Chapter 39: And With a Smile That Judas in Hell Might Be Proud Of, Part 8
Dracula, the last obstacle.
Just a little further, and peace would be hers. Not happiness or freedom, come to think of it. It didn’t matter that Daniela had been killed, considering how things had turned out. Where things had ended up. That is, in the air. She tried not to think about it. But as she approached, her mind was forced to acknowledge that she had no plan, no way to survive the inevitable fall. Once they killed Dracula, regardless of whether the prince of darkness was somewhere inside the dragon’s body or just behind her, fighting with Daniela, the dragon would disappear along with the life of that animal. That horrible monstrosity. And then they would plummet down, kilometers and kilometers, toward certain death. There was no happy ending. Her reward for saving the world would be death.
Even so, she could accept that, as long as her death was for something worthwhile. As long as she could drag that son of a bitch to hell. That was the only outcome she could hope for from this. If she wasn’t capable of coming to terms with it, she might as well start now.
Alex finally reached the dragon’s head. She hadn’t fallen very far, but the journey was more difficult than before—because of the pain, the wounds, and the force of the wind. Alex covered the remaining eye with copies of her weapon, which appeared just over the soft skin, the soft flesh of the eyeball, which was large enough to roll over and crush an entire neighborhood. The surreal image etched itself into her mind with terrifying clarity, and she felt something like a laugh rise, vibrating from her stomach to her throat. But when her lips parted, all she managed to do was almost retch. She managed to hold it back, fortunately. The last thing she needed right now was to vomit and lose her balance.
The swords exploded, as did the eye. Blood fell through the clouds below, and Alex made a spontaneous decision, one that could very well be the last decision she’d ever make. Well, she’d find out as she went. Alex jumped backward, did a somersault, and landed in the empty eye socket. Disgusting. Full of fluids clinging to her boots, to her legs. Blood and other filth. And very dark. Dark and deep, like some cavern in a forgotten part of the world. A cavern of flesh, of blood, and surely of countless, nameless horrors. It was so dark, but she had to move forward. Maybe she could kill the creature from the inside by striking its heart. Beating her way through wouldn’t get her anywhere.
Then again, maybe she could find Dracula in there somewhere, controlling the dragon’s body as if it were a puppet. A second skin. The real Dracula. No matter which of her theories was right, it wasn’t a bad idea to go deeper into this place. So, Alex took a deep breath and stepped forward, resolute. She couldn’t turn back. She couldn’t be afraid. She simply couldn’t. She was a dead woman. Why would she fear death when she was already dead? That thought calmed her, strange as it seemed.
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Soon, she wasn’t taking steps; she was running fearlessly into the darkness that could devour her without a trace, hoping that Daniela could distract Dracula, hoping this would be enough, that it wouldn’t all be in vain. She didn’t expect too much. Humanity deserved a reprieve. Already, for once. Wasn’t it true? It didn’t deserve another victory, or maybe it was the turn of darkness and shadow, considering they had been held at bay for centuries. Humanity had already lasted too long. Who was anyone to decide that? Neither gods, nor divinities, and certainly not vile creatures like Dracula.
No one could decide that. Humanity deserved to go on because she said so, damn it! And even if she had to give her life for it, she would make sure that’s how it went. Even if it meant taking a gamble like Daniela. She wouldn’t rest until her mission was complete because she was a hunter, and she took pride in that. Why was she a heroine? Her job, as always, was to go into the darkness where no one else dared.
Though her sword did give her some illumination—more precisely, the magical energy it was made of. Not much, only enough to see a few meters ahead of her. Just that. She was tense, wondering what might emerge from the darkness to devour her, wondering what kind of things slumbered in the dragon’s innards. Maybe they’d be as mythical as the dragon itself. Too bad, in any case, it wasn’t enough to worry her. That little bit of light was enough for her. She was a hunter; her job was to enter the darkness where no one else dared. That had been her job from the beginning.
Then her terrible premonition came true, as she heard something slithering from the depths of the darkness. Something sinister. No, dozens of things, moving toward her somewhere in the darkness, lurking. Alex XVI, half herself, was about to face, perhaps, the dragon’s digestive system, its antibodies, so to speak.
The things emerged from the other side of the darkness, things without names in the human world, without a form that could be recognized, creatures that seemed like they were from a completely different world. Trying to focus on them, to give them shape, to make them clearer, only brought on an intense headache, as if her skull were being split in two by a hunting knife. Whatever those things were, if she wanted to reach the dragon’s heart, to the core of this beast, she would have to get through them.
Alex gritted her teeth and leaned forward like a runner, ready to shoot forward. She was only prepared to run; there were too many monsters. Even if she tried to kill them all, she wouldn’t get anywhere, and she suspected they were inexhaustible, like his army, which they had ignored as much as possible until now. This was the same. This was what she had to run from, even if she could barely see her surroundings, slip past them, and get to the right place. The true body of Dracula, the heart of his dragon form—maybe the two were the same. Either way, this was the last thing she had to do; she had to drive a stake into the vampire’s heart and then close her eyes and prepare to die in the fall.
And With a Smile That Judas in Hell Might Be Proud Of, Part 8: END