which was the mistruth?
Maxine opened the door. “I am ready,” she murmured to the young girl. That itself was a lie. All she wished to do was cower in the safety of her room and wait for the storm to pass. Wait for the demon himself to sweep into her room, gather her up into his arms, and take her to where she would be safe from such strife.
But she had never been one to turn her gaze away from that which was unpalatable. She was a creature born to bear the suffering of those around her. And, in her own right, it was her responsibility to experience every drop of blood as though it were her own. The city had fallen because she lacked the strength and conviction to try to destroy the monster when she had the chance.