by Zoey Rivera
She needed blood.
She needed to find him.
She needed to feed.
She wanted to feed on him.
A metallic scent wafted through the air and she knew where to find him.
Chapter 7
Crimson was painted across the streets as Hallifax was bathed in blood. No one in Hallifax could have predicted the amassing force of the legion of vampires. In sheer quantity the vampires had more than enough of a population to overtake the city twice over, and with the amount of bloodshed thus far, it seemed like that is exactly what they intended to do. A sea of loot screens washed the city with a faint glow through the nights. It was more than an onslaught. It was a massacre.
“Little brother,” Richard called out in a sing-song voice. He was practically dancing through the corpses in the street with Sarah skipping sweetly behind him, as he called out to Aidan. “Oh, little brother, where are you?” His laughter echoed off the buildings to the small spider hole the group had made for themselves.
“Lil brother? Are you?” Lorcan started to ask Aidan but he stopped himself once he made eye contact with him. He could tell, without a doubt, from the look of utter hatred in his eyes that this vampire was no kinsman to Aidan.
“He killed my sister,” Aidan said. And they left it at that. The other few guards that laid there next to them shifted awkwardly. They looked to Lorcan for orders but he waved them down. They would see how this played out for now.
“Lying out in the open? Really? That's hardly strategic. I'd expect as much from you considering you are over three years out of practice, and no little brother, the AI of those beasts in the Mir don't count. You haven't had practice crushing the existence from another human. To feel the life force drain out of their bodies and have hollowness fill their eyes. You've never known the joy of logging out and having the pleasure of overhearing stories of your slaughters of beloveds across the room. To have your name chanted and cheered by the Elites,” Richard rambled on as Aidan laid there motionless, gritting his teeth as he listened to Richard describe these horrifics with a child-like glee in his voice. “Ah well, maybe Shy could tell you how it is. I'm sure she's done it numerous times already.”
Aidan stood up from safety to stand face-to-face with Richard. He glared, seething with rage. He couldn't even begin to form his hatred into words. Richard’s eyebrows shot up, as if he was impressed at Aidan for actually standing up to face him.
A grin crept onto his lips. Aidan swept his hand to pull up his inventory and tapped the screen until a staff materialized into his hand. A flame burst to life above it and the battle began. If there was one thing he had studied all this time, it was magic. He knew that swordplay would have no true benefit in a fight against a vampire.
He began hurling fireballs at his foe. Casting them one after another as Richard evaded each one. Stronger. He needed to cast something stronger. Aidan’s body began to glow with a blue aura. Lettering of incantations circling along the outer rim of the orb he had created around himself. He knew that this would practically deplete his mana-reserves but he was determined to give everything he had to kill Richard. The text and lettering spun faster and faster around him until it whisked into a flame encapsulating his entire body. He screamed and fire shot out of his mouth.
Richard stepped back, mildly concerned about this new turn of events. He hadn't expected this level of skill from Aidan. Sarah stood about ten feet back from Richard. She immediately noticed Richard’s foot slide back to retreat and jumped into the fight. Seeing her, the rest of the guild began flooding the streets.
A barrier of loyal clan members all stood between Aidan and his target, their leader. They swarmed ready to lay down their lives but with full confidence that majority of them wouldn't have to. He scoffed beneath his flame capsule.
“Now, now, this is hardly fair, my children. Aidan can't handle all of us at once. Certainly his friends are no competition for us either,” Richard boasted safely hidden behind his faithful legion. Richard smiled knowingly and pulled up his dashboard to check the time. His grin got even bigger seeing it. “Besides, I can't do this all at once. That would be anticlimactic, don't you think?”
This last sentence he spoke to the hovering oculi that were watching the slaughter.
Richard sauntered forward through the sea of vampire, so he was just barely out of reach of Aidan. He smiled softly as Aidan’s eyes glared him down. If only there were a spell to kill with just mere sight, Aidan would be casting it. Richard tsked with pouting lips at the rage filled boy.
“Oh chin up, don't look so glum. After all, it's a reunion you want, no? Going on about how I stole our beloved Shy from you for all these years. Well, she's yours to have back now,” Richard shrugged so nonchalantly.
Aidan’s brows furrowed in confusion. There was no way to bring back the dead in Eden. Once you were dead, that was it. A neurotransmitter sent a message from the implants in each player’s bodies in their hab module and terminated their existence.
It was impossible to have brought Cheyenne back unless somehow Richard had found a way to encode artificial intelligence into the game and create non player characters, which was impossible. Johnny stepped forward, closing the distance slightly more between himself and Richard.
“What do you mean?” Aidan asked, his hand instinctively reaching for a pendant around his neck. The necklace was an exact in-game replica of his sister’s outside of Eden. Cheyenne had it specially made for Aidan to remind him of her, no matter what happened to them.
“I mean as I said, you may have your sister back. She is no use to me any further in her stubborn state. I tried to convince her civilly to join our guild but she simply kept refusing. The offer will still be open for while she has returned, but on the condition of your head,” Richard smiled wryly.
“Dead or alive, she’d never join your kind. You monsters are murderers and pawns of the Elite. You kill for joy and she would never have stood for that life. She’s not like you,” Aidan scoffed.
“Well, she is and she isn't. You see, it's her kind too. That's our dilemma, little brother. You may have our lovely Shy back, but she is one of us,” his fangs exposed themselves to Aidan.
Aidan’s nose flared with fury. One of them? She was a vampire. She was made into a bloodsucking abomination. She could no longer stand in pride in the sunny streets of Gwintin as she had. She was no longer the sister he once knew. He closed his eyes and breathed in the tragic truth.
She was a creature of the Mir now.
There was no way a human soul could last after a transformation to the other side. He came to acceptance that Cheyenne, his sister, was dead. She had been dead for the past three years and she was still dead. No smooth talking, and especially nothing from Richard, could change that.
He must have somehow worked a deal with an Elite to reanimate her corpse or something to allow her body to be controlled by the clan to do their bidding. There was no way that Shy herself could be willingly existing in this world and not have found him earlier. It couldn't be her. There was no way.
“No, you killed my sister three years ago. I saw you kill her, just as you brought on the first vampire rapture of Gwintin. We fought long and hard to restore the city to what it is now and I'll be damned to an artificial life as your vampiric kin-slaves before I believe you have my sister,” Aidan’s words shocked Richard.
He hadn't expected such a hostile response to the reunion but rather, open arms of acceptance for his sister. He considered what this might mean for his game but shook his head and deemed it an interesting twist.
“Artificial life? Little brother, I exist in the real world just as well as you do. As does any of my legion you see among us. There's no immortality coded into Eden. There's no reanimation. Think of vampirism as a class that you're linked to for the eternity of your existence in Eden. You can't switch from rogue to vampire to witch doctor and then back to a fighter. Once you're with us, you are family. That's why we are so firm on callin
g ourselves kin. Because that is what we are,” Richard explained with open arms and a booming voice that echoed to the furthest oculi in the crowd.
“No, Shy is dead. If you have her body, it is just that. A body. But my sister is dead,” Aidan stubbornly insisted on his reality.
“So you’d slaughter your own sister then?” Richard was clearly getting annoyed. His voice tensed as he posed his question to the dense boy.
His arms folded across his chest, he squeezed his hands tightly around his biceps, digging his fingers in. He felt like they had returned to years prior, standing across a table. How he would love for the old Shy to come in and set a roast between them as she weakly attempted to diffuse the argument.
Despite what Cheyenne thought, Richard did want what was best for her. He wanted himself for her and herself for him. Was that so much to ask? Especially in a world full of xenophobic people like Aidan.
“That’s not my sister, Cheyenne is dead. You killed her three years ago. You took her corpse and made her into one of your abominations. That thing you have created... isn’t my sister,” Aidan’s mind had set. His voice hardened at this proclamation. It was the only reality that made sense. So, to Aidan’s mind, it had to be true, no matter what Richard said. Richard conceded and allowed Aidan to keep his false sense of reality.
“Fine, brother. Have it your way. She is a mutant, an abomination. She is no longer your sister. She is a murderer and a monster. And she is out for your blood. So prepare for it. Get your best defenses, if you even have any left. Get your greatest weapons. Most importantly, Aidan,” he paused a moment, letting Aidan hear his name ring in his ears,”sleep with your eyes open tonight.”
Richard’s laughter after this declaration was something of terror that Aidan had never heard escape another player’s mouth in his whole experience in Eden. There was nothing to compare it to. It was rage. It was insanity. It was anger. It was joy.
Unmistakably though, under the layers of torment and masochistic pleasure, there was sorrow. That is what rang hauntingly in Aidan’s mind. Richard retreated with his army.
He spoke one final note on his exit, “After all, you know how much I care about good presentation. A bloodbath of defenseless townspeople is only dramatic so many times, after all.”
He turned back one final time to really look at what Aidan had become. He swished his cape as he proceeded toward the gates to the Mir Forest. The sky whirred with excitement as the oculi informed the Elites of the slaughter that was to proceed. It would be a bloodbath comparable only to the beginnings of Eden, they proclaimed. Everyone would prepare.
It was his fault that this war was being brought upon the people of Hallifax. Aidan set himself up in the abandoned Pale Pixel Pub building. Lorcan had accompanied him back to the tavern to debrief. He had joined Aidan to protect him on the way back. Although there weren't many people left alive in Hallifax to turn on Aidan, it was still a possibility. Lorcan knew in his heart that, despite the slaughter, this war had reason and it was beyond the reach of his understanding. What he did understand though, was that Aidan was outnumbered, outmatched, and needed his help. He would do whatever he could for the boy. After all, Aidan reminded him of someone else.
“You sure you don't need me to stay?” Lorcan offered.
“No, I've burdened your town enough with my personal problems for one week. I can handle myself for one night,” Aidan insisted, smiling weakly to prove he'd be alright to the strongman.
“At least let me wait here while you have yourself a quick log out to get food and settle your mind for tomorrow’s battle,” Lorcan seemed to need to do something so Aidan allowed this. He laid down across the bed and his avatar went still. Lorcan patrolled his room until he safely returned an hour later. Lorcan seemed satisfied with this and made his way back to the gates for his duty.
“Be safe,” Lorcan said to Aidan. Aidan smiled softly, thinking of Johnny probably halfway to Sorin by now and safely away from all this slaughter. It soothed his mind slightly knowing this.
“I will,” Aidan spoke as Lorcan left and shut the door.
Cheyenne slammed against the prison wall over and over, her thirst driving her actions. She was surprisingly getting stronger with every blow, until finally she slammed the door open. Her mind raced with thousands of thoughts, about where to go now.
What to do? What can she eat? She needed to eat. Her throat was stinging from how dry it was. Her mind narrowed into a single thought. She had forgotten where she was, who she was. All she was concerned about was that she needed to eat now.
Suddenly, the air was caressed with a single familiar scent. Blood. The streets of Hallifax were lined with it. She crept through the corpses but none of them seemed to be giving off that fresh scent she was smelling.
There was a heavy wind whistling through the narrow streets and the light from the outside window tapers into her prey’s room. She lurked in the shadows, viciously eyeing The Pale Pixel Pub. She felt her body advance toward the building instinctively and the next thing she knew, she was in Aiden’s room.
She stood there menacingly calculating his every movement, verifying that he was unconscious. Beaming red eyes burrowing into where her fangs yearned to be, her feet delicately shuffled forward. She felt her lips curl into a wicked grin as she approached Aidan’s resting body. His breathing was calm and deep. His pulse slowed and she felt every throb in her body as if it were her own heart beating again. Fifty two beats pumping his blood through her veins every minute. She let out a menacing snicker as she closed the distance between the limp form of her brother and herself. As her thirst threatened the nape of his neck, Aidan jolted awake.
His once docile figure now an imposing mass as he shoved Cheyenne’s slender form away from him. He fumbled with his gear as she bounded at him once more. Her movements became malicious as her mind emptied to only one thought. Food.
She could feel her entire being moving purely of its own will. Each hiss and scratch on her prey, an attack of predatory instinct. He struggled underneath her weight and fought to release himself from her grasp, tearing her away from his flesh. The screams and pleads only fueled the thirst. Then, for the first time in three years, Aidan saw Cheyenne.
“Cheyenne…?” He stared horrified at the beast before him. Trying to piece together how she could be here. Why would she be attacking him? What was going on? His panicked thoughts and expression only fueled her amusement.
She could taste his anxiety and it was refreshing. So long she had been suppressing this urge but nothing could stop her now. The gashes she left in him were wasting precious drops of blood onto the floorboards. She lunged at him once more and it became a game of cat and mouse, a twisted tango. It was exhilarating.
Cheyenne’s eyes burned unwavering into his and, in one painstakingly slow pull, she tore Aiden’s head from his torso. The blood of her kid brother pooled beneath her boots and stained her pants. Richard would be pleased. Exhaustion overcame her from her hunt, she finally had a moment to breathe once again and relax. And that is exactly what she did.
She woke to the bitter scent of copper and a sticky sensation all over her body. She hadn’t fed on that much blood in a long while, she felt bloated and exhausted and she just wanted to nap forever. This was the first time she had completely blacked out after a rampage. She would have to remember to properly bury the remains of her victim. She could still taste the poor soul on her tongue. She wondered if he had cried out like Shiloh.
If there was a family that lived in this room that she had robbed them from. She would have to send the gold they dropped to the next of kin when she got a chance. She laid there for a long while staring at the ceiling. She didn’t have a next step now that she had apparently escaped her confines. She doubted that she had actually escaped as much as she was released onto the world. Released, starving and vicious onto her prey. Just like that first time. She mentally cursed the sick bastard and tried not to think too hard into the past couple of days of imprisonment
.
She steadied her breathing and sat up from the pool and walked over to the decapitated body. She hated that she had done that. There was just something about that side of her that wanted their heads off. Wanted their heads far away from her as possible. Maybe she just didn’t want to see their eyes. The panicked crystal blue eyes in the darkness flashed through her mind. They felt familiar and yet so terrified. She couldn’t stand the image. Had she looked them in the eyes before they died? She shivered as she moved the lifeless body onto the bed. Cheyenne started mindlessly searching for where the head might have gone. Aidan’s head greeted her in the corner. She shrieked.
“No no no no, Aidan. Please no. Please please please. Oh no, Aidan. Please no. Please, not you. Please. Please. Not you,” Cheyenne desperately pleaded with the universe and tried to reattach his head with his body while wailing.
Her voice echoed the meaningless word of Shiloh. She couldn’t have done this. This isn’t how this is supposed to happen. She was supposed to take care of him. She was supposed to stay by his side. She was supposed to…she was supposed to…
“I was supposed to save you,” she cried as his head rolled off of the bedside and she clutched his chest. She had failed. She coughed and spit spewed from her lips. She had experienced every pain she physically, emotionally, and mentally could in this world, but she had never sobbed as hard as she did at that moment. She screamed and kept screaming and wailed until her cries were one with the breeze.
She crawled helplessly over to the lifeless body of her brother. She caressed his hair and openly sobbed. He was gone and it was her fault. It all came back to her. She had not been gentle. She had not been merciful. She had slaughtered with a smile.
She wept into his chest still not being able to stand. Her throat dry as if she had not fed in centuries and yet still somehow she managed to cough up spit as she sobbed. Her eyes stung as she tried to blink, burning her guilt into her whole being. Punishing her for the tragedy she had brought onto herself.