“You’re Amata, I assume,” Emily said with little regard to the advantageous position the vampire had over her, “You’re pretty… but then again, all of life’s cheapest pleasures are.”
“Oh, there’s a fire in you, all right… I like that,” Amata replied, her interests piqued, “I believe there’s much in you that I would’ve found appealing… captivating… and maybe even a little bit titillating… but alas, we come from different worlds— far apart, yet closer than our creators would ever allowed themselves to believe. It’s written in stone, Emily, long before either of us was ever born. The war was predestined… a war that cannot find closure without blood spilt in its name…. and it’s a war I intend to win.”
“I’ll fight you!” Emily shouted in defiance.
“I’m counting on it,” Amata replied, “You… or that little whelp, Xander. I’m going to make you watch as I tear him limb from limb until that shriveled up heart of his turns to dust.”
“You’ve threatened my friends and family,” Emily said as she took a step closer, “No one threatens the people I care about. I don’t care if your queen of the goddamn world… I’ll never bow down to you. Everywhere you turn, I’ll be there to stop you. You’ll never get away with this.”
“Oh, dear summoner,” Amata laughed, “I already have.”
The darkness returned with truculence and bombarded her with the forcefulness of the vampire queen’s depravity; cold and calculating, where she knew it could do the most damage— the psyche, where the emotional distress would run rampant upon her exposed and unshielded soul.
The unnerving feeling of losing all grip on reality was the last thing Emily remembered before it all came crashing to a halt; and as suddenly as it began, her nightmare was over.
Chapter Two
“…And so it begins,” said Lady Amata, opening her eyes back to the world she had left behind, “The first move, my dear summoner… shall be mine.”
She picked herself up from between the candlelit circle of power she had been meditating on, a place to channel the power necessary to see all her desires unfold. This time, it had been desires to dislodge Emily of rational thinking and drive a wedge between allies. Before that, it had been a false prophecy to the summoner’s brother, all in the hopes of obtaining a bloodless kill— the kind of kill she was expertly equipped to give.
She folded back the opening to her tent and was overcome with sense of purpose and honor as she stared at the horde gathered in front of her tent, knees bent and paying respect to their dark mistress. She was a queen, and like any proper queen should, she now had an army at her disposal.
Everywhere she looked, werewolves and vampires mixed with nymphs and even the occasional troll. Mages chanted in circles to keep her army concealed from the world outside and mask the vampires from the harsh sunlight that threatened to send them all back into the ground.
The hordes were separated, isolated and looking for a fight. They needed a leader to unite them, and unleash them upon their unsuspecting enemies. She was that leader, risen to power under the strength of steel and ruthless in the ways of the lesser breeds. The hordes, they would follow a woman like her into the depths of Hell.
“Come, my children,” said Lady Amata as she signaled for the vampires hanging around her tent to come forth with her. They followed her, without question, to the center of camp where several trolls had erected a stage.
It was crude, simplistic and without any of the creature comforts she was used to, but it served its purpose; a place where she could reach out to all those in attendance and strengthen their resolve to see the summoner’s will undone. Amata had her army, now she just needed to unite them.
Trumpets rang out the moment she placed her foot upon the stage and soon all the monsters were ushered forth and out of the trees. Never before had they gathered together in such number, where ageless blood feuds could once again take shape and threaten to unravel everything they had worked for. In fact, many of Amata’s own advisors had warned her of the danger such a close proximity could have to the paranormal races. And yet here they are, numbered in the thousands, a testament to the trust had given her. Her advisors would’ve had to eat those words, if they were still alive to do so.
“My brethren,” Lady Amata began, “I say that not to the vampires in the audience, but to all of you that answered the call of war. We were born under a tyrants rule, forced to adapt to a way of life that we never desired. They threatened to take everything we loved about the world away from us, lest we repent and follow their will.”
The crowd before the vampire queen was energetic and unruly, one needed to be tempered with a sharp wit and slick words. Some cheered and others made jovial remarks, but all stood at attention for their dark princess, the one from which will deliver them into the eternal night.
“Boo! The summoner must burn!”
“Humans, the stronger their resolve, the tastier they’ll be!”
“And so, the summoners died for their transgressions against their children,” continued Lady Amata to the sound of cheering, “And yet, not all of them are dead… no… one of them survived… and she now threatens all that we’ve worked an eternity for! She thinks of us as nothing but a plague on the earth, and she’ll stop at no end to see us wiped from this earth!”
“The stupid bitch, we should cut her tongue out!”
“And make her watch while we eat her eyes!”
“You bloody fool, how would that work—?”
“Enough!” shouted Lady Amata as she signaled for her horde to cease their trivial discussions, “We’ve all tried to defeat her on our own—.”
“We trolls haven’t made attempt yet!” bellowed the largest of the troll pack, “Give us ten minutes alone with ‘er, we’ll have ‘er screaming in no time!”
“Don’t test my patience, O’larg,” Lady Amata fired back, “The summoner still lives, save for your failed excuse of an attack that never happened. We must come together, my brethren, or risk losing everything we’ve worked so damn hard for. I’ve lived for three hundred years, that’s three hundred years of fighting and clawing my way to the top. I don’t know about any of you, but I haven’t come this far… just to see that damned bitch take it all away from us!”
“Set fire to the summoner… and serve up the traitor on a pike!”
“Let’s eat her eyeballs… who the hell cares if she can’t see it?”
“The choice is simple, if you ask me,” Lady Amata continued, “It’s the choice you made when you walked into this camp. The summoner’s reign over us must end… by the most gruesome means available! I want rip out her throat… I want to gouge out her eyeballs… and I want her to feed her entrails to my bloodhounds! Take up arms, my brothers and sisters! Tonight, we drink and pay sacrifice to the dark gods below... and tomorrow… well, tomorrow we become those very gods!”
The hordes broke out into ovation for their vampire queen, drinking and singing their native battle hymns to one another and celebrating for their coming triumph. Amata stayed for awhile and shared a drink with her new subordinates. She listened to their stories and pretended to give a damn, but the truth was that they were all pawns. If they didn’t fall upon Xander’s blade, surely there would be another waiting in line to finish what he couldn’t.
She retired some time later to her tent to find a bewildered wood nymph cavorting around with one if her men. She wanted to tear them apart, the very thought sickening her right down to her rotted stomach, but doing so would show a weakness in the unity she just proclaimed. No, this vampire had likely gotten himself into more than he could chew, and his problems were now his own.
“Come on, baby,” the vampire crooned, “You’ve been giving me the look since the queen’s speech. I’m not asking for much… just a quick little taste.”
They were a rough pair, likely both from the northern clans. He was a biker, no doubt about it to the vampire queen, with the clichéd denim jacket and tight leather pants. Even the long and spindly rattail down
the back of his next screamed inbreeding, a trait not looked kindly upon in any culture, no matter how tortured and depraved.
It was the dryad that interested Amata, albeit a minor curiosity. She was radiating pure sex, her pheromones flaring up until its prey was unable to defend itself from any rational thought. Try as she might, there wasn’t a chance of the vampire breaking off his advances. The real question, at least to the vampire queen, was why she would be resisting at all in the first place.
“Not today, tiger,” the dryad said as she pushed back on him gently, “There’s nothing here for you.”
“Yeah?” the vampire asked with a fanged grin, “And why’s that—?”
“Because her boyfriend’s right behind you, you undead piece of shit,” a snarling figure barked as it approached from the shadows, “You’ve got balls, vamp… I’ll give you that.”
“What the fuck?” the vampire asked as he turned around abruptly, “You’re giving me shit, pup? I’ve been slaying your kind since your daddy’s daddy was sucking on his mother’s tit.”
“Watch your mouth,” the werewolf growled, still in human form but just as deadly. He was frothing at the mouth, just waiting for the vampire to give him one more reason to upset the balance of the gathering and tear his throat out for such offensive words.
“Our what?” the vampire asked, still filled with the euphoric high instilled by the beast’s girlfriend and looking for a fight, “You know… you look familiar to me… yeah, you know what? You do look familiar. Maybe I had to put down your daddy… or your daddy’s daddy—.”
The werewolf leapt forward with unbridled rage as he struck the vampire down with a clobbering backhand to the chin. The vamp wasn’t going to allow something like that to go unanswered and he sprang into action. Within mere seconds, these two men had threatened to disrupt the peace Amata had carefully constructed. No longer could she stand by and watch, she must act... and punish accordingly.
“Stand down!” Lady Amata commanded as she approached the two dissenters, “Both of you are acting like children… filthy, petty, and short-fucking-sighted! Do you not realize what your silly little fight would’ve started? If anyone else would’ve caught the two of you brawling… we would’ve had a goddamn race war on our hands.”
“Apologies, my vampire queen,” the vampire said.
“Yes, Lady Amata,” the werewolf added, “We didn’t think—.”
“You’re damn right, you didn’t think for a fucking second,” Lady Amata roared, “Get on your knees… both of you.”
They looked hesitantly at one another, but both warriors conceded to their master’s command and knelt down to the muddy ground beneath them.
“You, too,” Lady Amata said to the confounded wood nymph trying to slink back into the shadows, “Take your place among the others. After all, my dear dryad… this whole thing was of your construct.”
“Y-yes, my lady,” the dryad choked back, “It shall be done… as your will commands.”
“My brethren… heed my command and come to me at once!” Lady Amata shrieked out to the entirety of her legion. Like the loyal servants the hordes were, they came to their dark princess, and they came in massive numbers. Within minutes of her beckoning, the forest surrounding them was packed tight with warriors of the entire paranormal ilk. “I call you all here with dire news… very dire, indeed… it would seem we have some dissidents within our ranks.”
The monsters erupted into madness, spewing hate and obscenities towards the unlucky few, caught in the middle of the pack and to be made an example for the others to follow. Their fate was affirmed, the eager crowd’s reaction all but sealing the deal.
“Please, mistress,” the vampire choked, “I beg of you—!”
“Enough!” Lady Amata said with a hand raised into the air, “I think we can all agree, you’ve already done enough.”
“Bash their brains in!”
“Cleave them to pieces!”
O’larg,” said Lady Amata said through pressed lips, her whisper reaching out to the far corners of the camp, “It’s time for the bloodletting to commence.”
A slow rumble crept over the crowd, the sound of the largest troll in existence springing forth for his queen’s protection. He carried his trusty bloodletting stick with him, ten feet long, weighing at least a half ton, and as the old troll would say, “Made for wallopin’.”
The already lively crowd was ratcheted up another couple notches as the troll loomed forward. They had all heard the stories of troll justice… but events like these almost never took place in the presence of outsiders. Much like the trolls themselves, their rituals were simplistic and crude, but for a crowd such as this, it was the perfect ceremony to pay the gods their due sacrifice.
The troll didn’t say a single word as he emerged from the crowd into the center clearing, where Amata stood in front of three kneeled dissenters.
“I thought I made it clear during the festivities early,” Lady Amata began as O’larg took up position behind the detainees, “We either stand together… or we die alone. These three chose the latter, and now they’ll pay the ultimate price—.”
“Please, my queen.”
“Don’t do this… please don’t fucking do this.”
“Lady Amata, you must show leniency!”
“I must do nothing of the sort, wood nymph,” Lady Amata interrupted with her fist still high in the air, “Now, O’larg. Do it now.”
When Amata’s hand came down, so too did the war club of the mighty troll; impacted against the heads of the vampire, werewolf and dryad, one after the other until nothing but mangled stumps replaced what would’ve been their head. It was a brutal and disgusting display of power, but it was her power— one to wield control over as she deems fit.
And she would soon show the world just the kind of power she had at her disposal. All that stood in her way was one trying summoner, now only a few days away from being removed from this plane of existence. Amata had the paranormal world wrapped around her little finger, but still it wasn’t enough to keep her content. No, she wouldn’t stop until she had everything the world had to offer.
Chapter Three
While the vampire queen reigned over her newfound army, Emily sat alone in a makeshift tent, watching over her slumbering brother. There wasn’t a vampire or ghoul left that wouldn’t have shred Steven at the first opportunity to do so, and she could hardly blame them. Steven had been up a couple times already, each time absorbing more of the story he so aggressively denied recollection of. Still, he was weak, and whether he would admit it or not, he needed help.
Emily loved her brother, but his return had been nothing more than the harbinger of their demise. He single-handedly destroyed their home, or rather, the blood hungry demon that possessed his body did; but there wasn’t any use explaining that to the vampires who’d just lost everything they ever had. They never asked for any of this, yet they suffered all the same.
His sleep was peaceful; the evil spirits that once lingered now but a passing memory. Steven swore that he didn’t remember anything about what happened the night before, but even if he did, Emily knew that he’d never admit to it. He had been used, against his will, a vessel in the diabolical designs of those he once called friends. If it had been Emily, she’d want to forget it all, too.
“May I have a moment?” Xander asked as he opened a flap on his way into the tent. He trounced into the room, boots covered in mud and stinking of shit. “It’ll just take a minute.”
“Oh, don’t be such a Nancy,” said Emily, with fingers raised to plug up her nose, “We’re still… we’re… we’ll we’re something.”
“My thoughts, exactly.”
“You know what I mean,” Emily replied, “Whatever we are… we’re friends. That’s not about to change, is it?”
“No, it’s not.”
“Well then good,” Emily said with a pompous look upon her face, just waiting for Xander to make a joke about her being a spoiled little summo
ner princess, “I wouldn’t want to have to make you walk the plank.”
What a stupid line. From the moment it left Emily’s lips, she wished she could’ve taken it back. There was something about the way Xander spoke to her that seemed to give way to rational thought and found a way to seep into her subconscious. She hadn’t felt his mysterious pull in a long time, but when she did, it was like it had never left in the first place.
“So now you’re a pirate?”
“H-huh?” Emily asked, prepared for every response except the most obvious one.
“Princesses don’t make people walk the plank. That’s pirates.”
“I-I… oh, shut up,” Emily replied with exaggerated motions of death by humiliation.
Xander said nothing, only smiled softly as he gazed into the eyes of his the woman he risked everything for. He liked to think that his vampiric abilities allowed him to gain foothold into the minds of others, to make them see the truths he permitted them to see. The summoner wasn’t like the others, however, and he feared that she may have been the one controlling him.
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