“You’re going to shoot them?” Kali asked, easily moving over the awkward silence as she studied the rifle. “Their chitin's as hard as steel and they're incredibly fast.”
Shaking his head, Cesare grinned. “Bullets aren’t an option. I'd already guessed that soft lead wouldn’t work. Bullets are good against soft targets. The few calibers used for hardened targets wouldn't be a good choice against something with an exoskeleton. No hydro static shock, organ redundancy, and overall toughness make bullets a fool’s bargain.” He picked up the rifle, popping the magazine out. “I made an acid that should work against the queen. The goal's for Alexandra to target the wings, once the thing's grounded, Alexandra can kill it with the cursed blades.”
Kali’s eyebrows rose at the plan. “I’ve never heard of anyone trying to use acid against them.” Intrigued, she reached for the magazine. “Do you think it'll work?”
Nodding, Cesare set the rifle down. “I think it'll eat through their wings at least. Since the paintballs explode, we should get acid on the wings. Once they’re taken care of, the queen will be on Alexandra’s turf.”
Kali handed over the rifle clip reluctantly. “If this works … you don’t know what you’ve done, do you?” She asked quietly. “We’ve fought the Hive for thousands of years for land and resources. In dark places and shadowed alley ways. Armored, strong, fast, and fanatical in their desire to dominate the world, only the strongest races of the Umbrae Lunae can stand up to them for any length of time. This could open a way to even the odds in a war that's dragged on for centuries.”
Elizabeth’s quiet voice broke into the silence. “It’s like the werewolves; they haven’t said anything, but admission next year is coming in and its heavy with na’wals. Only a select few know how you fought Blaez, but everyone wants to know. You could change the landscape of more than one war, Cesare. People will want to control that change.” Even Anastasia had come out of her trance to listen to the conversation.
Kali looked over the group. “Many of the conflicts our world's locked in have dragged on for centuries. Our long lives stick us in a past that cripple's growth. While we adopt human technology, we don’t modify that technology to our own species. We won't be the only ones to see the potential in you. Some will want to control you like Elizabeth said, others will merely want you dead, many have a vested interest in keeping the status quo.”
Taking special silk ropes, Alexandra wove a belt to hang the swords from her left side. Testing the draw of the blades, she cut the air with silver crescent's before adjusting the ropes. Strapping the gun to her right side, she adjusted it as she practiced clearing it from the holster. The rifle was left in its place, she’d carry that one.
Anastasia went back to her meditation while Alexandra went over her equipment obsessively. Sitting, Cesare talked quietly with Kali and Elizabeth, there wasn't anything he had to get ready. If today was it, he was glad to spend it with the people he loved. These were the people who'd taught him the difference between living and surviving.
Looking at her watch, Elizabeth quietly announced. “It’s time.”
They walked through the dim hall before coming out through the arch into the arena. Even overcast, the sunlight was intense after the darkness of the underworld. They started for the stairs to the side. Blaez would be first up and they wanted to get a read on the queens.
Sitting down, he wasn’t surprised to see Kali claim the chair next to him or for Elizabeth to take the opposite one. There was a tightness around Elizabeth’s eyes, the conversation they’d had last night had driven home how edgy Cesare's life was. It was a suckers bet for him to live beyond the next hours, that fact held a weight all its own.
Kali never thought for a moment he wouldn’t win. Her anger came from the raw truth that she wouldn’t see him for months. He’d be out living life, meeting people, having fun, charming girls out of their panties, and she’d be stuck in a life where everyone had an angle, each hungering to claim a piece of her. She knew how special he was, and special didn’t stay on the market for long. Kali could find good looking all day, every day, big cocks and bigger egos, those that wanted to fuck and use her. She had thousands of years of that, but she couldn’t find another man that loved Kali the woman.
There was no announcer today, there was simply no need. Everyone knew the match ups, and everyone knew they'd be to the death. The Bacchantes song lanced through the heart, stoking the savageness that lurked in meat. Skittering along Cesare’s nerves, it teetered on the edge of pain, rousing irritation and plucking at his rage. The savage brother of lust rose from its slumber, blood hot and red, pain inflicted for pleasure, domination and humiliation, depraved needs slinking from the darkness at the Bacchantes call.
Kali’s breath caught, pupils dilating with pleasure. Black shirt showing hard points of arousal, her fingers caressed up Cesare’s thigh suggestively. The Umbrae Lunae gloried in blood sports, enjoying them with the simple viciousness of a child.
Anastasia and Alexandra focused on the grass, breaths low and shallow as they waited for the event to start. Elizabeth's eyes gleamed with need, red rising along corpse pale cheeks.
Blaez's nakedness was natural after the time Cesare had spent with the boy. Leaping to their feet, the students cheered, the stands vibrating with a pulsing bass beat pounded out by thousands of feet. Cesare’s bones thrummed with the deep rhythm, a primitive war drum as hundreds of people showed their allegiance. Rising above it and weaving through it, the Bacchante matched the sound, if the booming was a hammer smashing into the senses, the Bacchante was a scalpel flaying bloody nerves open to the air.
Across from the naked boy, a thing buzzed out of the opposite arch. Hovering above the ground, it was a creature born in the rotting mind of a mad god. Four feet tall and shaped like a child, its chitin gleamed with impossible colors. Iridescent green ran up smooth legs, black lines radiating out from joints. The green shifted to an electric bluish purple at the waist, washing out to a metallic magenta at its extremities. Its feet were three toed things tipped with a chitin's razor edge.
Its angular head came down to a point, almond shaped, compound eyes locked on the naked boy. The face was disturbingly smooth without the touchstones of ears or mouth to go off of. Four wings beat frantically along its back; creating a hummingbird’s smooth hover. The wings were the key to the things insane speed. He’d never found an account of a queen landing and going hand to hand with an opponent.
Watching the thing hover across the field, Cesare was confidant he’d made the right choices, not just for the girls but for himself. The queen moved with the speed of a hummingbird, using its wings not only to dominate when and where the fight would happen. If they were pressed hard, they could disengage and go high. When they wanted to go for the kill, there was no way their opponent could escape. That maneuverability had to be checked before they could be destroyed.
Blaez shifted while still distant from the thing. Ripping apart, his flesh fell in strips as his body grew, wet red muscles bursting out of the weak fleshy prison, the boy dying to make way for the killing machine.
Long claws tore trenches in the ground, small spindly legs stumbling forward. His incredibly large thigh were dark with coarse fur, ripples flowed across him as enormous muscles bunched and relaxed with each step. The dark fur flowed up above its waist, disappearing in a wasteland of scars, melted flesh, and ropy scars. Deformed with muscle, its torso was a thing of primal violence.
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Gorilla like arms stretched down to its knees, tipped with scimitar claws. Bone ripped through flesh, splitting the digits, claret dripped off the points of bone. Hunching forward on its curved spine, the werewolf's head swung from side to side, grotesque teeth of yellow and white savaging its lips into hamburger. A disgusting stew of blood and spit drooled down its muzzle, slicking its scarred chest.
Cesare had seen it all before, what he was waiting for was what would come after the change. The training they'd gone through had only one goal, getting the two to work together. Blaez couldn’t win this by himself. The only way was to form a temporary truce with his better half, to do that, they’d had to give the wolf something to live for.
When life's beaten you down and left you in the gutter to bleed in the shit and garbage, when no one's ever looked at you and thought you were worth comforting, you learned to stop caring. After living everyday watching as someone else got all the love you craved, living doesn’t matter. You kept fighting because it’s all you’ve ever known, but you don’t fight to stay alive.
Cesare had to show the wolf there are things worth living for. That one second can change your life, bringing something great into your life. The wolf had wanted a friend, needed love, support, and understanding. If Cesare had done his job, that instinctive part of Blaez would help the boy get through this fight. Because for the first time, life wasn't only humiliation and pain.
Curling forward, the werewolf’s hand hit the ground, forming a three pointed stalk. The thumping base of stomping feet shattered like new spun glass, shock hitting the crowd. Gone was the shambling, hulking thing, falling forward like a drunk about to spill across the ground. This werewolf moved with a heavy grace, body rippling in a slinking crouch. Soon the wolf prowled across the grass with only the sound of the Bacchante to push it on under the students awed eyes.
Cesare settled back with a sigh of relief. “Don’t get it twisted, it’s not like I care if the thing lives or dies. I just don’t want my work to go for nothing,” He said in response to the looks the women gave him.
Kali's voice was quiet, so soft that not even her harem outside the box could hear her. “Look at them,” Kali said, gesturing at the whispering students. “It doesn’t matter if they don’t know the truth of how the change was fashioned. They’ll spread the story and the na’wals will come to find out how.”
Ignoring the other's, Kali focused on him. “You’ll need to start thinking about where you stand, Cesare. If you come out and say it was a fluke, they’ll still test you, but you can fail on purpose. If you replicate it, they'll hunt you to the ends of the earth. You’re a messiah to them, they’ll do anything to own you. You’ll need my backing to keep them from storming the school for you.”
Cesare nodded slowly, he understood what she was driving at. He'd have to decide if he wanted to be part of the na’walsworld. Cesare didn’t have a problem with lying, it came down to if he thought the beastly bastards could be of any use. He’d never be anyone’s messiah, but if his help bought him influence he could turn into support .… Of course, none of that mattered if he was dead.
Hovering in the air still as stone, the low buzzing and blurred air behind it were the only signs of life. Armored in chitin, the queen was incapable of expression. There was no play of muscle, no twitch of feet or cocking of the head, devoid of eyelids, it didn't blink. It would be wrong to think it couldn’t feel, but there was no guarantee it’s feelings would be anything Cesare could understand.
The monster was a blank slate. All the Umbrae Lunae Cesare had met were things of blood and bone, their instincts were laid bare to his eyes, sex, territory, food, luxury, or cruelty. None of that mattered with the Hive, they were alien in a way nothing had been.
As if on cue, the music leapt up, screeching across the stadium. Blaez surged forward in a spray of dirt and torn earth, but when you’re over a thousand pounds of killing intent, you don’t move fast. Zipping back and up, the queen froze into the space above the wolf and over thirty feet away. The things body swayed with the movement like a doll being moved by a child’s hand.
Stopping, Blaez hunched over in a three-point stance, glaring up at the hovering abomination. A low growl pulsed from the wolf, the frustrated fury lacing the Bacchantes song. The insect was the dominate force in this fight, it held all the cards. It got to decide when and how they'd tangle, and there was nothing the wolf could do about it. But that could be weakness if the wolf used it correctly.
Buzzing in the air, the thing darted to the side, watching the shift of the werewolf’s body before shooting away. It played it out again and again, each time the thing waited for the wolf to turn with it before blurring away. The bug was judging the wolf, seeing how fast it moved, what Blaez’s reaction time was to unexpected shifts.
There was no warning. One second it was hovering in midair like hells own dragonfly, and the next it was blurring down in a swoop straight at Blaez. The wolf moved into the attack, presenting its massive chest. What was supposed to be a glancing probe turned into a lethal attack, the queen's arm flashed forward, burying itself into the werewolf’s stomach. Sharper than steel, black chitin lanced through muscle and flesh, the bugs shoulder slamming into the werewolf, its spearing claw sheathed in ruptured organs.
A wolf in the wild would never seek the lethal spear. It was their nature to preserve their skin, but a man could see ahead. A man could plan through pain and death; decide there were things worth dying for. They could make a tactical choice to suffer an injury to gain a murderous advantage.
A slashing attack is tactically perfect, a mere slice of a second, but a thrust is different. While a cut is all follow through and moving on, a piercing blow forces you to pull the blade out. It's a fraction of a second, and for a killing blow, worth it. The whole fight had rested on that one choice.
Exploding forward, Blaez’s paw slammed into the queen’s chest, powering the bug to the ground. Wings crumpled under meat weaponized by over a thousand pounds. Pinned to the grass, the queen arms and legs transformed into a blender set on insane. Slicing through werewolf meat, it sent sprays of blood and flesh flying, one bone like claw tumbled through the air, landing point up in the ground.
The pillar of Blaez’s arm was stripped to the bone in seconds, flesh hanging like draperies as it endured the queens fury. Blaez leaned into his arm, keeping the pressure on the bug. The five-foot spindly monster was tiny next to the hulking bulk of the werewolf, a thing of deadly power brought low by the primitive.
Snapping forward, the wolf jaws opened wide. The bug thrust its taloned arms into the werewolf throat. Crimson poured from the holes, drenching the bug in stinking scarlet. But the wolf wouldn't be denied, jaws collapsing with finality on the queen’s head. Stronger than steel, the carapace shattered under the supernatural power of the werewolf's jaws.
Stumbling back, gushes of blood drenched the werewolf’s chest from the embedded talons. Flesh quivered, crawling over lacerated skin, new meat growing into gaping holes with cancerous growth. As quick as it could heal, the wolf was still wobbly from losing gallons of blood. With each second that passed, Blaez grew stronger. That was the real difference between a werewolf and a man, a man worsened at a drastic pace when hurt but a werewolf only got stronger.
Booming around them the crowd cheered, like some strange beast. Bound by dark lusts, the mass of meat joined into a single entity, they craved death and humiliation. This was who they were, humans reviled their sadistic needs, pushed them down and strived to forget them, the Umbrae Lunae embraced them.
No, that wasn’t right. It was here at the Sanguine Nativitate that they embraced themselves fully. The poison of humanity shed for this one event, for a few hours they gloried in being true. A tiger didn't hate itself for being a sadistic killer, a lion didn't grieve for the wildebeest, a wolf shed no tears for the deer under its teeth. If you can’t embrace who you are, you'll never be able to accept anyone else.
The werewolf shifted without fanfare, stepping out of the decaying flesh without any of his usual grandstanding. The boy’s eyes ran over the audience, locking onto Cesare with an almost audible click, the tortured boy giving one slow nod. Thanks, admiration, and a promise, were all in that one nod, a language only another man would understand.
Turning his eyes from the werewolf, Cesare looked down on the discarded. The queen didn’t look like much, a stick figure, limbs akimbo, childlike body broken, leaking greenish ichor. When no one came to collect the body, the medics ventured out. Grabbing its arms, they dragged it off the field like a piece of trash.
“The dead don’t matter to the Hive,” Kali said quietly. “They worship no gods and don’t believe in an afterlife. Normally they'd give its body to the grubs, but it'll decompose long before they can get home, making it worthless.”
Cesare nodded at the words, another piece of the puzzle falling into place. People believed, they needed faith in something. The Hive was different; they were the cold brutality of fact or maybe they were the only form of life born without a god.