Prison Asalus, Sector 12, Earth

I stand in an office darkly lit by a fire. In front of the fire lies a wooden desk where Kava is sitting. The room is almost a library, as small as it is. There are bookshelves on all sides of the room except for the entrance. The rug beneath where I stand is red with swirling, pale patterns ingrained.

I shuffle my wet, dirty boots, smearing the rug with mud and dried flakes of blood. My face feels raw and hot and I try my best not to scratch or rub it.

Kava looks begrudgingly at my feet and then makes eye contact.

“So, it was for nothing. You killed another person, for what?”

It’s stated as if proven. As if it's a fact.

I disagree.

I immediately stop the shuffling and meet her gaze harshly. “It was not,” I grit, charred skin that is my face pulling uncomfortably from the dried blood caked on it. “He knew my identity and I could not risk-“

“You’re ruining my reputation with your risk,” she exclaims, her face turning beet red with anger.

I flinch but keep my stature.

“After I took you in and helped you,” she continues, almost painfully. ”I warned you not to step out of line, and look at what you did! I can only do this so many times, Gratier.”

I clamp my mouth shut and pierce my lips. I stare back at her steely eyes and repress a rebuttal, knowing full well the consequences.

She takes a couple of deep breaths and leans back in her black leather chair. Her short ash brown hair sways in front of her eyes. Her long, black painted nail swipes the strands behind her ears. She closes her steel eyes and opens them again, looking past me, to the door.

“It’s okay,” she finally sighs. “It’s fine. I can clean this up.” She then looks directly at me with a purposeful look. “Get cleaned, Gratier. You’re making my rug filthy. I would even say I smelled you from the building.”

I would blush if I could but my face was already red and warm enough.

I nod and quickly turn away towards the double doors.

“Ah! I didn’t say you could leave.”

My shoulders sag and I turn my body towards her. I stare into the fire behind.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to look at me.” She chuckles suddenly and I strain to keep my eyes off her. My skin pricks with unease. “After eighteen years, you’re still the same kid covered in your own blood. You haven’t grown a bit. I guess I can blame the strigoi part of you for stunting your growth.”

A lecture.

I already know what’s coming before she says it. That’s what happens when your keeper raises and trains you for so long.

“I’ve thought long and hard about your condition. I thought guard duty would be a good use for you rather than mercenary work. That’s what the new Council said you’d be good at. Mercenary work. And, personally, I didn’t want to bring you back out into the battlefield due to your history.”

“Makes sense,” I mutter.

I know the new counsel replaced the old after I murdered them so long ago. I don’t know much about them but Kava has said they’ve tried to obtain me for years. She never allowed them though, and I assumed it was because they struck some kind of deal. If I remember from one of our lectures, if I proved that I wasn’t a threat, they wouldn’t have to take me away.

I hear Kava sigh. “I worry about you, Gratier. I do, but you doing this does not create a good look for us. If I didn’t find you, someone else would. They would have made you a slave again and put you back in chains.”

I shudder for the second time today at the mere thought. I try my damndest to keep these memories and thoughts at bay. This is a record, or one I haven’t made in a long time.

They wouldn’t, would they?

Of course they would. If they’re anything like their previous, they’d try to use me for their experiments or throw me out into another war I never want to be a part of. I’m an asset. They wouldn’t just kill me. I’m one of the impossible and a living undead at that. I have value, as unfortunate as the circumstances.

“How about you take a break? No, I almost forgot, I have something to tell you.”

The room goes quiet and I dare not look at her. I didn’t want to see her face.

“Gratier, look at me.”

I look at her and feel my chest ache at the pained look on her face. Frustration is plastered in her eyes.

“Yes,” I ask tentatively.

“The Council asked for you.”

I feel my body shake, my burning face warm, now hot. I think I feel the crusted blood harden a little against my raw skin. I take a deep breath, breathing through my nose and try my best to calm down.

“This wasn’t my choice but since your accident with Tracey, I don’t have an option.”

“Why do they need me?” I feel fear break out on the skin and curse at how obviously scared I am.

They will torture!

They wish to make me their slave!

Just like Ramesios did! As the vile creatures before him tried!

“Hey.”

I snap back to reality and feel warmth under my fingers. I look down and realize my left glove has torn. Blood drips from my clenched knuckles and I loosen up to see four crescent shaped holes etched into my palm.

Kava sighs as I look back at her. “First the mud and flaky blood, now this.” She reaches under her desk and places a bandage in front of her. “Here. I didn’t mean to cause more stress than already present.”

She pushes the bandage toward me and I quickly grab it.

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure they won’t do you any harm. Just an assessment of the people in their territory. I fear they don’t trust you.” She glares at me knowingly. “They are also considering having you work for them instead of me.”

“They still want to use me.” I state with barely a semblance of surprise. “Because of what I did to their predecessors.”

Her brows furrow, but she slowly nods. “Yes, that, too. And may I remind you of your fellow guardsman once again. That man is not the first you’ve killed here. As I said before, this was probably the last straw for them. There’s no telling what they’d do, really.” Her eyes mist over in worry.

She glances down and I notice she’s still staring at the unused bandage in my hand. I take off my glove and start to wrap my bloody hand. I barely feel anything as I tighten the wrap against my palm. It doesn’t take long for the bandage to be soaked red.

“They also want to know how your mental state is. They have been reluctant lately.” She pauses and then says, “apparently, now it looks as if they’re ready to see you. As your act earlier only proved their worries.”

She may be right. Maybe I shouldn’t have killed him. It was the wrong move. I also couldn’t just let him get away with the information he had. Maybe me telling him was an excuse to kill…

I ask, “Are you coming with me?”

I know I sound like a clingy child for asking but I don’t know anyone else who I can trust. It aches my heart just thinking about leaving her even for a few days. I try not to let the small emotional dilemma reach my eyes. I couldn’t tell if she could see them watering or not. I feel the burning heat of embarrassment on my face.

“No.” She shakes her head solemnly. “I am sending an escort with you and a handler. Your handler should be able to fill in most of the details,” she assures.

“What was it like for you?”

“Well, I’m a witch after all. They just tested my loyalty and viability. They just don’t like me having a Lycan hybrid in my care. Especially knowing your history.” Her pained eyes at the mention say something else that creates some curiosity.

My brain bubbles with a question about magick but I shut that down quickly. I know full well how touchy she is on the subject. I’ve never seen her perform any, but I know she’s well versed in potions and medicine. You don’t really need magick if you have that, do you?

“What day will it be?”

She presses her black painted claws against her chin and looks at me in thought. “Three days from now.”

I nod. “Okay.” Fear pricks my skin again but I don’t let it get any further than that. “I guess I’ll get prepared.”

I move my eyes around the perimeter of the room looking for-

“Oh, I forgot.”

Kava reaches under her desk again and tosses me my helmet.

“Thanks,” I say. I fit it over my head, and finally turn to the double doors and walk out.

As soon as I step out of the door, one of the fellow guards approaches me from the side. Supposedly they’re one of the guards overseeing the hall leading into the warden’s office.

I acknowledge them with a curt nod and continue walking down the dim hallway.

Only lanterns against the stone walls are what guides me down the straight end tunnel. The harsh smell of metal and chlorine stains the air. The rough cement floor scraps under my boots as I lazily pick up my feet. Before I can turn and go down the winding stairs that lead to the main hall and cells, the stench of sweat and blood mingling in the air, I feel someone put a hand on my shoulder.

I turn back to see the same guard that tried to approach me earlier. I only recognize them because of their light, azure, blue eyes. They wear a black fur coat, with thick dark brown leather armor underneath. Their obsidian colored helmet is in the shape of an eagle, declaring their status, unlike mine which is a standard round.

“You’re a higher guardsman,” I state.

“And you’re the Undead Dog.” His voice is deep and resounding. “Don’t worry, Kava gave me permission,” he quickly says, noticing my shoulders beginning to tense.

I calm down and blink at him in a silent question. I assume I know why he’s here but I want to be sure.

“I’m your overseer for the trip,” he answers.

“Of course,” I say with a polite tone. “I’m assuming you know why I did it.”

He shakes his head. “I can assume why. You usually don’t kill without reason.”

“And how would you know that?” I eye him suspiciously.

“After Grace, I’ve been watching you from afar.”

My eyes widen momentarily.

Grace.

She was the first to notice. She was also the first to threaten me. She was a vampire of course and I had just murdered her Council after I was initiated. She stated she could smell the rotten mutt on me and threatened to end me in my sleep. I took her out right there.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Grace was killed a day after I came here. I had eyes on me for that long?”

He shrugs. “You literally killed the most powerful vampires in the continent and had just murdered a vampire underling. You don’t think they wouldn’t send people to watch you?”

I nod in understanding.

How could I have been watched for so long and hadn’t noticed?

A slip up on my part. Maybe an idiot as well.

I sigh. “I suppose you’re right. I also suppose you know Kava well?”

“She’s my mother.”

I freeze and glare at him.

Kava had a son and didn’t tell me? I thought witches couldn’t have children?

Magic users are usually infertile and steal their children or sacrifice pregnant women through a ritual to birth a biological child of their own. It was a curse placed on them by the old gods for doubting their power and betraying their wishes. It was a way of slowly killing off their kind though they found alternatives to combat this.

Children who are stolen undergo a traditional practice which usually most kids don’t survive. Kava never went into detail of this, but I do know she was one of the victims for this method. Usually a symbol of runes are placed for magick to enter, invisible to the naked eye but glow accordingly to the magick they use.

Children who are born through the sacrifice of pregnant mothers come out naturally as witches/wizards and are supposedly stronger than the stolen children. No markings are found, but raw magick manipulates the environment around them which is a tell.

I wonder if she stole him, or killed someone for him.

I squint at him and take a breath. Lycans or vampires can’t see magickal aura which would dictate a witch’s and/or wizard’s origins. Lycans can smell the raw magick on them if they know where to look, unlike my strigoi counterpart.

Oddly enough though, no smell comes with him. He’s as tasteless as the air around him.

Strange.

“Adopted,” he says, glaring back at me.

“Oh.” I turn from his icy stare and begin to make my way downstairs.

The man follows me.

“Matthew,” he whispers.

I don’t reply but understand.

Maybe he won’t get in trouble for telling me due to the circumstances.

“You don’t have to reply.”

I don’t and make it to the landing.

As I walk down the halls, we finally make it to the room of empty, dark cells. Grime and stale blood decorates the interiors. The smell of old sweat and other unappealing smells also cling in the air. Thanks to the mask, it sort of lessens the intensity of the stench.

I notice for a moment how quiet it suddenly is. Usually you could hear screaming in the distance from tortured inmates and angry prisoners. I hear nothing as I make it to the end of the hall, only hearing mine, and Matthew’s footsteps bouncing off the walls.

I enter the end of the door to be greeted by the icy winds. I blink away the snow stinging my eyes to see the main room. It’s rather big as we stand on the second floor overlooking the recess area below us. The only thing that separates us from them is a glass dome shielding the snow.

From here I could see various species of people and monsters. Some relatively normal looking, others resembling blobs of flesh that are either foreign or of some familiarity to animals.

Everyone seems to be silently gathered below us, waiting for something.

“I think they're having a meeting.” Matthew peers over the railing, moving his head in every direction like an owl looking for prey.

“Or maybe they’re plotting their escape,” I deadpan.

Matthew shoves my arm and I quickly sneer in his direction. I drop it when I see him smile at me, a playful light almost reflective against his lake blue eyes.

“Oh, calm down. They couldn’t escape from this place even if they wanted to.” He smiles coyly, reminding me of a snake, and looks back down to the crowd below us. “Let’s figure out what the gathering's about.”

The grown man before me practically runs down the grated pathway like an excited child. I look in awe as he makes it to the other side of the floor and looks back at me. He beckons me with the wave of his hand and opens the door.

I shake my head and walk briskly to him. He lets me pass him through the door and we both head down the metal stairs into the room. I take a silent sigh of relief as warm air coats me and melts the stubborn remains of snow into my clothes.

The room is rather large. The floor is cold stone and the walls are the same. Cold tables would be sitting at the back end of the room adjacent to the stairs for people to sit and eat. A counter is on the right hand side where cafeteria workers make their digested slug for their needs. Even vampires and other blood sucking creatures like some daemons are forced to take part.

It looks dreary to anyone who's entered here. I mean, most are stuck here for the rest of their life anyway so the glum represents their situation. Only the worst of the worst, the unfit, make it into this prison. It’s surprising some of those who are too dangerous to be let out are in the same ranks as me if they behave well enough.

Well, it would make sense actually considering my history.

As we both make it down to the landing, we are greeted by a demanding tone.

“Don’t make me ask again,” screams a feminine voice.

I take another look at the crowd and note that many are semi circled around a guard. I also notice that not only are the regular prisoners here, but the unredeemed ones as well.

So that would explain the lack of screaming.

Unredeemed prisoners are usually punished regularly to make up for the mass murders they are accused with or them attempting to go against the prison itself. Many could stay here for a couple of months and each permanent scar or missing limb is a life they’ve stolen before. Some stay here for months while others years before dying eventually from the injuries as punishment.

I notice recently punished prisoners, blood still seeping through their recent wounds, along with some other guards speckled on the outer rim of them. They look as confused as us.

I tense at the feeling of my palm sting and realize I’ve been clutching the wound there for some time. I dare not take a peek but notice more warmth soaking the bandage even more.

I curse this condition I’m born in…

“Hey!”

I hear Matthew shout and spin around at him practically screaming in my ear. I give him an irritated look but he ignores me and points.

“You’re breaking the code of anonymity! I demand you to come here and face punishment immediately!”

His voice deepens in his commanding tone. I’m almost surprised his voice can get any lower than it is.

“The fuck is this?!”

I quickly turn back to see the culprit of this gathering.

The guard that’s surrounded is helmetless, boring a face of what I guess is anger. She glares back at us. Her face is almost bat-like though not exactly. She has the smushed nose of a vampire bat but her face is rather human looking besides the four red-tinted eyes piercing at us. Her skin is dark and her long, tangled hair is silvery against the light fading into the room above her.

“Is she really a she?” I look at Matthew and nod my head towards her.

His eyes stay plastered, once again ignoring my existence. He marches past me, in front of the onlookers and waves his hand dismissively.

“Take these prisoners back to their cells, now.”

He didn’t have to yell. The anger in the command was as clear as the fear in the guards’ eyes. They immediately took charge and gathered the prisoners back up the stairs. Some prisoners struggle against them but one quick jab or kick shuts most of it down immediately.

The only one left stands the woman. She stands on top of a table. Her shoulders are hunched and her back is raised as if she’s about to attack. Her arms are spread from her side as her shaking hands are clenched in fists.

She growls, “how dare you step into here and take away my prisoners? Do you even know what they did?”

She jumps from the table and steps towards him, looking to explode. I can almost see the steam from where I stand, which is near the entrance of the room. Matthew and the woman meet in the middle. The battle of the furies will be glorious!

Matthew doesn’t bat an eye at her rage. Instead he holds up his hand directly in her face, meeting her ravenous gaze.

“Please tell me your name, guardsman.”

“What’s the point of it anyway?” She slaps his hand away. He glares at her as his hand falls back to his side. “You won’t even hear what I have to say! I have a reason for this! They stole from me! I-“

“Name.”

His voice lowers to a threatening tone. It would send shivers down anyone’s spine, even my own.

I eye him curiously.

Who is this guy?

I know he’s Kava’s son and all but how could I have not noticed him in all my years here. He couldn’t have been here for that long, could he?

“No,” she snarls, which snaps me from my thoughts. “Just because you’re new doesn’t mean you can just boss me around! I’m your senior-“

I don’t even see it.

The woman doubles over in a breathless cry. Her dark face turns purple and her sharp teeth are clenched in pain. She tries to regain her stance but Matthew quickly grabs her by the hair and pulls her up to meet his gaze.

“Name, please.”

“Sha,” she groans.

“Okay, Sha, do you understand the punishment you’re about to receive for releasing your code of anonymity and going against your higher ranking officer?”

Anger is rejuvenated back in her eyes as she opens her mouth to speak. I watch in surprise at the quickness of it all.

He touches the middle of her forehead with just an index finger. Her body practically implodes. A blue fire engulfs her and I watch as she silently screams for forgiveness. It doesn’t take long for the condensed flame to take hold and reduce her to a black stain in the cement floor. No ash or smoke to be seen.

She is being sent away to be judged.

It’s one of the few times I’ve seen it. It’s not common but it’s not rare either. No one really knows what happens to those who are sent, and only the higher ranking guards are able to send others to this in-between realm. All we know is that those people are eventually killed and never to be seen again.

I whistle. “Wow, nice. You didn’t even have to hear what she was going to say,” I joke.

Matthew turns to me and shrugs. The cold anger went as fast as lightning. I almost clapped my hand for him at the sudden change of mood.

How can this guy be jolly one second and be scary mad the next? This guy is full of oddities.

“Alright, enough of that,” he sighs. He meets my eyes with his. A confident gleam dances on the surface. “How old are you, Dog?”

“For you? Wolf if we’re trying to get along,” I correct. “Thirty.”

“Hmm.” He places his hand on his chin as if in thought. He then walks towards me. “Thirty,” he mumbles. “I was five when I saw you come in. Guess what that makes me now?”

“Twenty-three?” I look at him credulously. “I would have thought you were older.”

“Right?” I hear mischief in his voice and again I wonder where that scary, commanding man went. “Well, no. I became a higher guardsman two years ago.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“A test. You’ve been here long enough to know, and I don’t like keeping secrets.” He stops there.

One word breeches my thoughts more than anything.

Know what?

I look at him quizzingly and it seems we search each other for a glimpse if either of us know what that means.

Fuck if I know.

He sighs, “you haven’t been thinking I was the sole person watching you this whole time. I was twelve when you were nineteen. I recently became a guard at twenty-one, which is why that daemon wanted a piece of me.”

“Okay, yeah, makes sense, but why are we having this conversation here?” I make a big wave of my arms to gesture at the open recess area around us.

No one is present at the moment but you would never know if someone is eavesdropping in the nearby halls.

“I can take you to my office,” he suggests.

“Yeah,” I grumble. “To talk about who has been watching me these last eighteen years? Sounds like a pointless conversation to me.”

“What’s with the sudden change of attitude?” He narrows his eyes at me. “I saved your ass. If I hadn’t been there, one of the Council would have seen you instead, and sent you back to their court as soon as they saw you kill that man.” He doesn’t raise his voice but the annoyance is clear.

I shudder at the idea and mentally slap myself. “Well, thank you, if that’s what you want to hear.”

“No.” He shakes his head. He begins to whisper, “I’m here to warn you. The only reason I’m here is to cover your ass. Mo- Kava gave me this position to protect you.”

“Anything special,” I ask.

“Yes. I’m not sure if Kava told you but the Council wants any excuse to take you away from her. They want control over you. So when we get to your trial, let me do the talking. I’m your only way out.”

Not surprising.

They’ve been on my ass since I was whisked away by Kava. They only want me back to control me, because they are scared. Scared of me going feral again and killing their precious citizens and maybe turning against them.

I don’t understand how Kava got away with keeping me as her little pet and not getting exiled right then and there.

Well, if she kept Matthew a secret for so long, would it really be that hard for her?

Sure, I’ll let him do the talking. It would only make the most sense considering they don’t favor me and probably don’t know that Matthew is connected to Kava since he’s not a clear magick user.

If he’s a magick user.

“Alright, I get it. Can I take a shower now?” I can still feel the dried blood stick uncomfortably against my skin and I really want to clean the wound in my hand before an infection sets in.

He nods. “Yeah, do that.”

He walks past me and back up the stairs. He opens the door to the windy, cold air outside.

I feel irritation bubble to the surface almost suddenly at the annoyance of the situation and turn to him as he exits the room. “Why do you care anyway?” I blurt out.

He doesn’t look at me but I can see his shoulders slouch at the sound of my voice. He stands there halfway out the door and mutters, “Because Kava cares.”

And then he’s gone.

My stomach growls.