“I hate my life,” Gene said.
Olo grunted, staring out the hospital’s front doors at the poor people turned into vampires.
“So… vampires?”
“What?”
“Those poor bastards out there. Mouth full of sharp teeth, fingernails like claws, pale skin.”
“Could be ghouls?”
“Depends on what mythology we’re going with,” Gene shrugged.
“The holy water didn’t work on all of them.”
“Nope. All the holy water worked, just not all holy water worked at the same time.”
That had been weird to watch.
They had emptied the prepared holy water tanks on the roof in a matter of seconds.
Each tank had been blessed by an official rep of a specific denomination or belief system.
“At least the guess is going to pay off,” Olo said.
They had a priest bless the remaining water tanks. Had priests at the water plant still doing the same unless it had fallen.
“One part belief, one part physical crap. Yup, vampires. I mean, all of them are staying out of the sunlights,” Gene said.
Olo fell quiet.
Time was running out on their clock.
Building protections would vanish when it hit zero.
He didn’t want this.
One terrible siege was enough for a lifetime.
The spires were cruel for putting them in this position after barely six months since they had returned home.
And now?
A neighborhood, a city awash in blood.
Dead family just when he was getting reacquainted or introduced in person to the ones that had been born in the time he was on other worlds.
He pushed the thoughts to the darkest recesses of his mind.
Couldn’t fight and survive mired in the past or looking to the future.
In a siege the present was the most important thing to focus on.
“I have a thought,” Gene mused. “The warning Commander Court got. Vukylokyr went after Tessa and Vee directly. And the governor from the chatter. I’m thinking this front lobby is a good kill box.”
“It’s a terrible kill box. They’ll tear through the walls and ceiling like they did at the houses.”
“Yeah, but what if their target was right here with us?”
Olo glanced at the soldiers in their defensive positions behind magitech forcefields.
Shield-bearing spearmen and spearwomen packed the hallway.
The same defenses were also in place at the other entrances.
“You’re the tactics guy.”
“Had enough of that for one lifetime.” Gene touched two fingers to his eye patch. “Except… we’re the highest leveled combat types here.”
The soldiers were all so young.
Olo remembered the days when he had been in their boots. It felt like someone else’s life. The simpler times when all he had to think about was leveling up. When they sought adventure and battle like the naive idiots they were.
“I’m tired, man. Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”
“We bring Mrs. Cruces down here and see what happens.”
“That’s— no.”
“C’mon, man. If I’m right, then having her here with us will take the pressure off the other exits. And it’ll keep the vampires from climbing the walls. The defense falls apart if they get in through the windows. And I don’t care that they’re barricaded. Like you said, they’ll just claw their way through the walls. We need them wanting to come straight through the front. Besides, she’s not any safer up there. You’re the strongest tank in the city. If she’s not safe with you…” Gene shrugged.
“Fine,” Olo grunted.
“Okay, good. Go ask her.”
“You do it. It’s your plan.”
“She likes you more.”
“That doesn’t matter. You’re plan.”
“No time. I have to let the captains know.”
“Damn it,” Olo muttered. “Fine.”
Ten minutes left on the countdown.
Five minutes to explain and get Mrs. Cruces on board.
Olo and Gene walked with her as she showed her face at each exit.
Gene was proved right.
The vampires perked up the instant they saw her.
They followed them around the hospital like dogs eager for their bowl of kibble.
One circuit and the vast majority of the vampires milled in the street outside the front lobby, dodging sweeping sunlight spotlights.
“Any word from Mr. Cruces?” Gene said.
“Nothing… yet.”
“We’re sorry about this, Mrs. Cruces,” Olo said.
She nodded.
Probably thinking about her husband and kids.
Tessa had sounded hurt the last time he had spoken to her.
Vee had been radio silent.
“Don’t be. It’s a good idea,”she said.
“Any suggestions?” Gene said.
“Your plan is the best option we have.”
The countdown jumped to just over a minute.
Someone in the hallway gasped only to be shushed by the other soldiers.
“Do your thing, Olo,” Gene said.
Olo grabbed his tower shield from where he had left it propped against a chair.
He strode to the front doors.
The glass was covered with dried water spots from the earlier holy water downpour.
Beyond was a hastily constructed gate of iron bars.
Hundreds of pairs of red eyes stared past him at Mrs. Cruces.
He planted his shield and waited for the countdown to end.
A collective screech echoed across the night.
The vampires charged, heedless of the burning sunlights.
Captains shouted commands.
Soldiers readied shields and spears. Guns. Spells. Skills.
Rotary-barreled machine guns whirred to life.
“Last Bastion of Par Olalin.”
His best Skill.
The first and last of its kind.
Earned through the blood of thousands.
Golden light the same color of Par Olalin’s four bastions emerged from his shield.
It coated the hospital’s outer walls, windows and every opening, no matter how small.
The ghostly outline of Par Olalin’s main bastion covered the entire outer surface of the building.
None could enter without his permission.
“How long is it going to last?” Mrs. Cruces said.
“There’s a time limit, but, no offense, I can’t tell you. We don’t know what ears might be listening or reading lips,” Gene said.
“Is it a fixed limit?”
“Maybe, maybe not… you alright there, Olo?”
Olo straightened to his full height and planted his feet.
“They’re not getting through until I die.”
Each of Par Olalin’s bastions had lasted months before they had fallen.
He would keep the golden bastion alive for the entirety of the 30 minute duration regardless of the damage the vampires did in their frenzy to tear through.
----------------------------------------
Bennett raged from the prison of his own body.
Every death at his fangs and claws belonged to him. Even if it was the hungry feral beast in control.
Damn it for being so clever despite the bloodlust!
Governor Richards was gone.
The easy smile had been replaced by red-smeared hunger.
From a man that could be everyone’s best friend to a monster murdering his own people without hesitation.
For every person drained a vampire thrall rose.
They swept through the capitol building.
Soldiers and staffers fought, then ran.
Most went deeper for the bunker complex.
The rest ran outside searching for safety with more soldiers and the walls.
The defenses inside the capitol slowed but didn’t stop them.
Sunlights kept them at bay until Bennett shot them out with guns taken from the fallen.
Those protected by magic shields lasted a bit longer, but only until mice and rats in the walls and ceiling chewed through the wiring.
Holy water in the sprinklers was a good try.
Bennett had to shadow walk to where the tanks were to deal with those.
The defenders died to the last, but Vukylokyr had not only unleashed his full potential, but had given him borrowed strength on top of that.
Bennett opened the way into the heart of the command bunker one reinforced steel door at a time.
All their magical and technological defenses only slowed him down.
Bathing rooms and hallways in light didn’t stop him when all he needed now was the barest sliver of a shadow to slip inside.
Using his abilities came with a cost.
Fortunately, there was plenty of blood to keep him operating at his peak.
Bennett recognized a few faces as the beast murdered them.
Terror, defiance, resignation.
The eyes told the story of the soul looking at its end.
It all made the blood taste that much sweeter.
They shot him, cut him. Blasted him with magic. Used their best Skills. The latest magitech spellgun or module attached to their weapons and armors.
They destroyed the lesser thralls by the dozen, yet it didn’t matter because he always emerged from a fight as hale as he had entered it.
The drained rose, replacing the losses.
The once governor had Vukylokyr’s protection. He, alone of the thralls, was not allowed a second death.
Bennett knew that it served no other purpose than to hurt the people at the sight of their beloved leader reduced to a slavering monster hungry for their blood.
The cruelty was the point.
One last steel door leading to the command center.
Doran would be in there.
Bennett knew, which meant Vukylokyr knew.
The chamber was larger than the rest.
About the size of a lecture hall.
It was a maze of fortified defenses.
Sunlights shined everywhere.
He threw the thralls forward with a snarl then sank into his shadow with the governor in tow.
They emerged inside the command center.
Doran already had his soldiers surrounding the general in a cocoon of shields and spears.
“Activate shields!” Doran barked.
Blue light sparked to life around the shields, extending their aegis into a dome with barely any gaps.
A smaller group of soldiers stood outside the dome.
Bennett didn’t give them any more time to organize.
He unleashed hundreds of bloodthirsty mice, rats and bats from the shadows.
A soldier responded with a wave of her arms.
Fire emerged, swelling, cresting like a shore break to consume the animals.
It would have been foolish to use that spell in an enclosed space if not for the robust ventilation system.
The same system Bennett had been filling with small animals since he and Vukylokyr had entered the governor’s office.
They poured out from the ceiling in multiple places.
A dark deluge of teeth and claws.
“Shield up! Burn them all!” Doran snapped.
The order was for the soldiers outside the blue dome.
Mages cast their best shields, while the rest activated their magitech shield generators.
The former filled the room with fire.
Bennett dragged the governor into the shadows at the last second.
He waited.
Let them think they were safe.
Until a hand grabbed his ankle and yanked him back into the physical world.
Smoke filled the room but was rapidly being sucked out by the vent fans.
“You aren’t the only one that has shadow shit in his back pocket.”
The voice was familiar.
Arrogance and aggression in equal measure.
They had first tangled so many years ago in the alleys of San Francisco.
The weredogs.
Two had become friends.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Two were enemies for a long time. Then nominal allies in recent years.
Bennett was glad that Rino and Kare were on the Threnosh world out of his reach.
As for Scotty and Chance?
His only thought was that allies didn’t deserve to be betrayed.
Chance was partway to his full weredog transformation.
A young mage with her hand in Bennet’s shadow crouched next to the big man growing bigger.
Short white fur sprouted. Mouth lengthened. Teeth grew sharper, longer. Fingernails turned into thick claws. Limbs twitched and twisted as bone structure changed and muscles grew.
“Always knew we couldn’t trust you,” Chance growled. His voice turning guttural as human mouth turned into weredog muzzle.
Bennett pulled the mage into his shadow.
Surprise could only buy the weaker one a sliver of a chance.
Chance drew a custom gun sized for his massive hands.
Two barrels filled the air with silver pellets.
Bennett turned into shadow, letting them fly through with only a slight sting.
Shadow tendrils ripped the gun from Chance and smacked him in the face with the hunk of metal.
The weredog drew a silver-edge knife that would’ve been a sword in a normal person’s hands. He struck like lightning.
So fast for his size.
But Bennett was beyond the weredog now.
He dipped and dodge each slash and thrust with inches to spare.
The governor launched himself at Chance’s back, biting and clawing.
“Hold the governor!” the general barked.
“He’s gone! You can’t tell, but I can smell it! The scent’s all wrong!” Chance slashed frantically to keep Bennett back while trying to pull the governor off his.
“That’s an order!”
“Fuck! Then keep him off my back!” Chance ripped the governor off and slammed him to the ground before kicking him toward a group of soldiers.
They overpowered the governor and had him chained up in seconds.
“Some help here!”
Bennett blurred around the white-furred weredog.
Cuts bled freely despite quick healing.
In fact, the wounds weren’t healing at all.
Bennett felt his grin turn into a leer.
He reached out.
Chance’s blood flowed into his mouth.
“You were always the real monster,” Chance growled.
The weredog leapt, slashing with blade and claws.
Bennett could see the red haze in Chance’s eyes, wafting off his bloody fur.
The rage gave Chance nothing.
Bennett dodged everything like it was in slow motion.
He spun to Chance’s back and punched him into the reinforced concrete wall a dozen feet away.
The clang of his fist on Chance’s steel plate was like thunder.
The soldiers attacked.
Elite special forces.
Combined arms tactics of the modern age.
Tanks to taunt and hold his attention, while damage was applied by mages and gunners with a rogue-type or two looking to hit devastating vital strikes in the slightest opening.
They lasted seconds.
The general and Doran didn’t even have the chance to throw them some of their Skills.
Chance roared, impaling Bennett on his blade and lifting him up.
Bennett melted into a shadow.
He appeared behind Chance.
A gesture…
Dozens of shadow spikes emerged from the floor and ceiling to pierce Chance and hold him in a gruesome prison that fed potent weredog blood to Bennett.
Chance cursed, but the words were lost in the blood filling his throat.
The shadow spikes had spared no part of his body.
The weredog thrashed, but the spikes held firm.
Bennett deliberately watched until the movement stopped before turning to the general and Doran still hiding behind their magitech dome.
“No more friendly fire,” Doran held his gaze. “Weapons free.”
Spears slipped through small openings to bombard him with spell fire.
Fire, frost, lightning, stone darts.
All the elements and other more esoteric spells.
The shadows responded to his call and defended him from everything.
The blood cost was astronomical, but Chance’s huge body held a lot of potent blood.
The special forces soldiers were all in the Level 40 range. Their blood was good too.
The spell modules ran out of mana before he ran out of blood.
Then the soldiers ran out.
The general and Doran were out of options.
They weren’t front line fighters.
Their best Skills weren’t a threat to him in the situation.
They never really had a chance.
Vampire was already a class a few steps above a normal combat class. Weredog was probably in the same vicinity, but Bennett had levels on Chance. Not only that, he had always held back for fear of being unable to control himself unleashed. None of that took into account the significant boost Vukylokyr gave him by sharing its blood. He didn’t know for sure, but he guessed that the beast was operating at 10 levels higher than his actual level.
Bennett’s spoke in a voice that sounded like him, but didn’t belong to him.
“General, Commander Doran. You have the same choice the governor was granted. Serve willingly or serve regardless. He chose the latter. Choose the former and you retain your minds.”
The general raised his chin. So nice of the man to bare his throat.
“Never.”
“Is that the choice you made, Bennett?” Doran said.
Bennett didn’t know the man well.
Only ever in a professional capacity.
Vukylokyr answered for Bennett.
“His choice will come at the last.”
“We’ll never join you. Whatever you are, it isn’t anything ever worth surrendering our souls,” Doran said.
“Do you answer for all your soldiers?”
Silence.
“I accept your answer. Drain them and turn them. Continue to spread.”
Vukylokyr’s presence disappeared as subtly as it had entered him.
Bennett raged against the prison of his body.
He saw what the beast saw.
The small gaps in the magic dome to allow them to stick their spears out.
They should’ve closed it up.
Prayed that the shield would last long enough for help to arrive.
Shadows slithered.
Blood flowed.
Bodies rose.
Bennett sobbed.
----------------------------------------
“We’re too late,” Detective Ordonez said.
They had gone straight to the capitol and through one of the gates just ahead of the vampires.
They had gone right over the wall. For every one killed, enough slipped through.
And from the sounds on the local channels home protections were failing quickly.
People were being killed and turned into more vampires.
They had just pulled up to the capitol building when the detective’s words made their hearts stop.
The alert on the comms stabbed knives into them.
People came rushing out, screaming about vampires in the halls.
Marci glanced at the detective.
“If we’re too late, I’m taking us to the bunker’s other entrance.”
“We are… but also not.”
“I just want to be clear. Your Skill is telling you that it’s too late to help the governor?”
Jake could tell Marci was choosing her words very carefully.
The detective shrugged.
“Too late on one, but not the other.”
“What about Commander Court?” Shannon said.
“You’re Watch. You guys are free to do what you think is best,” Marci said.
“We were ordered to stick to the detective, so that’s what we’ll do.” Jules frowned.
“Look. This is all intuition shit,” Detective Ordonez spat. “Why I hate it so much. The Watch Commander, Sutter and SCC.” She listed them on her fingers. “And in there,” she pointed up the stairs to the capitol building. “Just not up, but down.”
“The radio, mate. It’s back, ain’t it?” Scotty said.
Marci shook her head. “Still nothing from the command center.”
“Let’s get some reinforcements, then head down,” Jake said.
It seemed reasonable to him.
The walls were holding.
The vampires were fighting people and the monsters that had taken the opportunity to slip in to add to the chaos.
Three way, but not the good kind.
Marci shook her head.
“None left. At least none strong enough to make a difference if the ones inside can’t handle it. If we can’t handle it.”
Licorice whined.
“Aye, ain’t liking the sound o’ that,” Scotty muttered.
Cara soothed the huge black dog.
“He’s scared but he’ll go in if I do.” She whistled. Goldie alighted on the nearby street lamp. “Go to the watch commander. Scout for her.”
The enormous golden eagle screeched affirmative as it took flight once again.
“I’m not telling any of you to come with,” Marci said.
Scotty raised his hand.
“Except for you.”
“My nose is telling me I need to be in there,” Detective Ordonez said.
“Mine’s smelling a lot o’ blood, piss and shit.” Scotty snorted.
“Orders,” Shannon shrugged.
Jake sighed.
He was supposed to be semi-retired.
Marci looked to him last.
He shrugged.
“Got to do what we got to do.”
They entered the capitol building.
Boots echoed through the vast emptiness.
They headed for the bunker complex.
Blood and other things were smeared on the floors and walls.
More the deeper into the building they went.
Strangely, no bodies.
One guess what that meant.
Licorice led.
Marci followed with spear and round shield.
Scotty brought up the rear in his partial transformation, wiry black fur sprouting from all over his body.
They reached the bunker complex’s door.
Wide open.
Red smears ran down the walls almost like a child had forgotten they had been finger painting before heading down to the basement for more paint.
Licorice’s plate-sized paws padded down the cold floor, his claws clicked every so often.
Empty corridors.
Wet smears everywhere they looked.
“Stop! Sha—”
Jake was ready.
He had already willed the spell into existence as soon as he heard Detective Ordonez’s voice.
Sunlight.
A waste of a slot if not for this specific scenario.
It blazed out of the smartphone he held above his head, driving the shadows away.
The attack still came, but not from within their formation.
Licorice growled.
“Steel Fur, Crush Bite,” Cara said.
The gigantic dog lunged forward, intercepting the blur before it could reach Marci.
Snarling, biting, slashing.
Then a yip.
Followed by the wet thud of Licorice’s 300 pound body landing farther down the corridor.
Cara cried out.
Marci, shield painted dripping red, lunged forward.
Her spear tip blurred.
Stabbing three times in one thrust.
The blur tried to move around her, but the tightness of the corridor aided her in keeping it in front of her spear and shield.
A howl from behind.
Scotty in full weredog form kicked, stomped, bit and slashed at the wave of small rodents that had emerged from beyond the light spell’s boundary.
At his black-furred feet a champion among fancy rats, puffed up white and black fur damp with red, stood tall against the tide and refused to go under.
“Taunt! Crap! Not working!” Shannon said as she banged her sword on her shield.
Detective Ordonez was on her back.
A pale-skinned vampire bit and tore at her steel collar.
She jammed her spell pistol into its chest and sent a blast of chain lightning coursing through its body.
“Decap—” Jules pulled her sword back at the last moment. “It’s the governor!”
He didn’t share her thoughts on mercy.
Clawed hands cut deep gouges into her shield.
“Not him,” Detective Ordonez choked out. “Not anymore.”
He turned his hungry eyes back to the detective.
A small, black-furred missile struck him in the cheek.
The other exemplar among fancy rats, Dracula, carved red tracks all over the vampire’s face.
Snapping jaws.
Needle-sharp teeth.
A squeak abruptly silenced.
“Shield Charge!” Shannon slammed into the vampire’s side, knocking him off the detective and crushing him into the wall.
“Move!” Detective Ordonez snapped.
Another shot.
The vampire’s limbs convulsed a moment.
“Now!”
“Decapitate!”
The silvered edge of Jules’ blade glinted in the sunlight.
Head separated from body, the governor had been freed.
Jake glanced at the floor.
Dracula’s body lay in two pieces.
He snatched the brave defender without thinking and placed the fancy rat in one of his tablet’s of holding.
Marci shouted.
In pain. Not in warning.
Cara only brought one of her battle cat’s into the capitol.
Persimmon was an orange tabby. A scarred, one-eyed old tom that was almost as big as a bobcat.
He launched himself at the blur.
Her Skills made him stronger, faster, tougher. A true whirling blender of teeth and claws.
It ended with him in pieces. With Cara hoisted off the floor by her throat.
“Bennett—” she managed to get out before the vampire tightened his grip.
The scarecrow-like figure stood tall, proud, not stooped over like he normally was, self-conscious of his looming.
Fangs that had never looked as long dripped red in a mouth split wide open in a feral, hungry smile.
His pale skin smoked in the sunlight spell, but it didn’t seem to bother him.
Cara kicked, but she couldn’t reach his body. She beat on his arm, but
“Bennett, bro…” Jake said. “You’ve got to be in there, please… don’t make—”
Cara stopped fighting.
Jake slashed with his magitech hand.
Mana Blade.
A glowing blue axe crossed the ten foot distance, striking Bennett at the elbow.
The blade stopped on the bone.
Jake willed more mana until it cut through.
Cara fell to the floor, unmoving.
Jake ejected the mana battery in his prosthetic and slapped a new one in.
Bennett locked red eyes on his.
He searched for any sign of his friend.
“C’mon, man… we’re bros…”
Bennett leered. He held his bleeding stump out to the side.
Blood turned into tendrils, snaking down to the floor and pulling the severed arm back into place.
Jake cursed. Drew his spell pistol and squeezed the trigger in a practiced motion.
Flamethrower didn’t need pinpoint accuracy.
Bennett’s clothes burned, his flesh blackened.
Jake emptied the mana battery.
The pistol overheated, exploding in his hand.
Blue light lined his body as the mana shield automatically blocked the damage.
Bennett strode toward him.
Charred flesh flaking away to reveal fresh pale with each step.
Bennett vanished mid step.
Blue light flashed and Jake was in a Jake-shaped crater in the wall.
Blur. Flash. Blur. Flash.
Jake lashed out with a desperate lightning claw, scoring charred lines across Bennett’s bare chest. He gasped. “Full frontal… we’re bros, but not that kind of bros.”
His devices had been pre-loaded with mana, but every activation took a bit out of his personal supply.
He had loaded up extra on the mana shields.
By his count he was down to half.
Bennett swiped clawed hands, left than right in quick succession.
So fast that he actually beat the shield activation with the second one.
Jake’s head snapped to the side dangerously.
His HUD died. Five claw marks carved right through the faceplate.
Blue-white light crackled, pushing back the encroaching shadow.
“Shadows?” Jake murmured. Shit!
The sunlight spell dimmed.
He strobed a second sunlight spell from one of the smartphones attached to the front of his armor.
Bennett recoiled along with the shadows right into Marci’s spear.
“Heartseeker Thrust.”
Her face was a mask of wet red. Her faceplate had been shattered. One eye was closed. The shattered remnants of her shield hung on a loosely dangling arm.
The spear didn’t waver in her grip.
She roared spinning Bennett around.
“We need to retreat!” Detective Ordonez said as she shot chain lighting down the way they had come, frying dozens of rodents.
Scotty growled something inarticulate.
“Don’t give me lip you incoherent fur bag!” she snapped. “Pick her up,” she pointed to Cara and took Scotty’s place.
Not much left of the rodents.
They climbed up her leg.
The magitech one.
Blackened, smoking corpses hit the floor.
Alucard, black and white fur sticky with wet red, climbed up her other leg to perch on her shoulder.
Her spell gun spat lightning, clearing the way.
“Go! I’ll hold him!” Marci grunted as Bennett thrashed like a fish on a spear.
“The hell you will! Gates! Shield the hallway. Children you’re running up here with me in case there are any other surprises,” Detective Ordonez said.
Jake pulled a laptop from his bag of holding. Couldn’t put one magitech device in another for some reason. Had to use a bag or backpack. Sometimes he wished the spires was more consistent. It always felt like it was making things up as it went along.
Marci dumped Bennett and stepped back.
Jake hit enter.
The translucent blue wall sprang to life in an instant.
Bennett stood facing them.
The hole in his chest slowly closed.
“Your spear—”
“Silver coated, just for this, for him.”
Bennett punched the shield, causing cracks to spiderweb across the surface and the laptop’s fan to whir louder in protest.
“Let’s move.”
Jake followed Marci, stopping periodically to leave a sunlight smartphone on the floor.
Pale-skinned figures lurked in the capitol building’s shadows.
“Walked us into a trap,” Detective Ordonez muttered. “Have to go to…” she thought hard, pulling on her Skill, “the rotunda.”
Shannon and Jules sheathed their swords in favor of sunlight flashlights.
The beams burned the vampires and kept them back.
A woman appeared in their path in a puff of black smoke.
She stared down her nose at them. Head held high, back straight. She wore a smart business suit for some reason.
Her eyes shined as she opened her mouth to speak.
Detective Ordonez shot the woman with lightning, sending her flying into the darkness.
“Vampire. Level 35 or 45. I can’t pin it down for some reason. There’s more lurking around. Don’t look them in the eyes or let them speak.”
The building shook violently as they neared the rotunda.
Vampires and vampires waited for them.
Bennett stepped out of the shadows with that unrecognizable smile on his face.
“This… yer… intuition,” Scotty growled, placing Cara on the cold floor to step in front of group.
Detective Ordonez shrugged. “Nothing’s changed.”
A series of crashes from the high, domed ceiling heralded the rain of broken glass glittering like stars in the flashlight beams.
“What… the… shite?”