by Sean Davies
All of a sudden, a man materialised from mid-air in the room, with long ginger hair and a face covered in the same interwoven circular tattoos as the deceased Werewolf. He held a rifle and a duffel bag in one hand, and his other hand was resting on a book on a ruined desk in the centre of the room. In all the chaos, Genevieve had neglected to notice the Book Wielder’s faintly glowing book, and as the illumination diminished from its large old pages the man began to speak.
“I had a clear run tonight. The Three are going to be very pleased…” He paused as he surveyed the damaged room around him.
Genie stopped clutching at her mortal wounds and charged towards the Book Wielder before he could attack, and her Katana sliced cleanly through his neck. She fell to the floor shortly after the headless body of the Morriganigh’s Book Wielder collapsed. The book faded away just after Scythe and the others entered the office.
“You dumb fucking bitch,” Scythe spat furiously as she entered the room. “I told you to follow my fucking orders!”
Genevieve’s vision blurred, and she tried to tell the Mage ‘go fuck yourself’ but she couldn’t muster the energy to talk. She could feel the blood pumping out of her body, and she remembered her last night as a human when Seth had smashed her skull and brought her to death’s door. ‘This is it,’ she thought as everything around her turned cloudy and white.
“Did you see that book disappear? She killed their Book Wielder, Scythe!” Genie heard one of the gang members cheering.
“Seth’s going to blow his load when he finds out!” another shouted.
Scythe pondered for a moment before crouching down beside Genevieve. “Get her some blood; that Morriganigh’s head will do. I’ll freeze her wounds shut. Everyone else, dispose of the bodies – oh, and someone carve two fangs into a desk. We want the Morriganigh to know who fucked them tonight.”
The Mage placed her hands upon Genevieve’s gaping wounds and sealed them with ice that burned like fire. Genie’s fading vision turned from hazy white to searing red, and she yelped in pain as she passed out.
“Disobey me again and I’ll freeze your limbs and shatter them one by one,” Scythe said furiously, as Genevieve’s eyes rolled into the back of her head.
Chapter 7
Downfall
Large brassy machines that defied comprehension with their impossible mix of clockwork and high-tech energy technology floated around an endless void of nothingness, and Genevieve wondered where she was as she gawped around at her impossible surroundings.
In-between the massive machines, broken metal flooring, and gargantuan pipework, Genie could make out buildings, creatures, and even plant-life suspended within their timeless black prison, but she was unable to discern who or what they were.
A flash of light beneath her floating feet brought about a plain of pale blue grass, and the horizon became painted in a light purple fog. High above, a twilight sky with bright twinkling stars blossomed into existence. When Genevieve looked down, she was face to face with Annabelle.
The beautiful blonde girl was even more angelic than ever in a gorgeous white dress that ebbed with light. Her emerald green eyes were studded with the reflection of the stars above, and her wavy blonde hair swayed slightly even though there was no breeze.
Genevieve sighed with shock, and then grabbed Anna and kissed her passionately. She knew that she was dreaming and wanted to savour every moment, every touch, and every sensation.
“Oh Goddesses, I missed you! I love you so much, Annabelle,” Genie whispered in a longing sigh.
Annabelle gently pushed her away and gave her a coy smile. “I love you with all my heart, and I missed you too, Genie-girl, so very much! But we don’t have long. I don’t know how you’re here, and I’m still trying to wrap my head around where exactly here is, but I really need to warn you…”
Suddenly the dream felt shockingly real, and Genevieve’s mind exploded with questions.
“What happened to you? Where are you? Are you… are you dead?” Genevieve stammered.
The world around them shook, and the paradise-like dreamscape flickered intermittently, revealing the void and enormous mechanised superstructures around them.
“I got in too deep,” Annabelle explained quickly. “I thought I was being clever making a fortune dealing Dreamleaf, but someone took me.” A pained expression flared onto her pretty face as the universe around them rumbled.
“Who, Annabelle?!” Genie grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Who took you?”
“I don’t know,” she sobbed, “but I don’t think they were human!”
Genevieve was speechless, and couldn’t bring herself to reveal her new Supernatural heritage.
“Just promise you won’t come looking for me,” Annabelle said with tears streaming down her face, “I know what you’re like, and I did everything I could to keep you out of it. I never mentioned you once. Promise me you’ll stay safe, promise me!”
Genevieve once again found herself unable to speak, and the strange world around her began to disappear in a cloudy white light.
“If things were the other way around, would you give up?” Genevieve asked, stroking Anna’s blonde hair.
Annabelle wiped away her tears and sighed in defeat. “I guess you’ve got me there, Genie-girl. But I still want you to promise that you won’t get yourself killed in the process.”
“I promise,” Genevieve said, before giving her a long sweet kiss as the universe melted away.
“And best friends keep their promises,” Annabelle whispered back. “I’ll always love you Genevieve… for all eternity…”
✽ ✽ ✽
Genevieve opened her blurry eyes and saw that she was back at Fort Dominia. She was laying on a bunk in the security section as Seth and Scythe argued at the base of the bed. Genie wanted to analyse every moment of the insanely real dream, but couldn’t help but listen in to the Golden Fangs as they discussed her.
“She fucked it all up, Seth,” Scythe whispered sharply. “The whole plan went to shit ‘cos she wanted to play the hero.”
“But you were in charge of her,” Seth replied firmly. “So really, you fucked up by not being able to control her.”
“That’s… but, I…” Scythe hesitated.
“Chill out, I’m messing with ya,” Seth chuckled. “I don’t care how it went down – all I know is this cutie beheaded the Morriganigh’s BW. The mission was more than a success, end of. Now, go enjoy the party, I’ll catch up with ya later. I’m gonna fuck that sweet ass of yours silly.”
Scythe let out a short yelp as Seth smacked her backside, but she stayed persistently on topic. “She shouldn’t even be here. You know she’s a danger…”
Seth noticed that Genie’s eyes were open, and nudged Scythe in the ribs so hard that she fell over.
“Good evening, sleepyhead,” he began as he moved beside the bed. “You really need to stop passing out.”
Genevieve grunted and lifted herself up. “I thought I was dead.”
“Nah, we got your body healed up ages ago, but your mind was off somewhere else, I guess,” Seth smiled.
Genevieve thought longingly back to her time with Annabelle in the strange environment and wondered if her mind had been catapulted elsewhere.
“We’re having a massive party in your honour,” Seth continued cheerfully. “Scythe’s gonna lend you a nice dress, aren’t you?” he said forcefully to the gorgeous Mage.
“Sure…” Scythe said downheartedly.
“Why does she think I’m a danger?” Genevieve asked groggily. She felt far from a threat to anyone in the Golden Fangs, especially after being sliced open.
“Yeah, Scythe,” Seth glowered at the Mage, “why do you think Genevieve is a danger?”
Scythe stood silently for a moment until Seth tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“Because you’re reckless, inexperienced, and emotional,” Scythe said robotically. “I’ll get you that dress.”
> Seth chuckled as the Mage scuttled off. “She so jealous, and she’s got every right to be. You’re turning out to be one hell of a recruit. We’re getting reports of Morriganigh movement from the guys in Gaelliard. Your plan’s working a treat.”
“Thanks.” Genie got off the bed, and looked at her shredded and blood-caked clothing embarrassedly. “I’d better go get changed…”
Seth grabbed her arm before she could leave. “I’m afraid this is a bit of a good news bad news situation.”
Genevieve’s skin prickled, and after her strange dream she somehow knew what Seth was going to confirm. She sank back onto the bed and awaited the bad news.
“Your friend, the hot blonde,” Seth began. “She’s gone, I’m afraid. It’s either the Shadow Circle or Morriganigh’s doing, we can’t tell for sure, but it doesn’t matter. You’ll be slicing them into pieces in no time.”
The leader of the Golden Fangs gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and left her in the security section.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Scythe arrived back in the bunk room with a little black dress, a pair of black high heels, and a bottle. Genevieve’s insides felt as though they were in a blender, her heart ached, and her head droned with an inescapable discomfort that clouded her every thought.
“Seth told me…” Scythe said, laying the dress on Genie’s lap. “I thought you could use some Artravenia.”
Genie grabbed the bottle and downed as much of the magical intoxicant as she could before her throat felt frozen solid. She passed the bottle back to Scythe, and the room began moving and warping as the drug started to take effect.
“I’ll get you a damp cloth so you can scrub off that blood,” Scythe said plainly.
Genevieve stripped off completely, not caring in the slightest about who was watching, and kicked her ruined tactical clothing to the corner of the room. When Scythe returned, Genie took the damp cloth and wiped her body clean, as the Mage gave her a troubled look.
“What?” Genevieve snapped. “I’m reckless, inexperienced, and emotional. Remember?!”
The Mage scoffed. “I tried to show you a little sympathy, but you know what? Fuck you.”
“You wish,” Genevieve slurred as Scythe stormed off.
Genie slipped into the black dress. The outline of her breasts and nipples were almost completely visible through the tight-fitting outfit, and she imagined that the dress was more like a corset on Scythe’s bustier physique. She slipped on the shoes and attempted to pull the hem of the dress down lower than her ass, especially as she was wearing no underwear, but gave up. Her mind was a calamity of grief and Artravenia intoxication. She was a Vampire, Annabelle was gone, and her life was over, so what did her dignity matter in the midst of such misery?
She sighed angrily when she noticed that Scythe had taken the Artravenia with her, and Genie found her handbag and staggered off to find more substances to ease the pain.
Genie arrived in the main bar, where cheesy up-beat dance music was blasting out and gang members were drinking, smoking, and dancing.
The Golden Fangs clapped her on the shoulder or back as she walked by, and she high-fived, fist-pumped, and kissed them playfully in return. Varsara was tending the bar with her wild hair straightened and arranged in a high ponytail, wearing nothing but a see-through lace negligee. Genevieve eyed the dark-skinned beauty with what she imagined to be an alluring gaze, but spoiled it completely when she collided clumsily into a bar stall.
“Hey, good-looking,” Varsara said as she mixed up a cocktail for some nearby gang members. “You’re looking a little more relaxed than usual.”
Genevieve got herself comfy and leaned on the bar. “Yeah, well, everything’s gone to shit so… fuck it. Fix me up something nice and strong, like that drink you gave me the other night.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” she replied as she fetched an assortment of alcohol. “I thought that everything was on the up for you, going by the talk around here. If there is anything I can do to help, you let me know. Anything at all…”
Genie giggled. “Thanks, but drink and drugs will make a nice start.”
Varsara poured the drinks and mixers together in a fancy glass, added a dollop of blood, gave the glass a stir, sprinkled on a pinch of pink and red Rushdust, and plonked in a little decorative black umbrella for the finishing touch.
“It is a special one I make for you Vamps,” the exotic Werewolf Swiftpaw explained. “I call it a Crimson Climax. Give it a try.”
Genie took the glass and sniffed it. The red cocktail smelled sweet but powerful, the faint odour of blood making her stomach rumble, and she imagined that the drink was as flammable as Deep Vein Oil. She took a fearless gulp of the Crimson Climax and her eyes shot open as the Rushdust surged through her system.
“Phew,” Genevieve exhaled as her already sloppy vision began pulsing with faint red flashes. “That is a good drink.”
“Glad you enjoyed it, beautiful,” Varsara sighed in her high-pitched Tropican accent. “I’m working in the brothel later, once this lot get too excited to contain themselves any longer. You should come visit me.”
Genevieve drained her glass and took a few deep breaths as her heart began pumping intensely. “Uh huh… maybe.” She blinked her eyes rapidly as she adjusted to her new level of inebriation. “Give me another Crimson Climax.”
“Coming right up,” the Werewolf Swiftpaw purred.
“You girls really wanna sleep with me, don’t you?” Genie slurred confidently.
“Well, you’re sweet and sexy, just like that drink.” Varsara winked and leaned in closely. “But me and the others have a bet...”
“A bet?” Genie frowned. “What kind of bet?”
“As to which one of us you will sleep with first. Naturally, we all bet on ourselves,” the flirty Werewolf said with a grin, before backing up and looking apologetic. “Sorry, I mean no offence!”
“Pfft, none taken,” Genevieve smiled. “But I hate to break it to you girls; I’m really not that easy. My heart belongs to another.”
“Well, that is a shame. She is a very lucky woman.” Varsara smiled and left to take more orders.
“Yeah, she was.” Genevieve winced, remembering that her precious Annabelle was gone for good.
The crushing realisation tore a hole in her chest and twisted her stomach in knots once again. Genie gulped down her second cocktail and replaced her low with a new high. She shook away her forming tears and hopped onto the dancefloor, closing her eyes and letting the beat flow through her. She could feel the warmth of the people around her, the brush of their bodies as they danced closely, and the smell of their perfumes and body odours mingled into one mystifying scent that her deliberately dazed mind couldn’t interpret.
At some point the music stopped and Genevieve heard Seth calling for quiet. She opened her eyes to see him standing at the bar, wearing a ridiculous gold-coloured waistcoat over a short-sleeved white shirt. He had smart black trousers and shoes on, along with his normal array of gold jewellery.
His arm was firmly around Scythe’s waist, who was wearing a minuscule gold sequined dress that displayed all her impressive assets in their jaw-dropping splendour. The Mage had even rubbed her skin with glittery oil.
“Golden Fangs!” Seth announced loudly. “I give you our champion of the hour!” He gestured for Genevieve to join him.
Genie walked in a staggered line towards her boss and everyone in the bar watched on in silence. She stood on the opposite side to him as Scythe, and allowed Seth to take her hand.
The leader of the Golden Fangs raised Genie’s hand in the air and cheered. “Genevieve Jameson, the Morriganigh slayer!”
The whole room cheered and whistled wildly, and Genevieve blew over-the-top kisses out to the gang members. Seth lit up a Dreamleaf joint as Genevieve began bowing theatrically to her fans, and she caught Scythe giving her a filthy look, so she moved closer to Seth and placed her arm around his side, taking care not to
touch the icy Mage. Seth put the joint in his mouth and gestured to the two gorgeous women either side of him, and the crowd roared with laughter.
“Now, get back to partying!” Seth yelled. “That’s a fucking order!”
As the music came on, Genevieve leaned over Seth to address Scythe. “I’m liking the look. I thought my outfit was slutty, but yours really takes the biscuit!” she said rudely, while tapping the top of the Mage’s large breasts to make them wobble.
Scythe bared her teeth. “Your outfit is my outfit.”
“Oh yeah, silly me.” Genie shrugged and wiped her finger on her own chest, leaving a glittery oil smear on the tight black fabric.
“You drunken slag,” Scythe hissed angrily.
Instead of responding, Genevieve took the joint out of Seth’s mouth and snogged him sloppily while giving Scythe the finger. As soon as Genie had finished, the Mage lashed out at her, but Seth grabbed Scythe’s hand and clasped it tightly.
“Hey, hey, calm it,” he chided. “She’s just getting used to the Golden Fang way of life is all, and there’s plenty of me to go around,” he added goofily.
Genevieve gave the Mage a sharp smirk and took a massive drag on the Dreamleaf joint. As she slowly exhaled, the floor turned to dirt and patchy grey grass sprouted as the hallucinogenic effects kicked in. Horrid black thorns with bladed golden tips erupted from the dancefloor, and the gang members danced around them in bloodstained robes. With several intoxicants racing around her bloodstream, the visions were all the more real, and Genevieve dropped the joint as Annabelle rose from the dancefloor, crucified by the razor-sharp thorns. Blood gushed all over her delicate white robes, and red drops wept down from her brow as more thorns wove themselves into a bloody black and gold tiara. Annabelle was thrust forward so that she was suspended directly in front of Genevieve.