"Why shouldn't I kill you right here for what you did to me?" she snarled as she approached Yarik's cage, "I could… I could rip your head off your shoulders right now!"
"Because now you understand…" Yarik replied, "You understand the Thirst, the pain… you lost control and slaughtered that soldier… why you never had control to begin with."
"But you did this to me," Ema'as growled, "You made me this way."
"What else would you have been?" Yarik asked, standing up. He wrapped his fingers around the bars that confined him and stared at Ema'as with his black eyes, "A Marauder? A savage cannibal? Now at least you have the chance to join the bloodline that has outlasted the very empire that oppresses it. You could become one of the mightiest people on this planet if you wanted."
Ema'as went silent and looked down at her bare feet. She noticed that her dark skin had paled and that her feet were covered in excrement. Sighing, she shook her head and unlocked Yarik's cage.
"We need to work together," Yarik pushed the door open, "We are all that each of us has right now." Their gazes met, and Yarik stepped down from his cage. He rubbed his hand across Ema'as bare shoulder and knelt next to the body of the dead soldier.
Yarik bit a hole into the soldier's stomach with his fangs and then shoved his fingers inside and ripped the skin apart. The soldier's bowels shifted upward, and Yarik grabbed hold of them and shoved them into his mouth.
The ravenous Vampre ate loudly, slurping and sucking at the soldier's organs. He savored every drop of blood or blood-soaked flesh he could get into his mouth and began to lightly chuckle as he ate. Soon, Yarik had the soldier's torso completely ripped apart, and his own stomach was filled with the belly of the soldier.
Panting, Yarik leaned forward and rested his head on the bare ribs of the soldier. A rejuvenated Ema'as stood silently behind him and watched. She watched both in horror and fascination, in awe of the kind of creature she knew she had become. Finally, she began to feel dizzy and squatted down to gather herself.
"You poor thing," Yarik purred between short breaths, "You poor, pitiful thing." He turned his head in Ema'as direction but did not look at her. "Condemned to eternal hunger simply for being a nasty little slut. I pity you. You did not deserve this kind of hell."
"Then you should not have bitten me," She scowled with her head between her legs, "You should have let them kill me."
"…save it," Yarik replied, "We don't have much time." He stood up and looked down at her. "Your leg has healed well. The Thirst has its... benefits…"
Ema'as looked up at him and realized how much her body was yearning the touch of another. She had never felt such a carnal need before. It was as if the blood she had drunk had fueled her lust. She examined Yarik. Though he was a bald, skinny, ugly sight, she wanted nothing more than to feel him inside her.
"I see you," he placed his hand under her chin, "We don't have much time…" He placed his hands on her shoulders and quickly pushed her down on the ground, "Hurry, before we lose this buzz." Ema'as started breathing heavily and opened her legs before him. She grabbed the fledgling High Vampre and pulled him down on top of her.
"Yes." She whispered, "Yes…"
***
"You kill the weak…" Rubaan said to Eon, as he stood atop the stone walls, "You kill the weak and enslave the strong…"
"We do," Eon replied with a smile. He stared down into the town of Lithaan and watched as the fires burned. As his forces fought the town's populace, subjugating as many as they could and killing the rest, Rubaan felt an unwanted smile spread across his face. It was countered by a wave of repulsion.
"Even the children?" Rubaan asked, "The babies?"
"‘Tis a messy business, war…" Eon declared, "We haven't the means to feed the babes. Someday perhaps we can avoid the bloodshed of children… But for now, I must strengthen them with life anew. Our army must grow. We need every last body."
"Apparently not Heklaar's," Rubaan snarkily spat, "He was a mighty warrior, and you allowed him to be chopped to bits by your abominations. Don't force feed me bullshit."
"Alas I do regret the fate of poor Heklaar," Eon said, shaking his head, "But the Maas'Eon needed to be tested, and Heklaar's prowess was unmatched… save by me."
"Heklaar could have slaughtered you," Rubaan spat, "If it were down to you and him… No magic, just weapons."
"Magic…" Eon sneered as he watched his Marauders sack the town, "It took me years to convince the world, especially the elders, that my work came from me, not the gods. Do not diminish my scientific accomplishments by labeling them as magic. They are no such thing; I made this power that I wield. I programmed it, fueled it, brought it to life… and it, in turn, brought me to life."
"Whatever," Rubaan groaned, "Without it though, you are nothing."
"Is that so?" Eon asked. He stood and pondered for a moment, and then held his arm out for Rubaan to see, "Interesting.."
Quickly, without warning, a shiny metal blade shot out of a small box that was strapped to Eon's wrist. The box looked ceramic and by no means could have stored a two-foot-long sword. Rubaan watched in silence and waited.
"I created this when I was still with Life Links," Eon explained, holding the blade for Rubaan to see, "Or rather I created the science… the box is filled with metal powder. Enough that the NaNe have plentiful material to molecularly reorganize into this blade. No magic here, only science. Watch, dear Rubaan, see how dependant on my creations I truly am."
At that, Eon leaped off the wall and into the town below. He hit the ground, stirring up a small cloud of dust and searched for a target.
"You will find, dear host of mine," Eon declared as he took off in a sprint toward a female Elf holding a rifle that was too big for her, "That your dear and benevolent King will provide you with every form of protection you need!"
The Elf fired a shot at Eon, and Eon phased out of the way, dodging the bullet and splitting her skull with his sword. He pushed her to the ground and darted forward as another citizen came into view.
"Spare the strong…" he shouted, crashing a fist into the jaw of the male Elf in front of him, "For the strong do not need to be reborn." The Elf fell to the ground in a daze. Eon kicked him in the side of the head, rendering him unconscious.
"Kill the weak," Eon continued, as he neared another armed female. She had three trembling children screaming behind her, "That I may make them strong, that I may create them in my own image!" Rubaan watched in terror as Eon charged toward them.
***
"It won’t be like this forever," Yarik assured Ema'as as their two filth stained sweating bodies panted on the wooden floor inside the trailer transporting them, "One day you and I will be elevated to godhood… This transformation will be complete. We can restore the great Vampre dynasty."
"I don't care about any of that," Ema'as sighed, not moving her head from Yarik's chest, "Power, dynasties… the powerful Vampre died out when the Age of Blood ended when the Humaan aliens got here. All I care about is staying alive."
"What better way to stay alive than finding immortality?" Yarik asked, "If we survive the Thirst we will become High Vampre, we will have power like we have never imagined. Eon can't control us anymore like he can everyone else. We don't have those NaNe things in us."
"I guess that's true," Ema'as agreed, "So what should we do?" Yarik was silent for a moment and then looked down at the top of Ema'as' head.
"We should run," he whispered, "We should go now while we have our strength and sobriety." The two sat up and looked at each other.
"Where will we go?" Ema'as asked, "We're so far from anywhere. I don't know if…"
"We will find a city," Yarik grinned and spoke with an excited tone, "Lay low, feed when we need to. Maybe capture a few bodies and live off their blood. I don't know. But we can't live in this shit-filled trailer anymore."
"How will we get there?" Ema'as asked.
"They're fighting outside," Yarik declared, "We just get in one of their vehi
cles and hightail it out of here… it's that or be a slave." Ema'as lowered her head and thought.
"They might catch us," she worried, "They might kill us." Yarik placed his hand on Ema'as' chin and lifted it so he could see her black eyes.
"So be it then," his voice was eager, angry, "I'd rather die than suffer this hunger forever… I'm going with or without you. You need to choose what you want."
Ema'as nodded her head and took a deep breath. "I don't have any other option I guess. I will go with you."
***
"Pile the bodies!" Eon commanded, "Bring them forth, that they may be strengthened through rebirth!"
Before him was a pile of corpses, the former mothers, sick, elderly, and children of the town of Lithaan. The strong, whom Eon had spared, had been fitted with shackles and were doing as their new king commanded.
"Your loved ones will return," Eon assured his new slaves, "You will be reunited with them when you bring them forth. For I am Eon, I am your King and savior!"
The slaves tossed the bodies of their neighbors, family, and friends into the pile. One of Eon's soldiers brought forward a wooden crate and laid it at his feet.
"As you requested, my King," the soldier bowed at Eon's feet. Eon nodded, and the soldier lifted the lid from the crate.
"Bring me four more soldiers," Eon ordered, "We will administer the rebirth once you return." Eon knelt and looked into the crate.
The crate was filled with hundreds of glass syringes, all filled with a clear liquid. He ran a finger over them and grinned wildly.
"You will see real power now, dear host," Eon told Rubaan, "The power of complete control. The power of rebirth."
"I am sure it will be wonderful," Rubaan replied sarcastically, unable to get the visions of the ghastly crimes Eon had just committed out of his head.
"It most certainly will, my friend," Eon gushed, "A feat of this magnitude has never been accomplished!" He grabbed a syringe from the crate and stepped forward.
"Behold!" He announced, projecting his voice for all to hear, "The beginning of the Maas'Eon army!" At that, he pulled the cap off the syringe and knelt before the closest body he could find. He stuck the needle into the chest of the body and injected all of the fluid into it. He then stood, and stepped back.
Everyone was silent as they watched and waited for what was to come. The corpse of a teenage boy lay still for a moment. It then began twitching. It started with a simple tremor in its leg. But soon the entire corpse began to seize.
The body convulsed for a few moments, and then suddenly stopped. Eon's army held their breath as they watched the body silently stand.
"Rebirth!" Eon roared with glee. His army erupted in cheering and whooping, and the Lithaani slaves Eon had spared wailed and cried.
"Bring them all back!" Eon commanded, "Take them below the sentinel and outfit them with their weapons. Everyone else feast and rest for victory is ours!"
The army cheered, and Eon turned and walked toward the main gate. He pointed at one of his judges, and he quickly ran up to accompany him.
"Ready the cavalry," He ordered, pointing to the motorcycles that had been dismounted, "Bring the Vampre, Lycaani, and Maas'Eon. We will depart immediately so that I may reunite with the Demon."
"My lord, some of the Vampre have escaped," the Judge replied, "They killed two and captured another… apparently, while we were…"
"Silence yourself," Eon waved his hand through the air in dismissal, "Forget them for now. I am in too much of a hurry to kill you Drek. You had better do your best to impress me tonight when we capture the Demon."
"Yes my lord, I will not let you down."
"You will kill him anyway won't you?" Rubaan asked.
"Silence!" Eon looked away from Drek for a moment as he reprimanded Rubaan. He looked back at his judge and nodded, "Begone!"
***
"Hurry!" Yarik shouted as he jumped out of the back of the trailer. His bare feet landed on the crumbled dry orange ground, "We don't have much time. We are not High Vampre yet. We still thirst; the Brothers light will burn us alive if we linger!"
Ema'as followed Yarik and hopped out behind him. "By Igo!" she gasped, as she felt the Brother's light on her skin for the first time, "It burns."
"And it will kill you if you wait!" he warned. He grabbed her hand and pulled her along.
Silently they crept, seeking shade from the Brother's light just as one would search for stepping stones across a river. They crept from vehicle to vehicle, looking in each one for keys, but were not having much luck.
"Find one that has a fully enclosed cabin," Yarik said, "And storage enough for a body or two." The two rounded a truck and stopped. Before them stood two soldiers, each with their backs to them. Yarik looked at Ema'as, and Ema'as nodded, and the two slowly started sneaking forward.
The thrill of the kill was unlike anything Ema'as had ever felt before. Sure she had slaughtered slaves before, but that was livestock. It was simply her job. The stalking, pouncing, and throat-ripping… that felt real, natural, sensual even.
Ema'as looked over at Yarik who had his soldier in a choke hold. The soldier struggled for a moment, but it was not long before he was unconscious. Quickly, Yarik laid him on the ground and removed the strings from his boots. With the string, he bound the soldier's hands and feet and then stepped over to join Ema'as.
"We must feed quickly," he said, baring his fangs. "Mine has the keys to a truck on him. We can feed and then depart… But first, take his clothes and take their weapons. We will need the added protection, and you can't be naked forever."
The two hurriedly undressed the dead soldier. Ema'as quickly put the clothes on herself. They were of course too big, but for the time being, they at least shielded Ema'as skin from the Brothers light. After dressing, Ema'as knelt and sunk her teeth into the dead soldier's neck, drawing more blood for her to feast on.
After the two had eaten their fill, they leaned back and took a moment to catch their breath. The Brothers light was beginning to blister their skin, and with air in their lungs and lust in their eyes, they were somehow able to shake off their urges and get to their feet. They knew they needed to find cover.
"The truck…" Yarik panted, feeling a wave of post-meal euphoria. "I have the keys…" Ema'as nodded and hoisted the unconscious soldier from the ground and over her shoulder. She was shocked at how little effort she had to put into it. It seemed that her transformation had not only given her an insatiable thirst, but also a significant strength boost.
Yarik and Ema'as quickly searched for the truck to which the keys belonged. Yarik kept trying the door locks. After checking two armored flatbed trucks, and one covered truck, they finally found the one they were looking for.
"Praise Igo," Yarik muttered, as he pulled the door open and hopped into the driver seat. The truck was a two and a half ton Govian army convoy truck with a canvas cover, almost exactly like the one the two Vampre had been transported in. Yarik shoved the key into the ignition and brought the truck to life.
"Put him in the back!" Yarik shouted to Ema'as. "We will save him for later…" Ema'as hurried to the back of the vehicle and tossed the incapacitated guard inside. She watched to make sure he wasn't moving. After a couple of moments, she returned to the front of the vehicle.
"Are we good?" Yarik asked, looking over at Ema'as. Ema'as took a breath and looked around.
"Yeah," she said, feeling free for the first time since well before Eon entered into her life. "I think we finally are."
"Well, where to then?" Yarik asked. "We can go anywhere in the world."
"Let's just get the Hells out of here," Ema'as replied. "Let's find our way as we go."
"I like your style," Yarik said. "Buckle up then, Ema'as. We have the rest of our lives ahead of us."
***
"How many slaves?" Eon asked Dalan, a short Lycaani judge of his.
"325 my liege," Dalan replied.
"How many reborn Maas'Eon?" Eon asked.
&nb
sp; "Approximately six hundred sir," Dalan said. "Sir, our numbers have grown well beyond what we could have anticipated."
"Indeed," Eon said, crossing his arms. "Judge Dalan, how many bodies could not be reborn?"
"Sire?" Dalan answered, "We do not have that number for you."
"Understandable," Eon replied. "I did not ask that you provide that number. One cannot be expected to so arbitrarily go above and beyond their duties. Please, Judge Dalan, take me to the dead."
"As you command my king," Dalan motioned for Eon to follow, and the two walked north toward an old bell tower that stood at Lithaan's center.
"Judge Dalan," Eon spoke as they walked. "Have my new Maas'Eon been taken below as I commanded?"
"Indeed they have sir," Dalan replied. "All are beneath the sentinel at present time. We have begun arming them and fitting them for armor.."
"It will be a sight to behold, good Dalan," Eon said. "Six hundred Maas'Eon… The thought of it fills me with joy. Our numbers will grow even larger once we plunder our next village…"
"That they will sir," Dalan agreed.
They walked through the smoking town, passing by many burning structures and fixtures. Eon noted the multiple puddles of blood he walked past, grunting at each of them, knowing most of them added one more body to his legion. He thought of how easy taking the village had been, how he had lost only a handful of soldiers and gained nearly a thousand. The thought of it all made him realize that all his work, all his creating had finally paid off. He was going to take on the world, and he was going to win.
"Here we are my king," Dalan said, as the two approached a pile of bodies. "It is not much. We were able to save nearly everyone."
"This will do well enough for me," Eon said. "Please, stay Dalan. See if I am more than I promised you all." Dalan nodded and stood silently next to Eon.
"Watch, host of mine," Eon ordered Rubaan. "You spoke of blood magic, of necromancy. While my mind is a scientific one, there are things that I have learned; secrets shared with me in the Hells by the long dead that even I do not understand. Watch Rubaan."
The Black Knight Box Set Page 24