by Sean Davies
Genevieve had added the waster category as a joke, but the amusement of what she’d written soon faded and left her feeling depressed.
“I couldn’t do that to mum and dad,” she said drearily, “and besides, Annabelle would kill me again in the afterlife.”
An afterlife which Genevieve was sure existed in some shape and form, after her lucid encounter with her beloved friend on the mystical blue plains.
Genie added a few more notes but still felt as clueless as when she’d begun. She couldn’t believe how much being side-lined by Seth had affected her, how much her existence currently revolved around avenging Annabelle and chasing the seemingly unobtainable answers surrounding her death.
Genevieve got up and paced around the flat, once again frustrated at Seth’s unreasonable treatment.
“I didn’t pull the fucking trigger,” she swore bitterly.
She noticed that her answerphone was flashing and wondered hopefully if it was Seth cutting her in on the plan after all. She pressed the play button and was surprised to hear Gaius’ voice.
“Whatever you do, Genevieve,” he began smoothly, as though he were a famous play actor reciting the beginning of a grand scene, “do not, I repeat, do not go into the woods today.”
Genevieve listened to the message over and over. Listening to the strange way he emphasised certain words, and by putting together what she knew of the crafty Werewolf’s ways, she was sure that he was urging her to disobey Seth’s orders and go anyway. She was also surprised that Seth would strike in the daytime and after they’d thrown a massive celebration in the woods. There would be dozens and dozens, if not more, Morriganigh present when he attacked.
“Oh fuck, that’s the point…” Genevieve groaned.
She realised that Seth, in his thick skull, planned on wiping out as many rivals as he could in one strike. He wasn’t just pursuing the leaders anymore; after the humiliating set-up and party honouring the clever deceit, Seth planned on punishing them to the fullest.
“And will most likely get himself killed in the process.” Genie rolled her eyes in disbelief, imagining Seth hitting a hornet’s nest with a stick.
Genevieve found the remaining Sunshield potion that Chloe had gifted her and stared at the glass vial as she thought about what to do next. She didn’t particularly care about Seth, but she didn’t want to sit back and let him die either. Seth had transformed her into a Vampire and taken her in when he could have left her to die on the floor of the Woodsholme Grill. Even if he had only done it because she reminded him of Elissa, Genie still felt ever so slightly grateful to him, as it had given her the means and power to avenge Annabelle. Although, she really didn’t like to admit it, even to herself. Genevieve also considered Gaius’ words, and if her cunning mentor wanted her at the forest, where her precious answers and revenge could be, then who was she to argue?
“Guess I’m coming to the rescue, Seth Goldfang,” Genie sighed, feeling as though she had sufficiently talked herself into going to the Koill Monastery. “Whether you want me there or not.”
She dressed herself in a red pleated skirt that offered good movement and equipped her throwing knives on her thigh, long black boots that would do well in the woods as well as hurt the Morriganigh she planned on kicking, and a black short-sleeved top which she tucked into her waistband. She went to equip her Katana, but realised she might be in human eyeshot, and wrapped it in a towel. The last thing the Golden Fangs needed was more exposure. Genevieve swigged the Sunshield potion and sped off to Taynulia.
It was another beautiful day, and when Genie arrived at the same overlook where she’d spotted the Morriganigh jeeps the night before, she thought the humans of the town were admiring the sun. That was, until she noticed the flames in the distance.
“You stupid, stupid man…” she muttered as she pulled over.
Genevieve felt compelled to know what the public were saying about the situation, and to know if she should be looking for sanctuary as far away from Fort Dominia and the Golden Fangs as possible. She timidly approached the crowd and settled on the edge of their group. The flames weren’t as bad as she’d originally imagined, but she could also hear gunshots echoing distantly through the region. She felt like striking her face with the palm of her hand in disbelief.
“Where are the bleedin’ authorities?” an old man said angrily.
“I’ve been to the station,” a woman holding a toddler answered, “but they’re all over by Woodsholme way. Apparently there was some massive crime wave last night, vandalisms and thefts all over the show.”
Genevieve rolled her eyes yet again and remembered some of the radio reports she’d half-consciously listened to. Seth’s idea of a distraction was making a lot of chaos to slightly hide the first big mess.
“They even stole medicine from Briar’s Edge and set fire to the woods near the mountain pass,” an elderly woman complained bitterly. “I think someone said the fire engines are on the way soon.”
“It’s those bloody kids and their poxy fireworks!” the old man shouted. “The Autocrat should conscript the lot of them!”
A murmur of agreement swept through the crowd and Genevieve joined in, breathing a sigh of relief that some small slither of cover remained.
‘Maybe the Trinity of Old won’t come for us just yet,’ Genevieve thought gratefully as she drove off, but she imagined that their patience would be waning, along with Gaius’ on the home front.
Genevieve went off road as soon as she was off the steep incline and on level ground, hoping that anyone watching was more occupied with the forest than a lone vehicle, and headed to the coordinates she’d memorised. It wasn’t long before she spotted more vehicles, one of which was Seth’s white jeep, parked by the tree line. She grabbed her Katana and hopped out of the jeep, and noticed that some of the trees were shimmering oddly. As the sound of gunshots tore through the air, a few of the trees disappeared momentarily, revealing a wide track beneath the arching branches and leaves. She timidly crossed through the flickering, half-faltering enchantment and followed a series of tyre tracks to her target.
With every quick step along the Morriganigh-made driveway the sound of gunfire and shouting grew louder, and Genevieve even heard the booming of explosions rippling through the tightly packed trees.
Koill Monastery came into view, and the old white stone building had been dutifully restored by the Morriganigh, although the original windows were long gone and replaced with wooden planks. A bell tower looked over the artificial clearing and was currently being used as a sniper’s nest. Crumbling walls and the remnants of smaller buildings circled the old monastery, and wounded members of the Golden Fangs took cover behind them while others flung spells and bullets at their shady foes.
Genie ran onto the battlefield, unsure of which side was winning, and quickly kicked a grenade away as it landed by her feet. She somersaulted into cover while dispatching a Morriganigh Werewolf Swiftpaw with two throwing knives that landed in each of the beast’s yellow eyes.
She peeked over the crumbling walls to try and get a good look at the situation. Multiple versions of a female Mage wearing a dark green trench coat, and a black feathered scarf that contrasted wickedly with her wild white hair, was warping across the area summoning shadowy purple tendrils that threw or cut the Golden Fangs she encountered. Every time someone killed a copy of the woman, it simply phased out of existence and left the main Mage completely unharmed. Grenades were flying, spells were crashing into cover, and gunfire pelted the ruins on both sides. Genie was forced to duck sharply as a barrage of sniper fire came her way from the bell tower, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to retaliate with her knives. She reached over to a dead Golden Fang and pried a rifle from his fingers. Genie took a deep breath and stood up, aiming directly at the snipers.
A massive crash tore through the area, and Archie smashed through the stone bell tower as though it was made of cardboard. His shirt and trousers had been torn to shreds by his own massive grey
muscles, his highlighted hair had grown into an array of long black and blonde spikes, and his gaping mouth was filled with savage bladed teeth that wouldn’t allow his jaw to close. As he fell towards the ground, he impaled two snipers on each set of his talons and drove them into the dirt. He sniffed the air and bounded towards Genevieve.
With the bell tower gone, the Golden Fangs rallied and renewed their assault, and Genevieve hopped over the stone wall to greet Archie.
“I thought Seth told you not to come,” he growled ferally. “Couldn’t stay away, huh, slayer?”
“Where is he-” Genevieve began, but then screamed, “Look out!”
The mysterious Mage had materialised nearby and abandoned her shadow magic in lieu of one of the fallen sniper’s rifles. Before Archie could move, a massive bullet shot through his thick skull, and Genevieve fired her rifle at one illusion after the other as the bulky Vampire hit the dirt with a thud. Genevieve’s clip ran out, so she threw the rifle to the floor and switched to her throwing knives. She wasn’t sure if she’d killed the elusive Mage or not, but for a moment she was offered a long enough pause to check on Archie.
At first, she assumed the Vampire Ironfang was dead outright, but the bullet hole in his temple was slowly but surely closing, although blood was pouring out of the wound in the meantime. A green-clad Vampire Nightclaw swooped onto her position along with a Werewolf Brutebeast, and Genevieve saw her chance to save the muscle-headed Vampire Ironfang. With her adrenaline pumping to the fullest, Genevieve’s incredible reactions were primed for combat, and her ridiculous speed and razor-sharp Katana made easy work of her would-be foes before they could even settle for their opening assault. Genie pulled what was left of the now human Werewolf over to Archie’s mouth, his eyes spinning around goofily before he sensed the blood nearby, and then gorged himself on the corpse until he was fully healed.
Archie hopped to his feet, laughing and pounding his swollen chest with his fists like a gorilla. “Takes more than lead to down an Ironfang!” he announced proudly while ruffling Genie’s new hairdo in some form of a thank you. “Seth’s inside with the other big-wigs. Go kick their asses; that Mage bitch is mine!” he roared as a pack of birds dove down from the trees. The Ironfang sliced them into bits and pieces as he leapt into the nearest melee struggle.
Genevieve noticed that above the sounds of magic, explosions, and gunfire, the forest had become a cacophony of squealing and squawking. The trees around the clearing that weren’t aflame were filled with large black birds, some of which had gleaming yellow eyes; the sign of a Werewolf Shaman.
The massive swarm of birds flew into the fray, savagely ripping, clawing, and pecking the Golden Fangs as they were slowly gaining the upper hand. Genevieve sliced, diced, and somersaulted her way to the monastery’s entrance, leaving a trail of blood and feathers in her wake.
The inside of the Koill Monastery was a strange mix of the classical religious look mixed with the interwoven tribal style of the ancient Gaellians, crossed with the supplies, spoils, and weaponry of a Supernatural gang. The altar had been replaced with three wooden thrones decorated with woven vines and thorns, and one of them was occupied by a gaunt looking Vampire in a dark green robe lined with black feathers. His face was as pale as ivory, covered in dark green tattoos, and his extremely long black hair fell over the throne and onto the wooden floorboards beneath. His red eyes were fixed amusedly on a screaming Vampire before him with a shredded face.
A swarm of large black crows with yellow eyes had pecked out the poor man’s eyes and torn off massive sections of his face and scalp, but instead of fighting them away, he danced around punching the air as though he were fighting an invisible foe.
Genevieve rushed towards the blood-drenched Golden Fang with her Katana poised to strike, stepping deftly over her eviscerated gang brethren.
The ravaged Vampire screamed, spraying blood from its torn mouth. “Elissa! Get the fuck away from Elissa, you old hag! I won’t let you get her, not this time, not again!”
“Seth?!” Genevieve gasped, and then found herself on the shores of Tropica.
Genie looked around at the long white beach and crystal clear waters, savouring the heat from the sun on her bare flesh. She could feel the warm, silky soft sand in-between her toes, and hear the tropical birds cawing from the exotic forests and jungles towards the main land. A nagging thought tore her away from the paradise, a sense that it wasn’t at all real, and for a moment her face felt incredibly sore. Genevieve looked down and saw that she was in a skimpy yellow bikini, leaving little of her athletic form to the imagination.
“Glad I talked you into wearing it now?” Annabelle chuckled as she strolled out of the clear sea water wearing her own stringy red two-piece.
Genevieve gawped at Anna’s amazing body and wanted to tear off the tiny bikini with her bare teeth, but quickly remembered that she hadn’t revealed her feelings yet. Her own use of the past tense rippled through her mind, causing immense, unpleasant confusion. Her face felt painful again and she knew that something was wrong.
“Speechless, huh?” Annabelle sighed seductively. “How are you going to cope when I do this, Genie-girl?”
Anna slowly pulled the knots on her bikini, revealing her large firm breasts first and then freeing her perfectly trimmed triangle of pubic hair afterwards.
“Annabelle… you want me too?” Genevieve asked, already moving to pounce on the love of her life. “Wait, I already know you do… you told me before… you’re dead…” She sobbed uncontrollably, and the pain in her face suddenly stopped.
Annabelle stood completely motionless like she was a sculpture of Genevieve’s vision of perfection.
“Would you like to know who did it?” a low male voice whispered through the warm breeze.
Genie spun around on the spot, trying to locate the speaker. “Who, what, and where are you?!”
“If you’re prepared to listen, we can make a deal…” the male voice spoke through reality once more.
Genie was touched on the shoulder by the gaunt, long-haired Morriganigh Vampire and she gasped, “Bloodmage!”
The Vampire nodded as the Tropican paradise melted into oblivion of warped colours and distorted shapes. “Will you be reasonable, put away your weapons, and listen to reason?” he droned calmly.
Genevieve’s memories flooded back, and she nodded eagerly. “Deal. Now tell me-”
The side of the Vampire Bloodmage’s neck opened outwards into a demented fountain of flesh, muscle tissue, bone, and blood. The skin around his throat tightened and stretched until it began to split. The warped false reality around Genevieve disappeared as the Bloodmage’s head was torn from his shoulders by a barbarically howling Archie.
Genevieve grabbed her Katana, which she had dropped on the floor at some point during her mental incarceration, and began swiping at the large black crows assaulting the severely wounded leader of the Golden Fangs. She completely ignored the deep claw marks slowly healing on her own face as she attempted to save Seth.
Archie attempted to help, but his large brutish form was too slow to get a good hit on the Werewolf Shaman in its swarm form. He shrunk down to his regular form, allowing his grey nigh-Feral muscles to recede back into normal pale flesh, and grabbed Seth’s big pistol. He fired wildly at the vengeful birds and managed to hit a few, and they exploded into puffs of black feathers as the bullets hit home.
Genevieve whipped herself around, kicking, clawing, and striking out with her Katana like a whirlwind of pure death. She was furious the Bloodmage had used the image of Annabelle to pacify her, but Genie kept her mind calm, focused, and determined, just like Gaius had taught her. Every bird she killed was like a segment of satisfaction for her soul. ‘This one’s for Anna,’ she thought fleetingly after every kill.
The few living crows, along with the mangled crow corpses, slithered together and formed a short naked woman with scruffy dark brown hair. She was covered from head to toe in swirling green tattoos and almost as many cut
s, bruises, and bullet holes. She collapsed on her throne with a dumbfounded drooling expression painted on her once beautiful face.
Archie and Genevieve rushed over to the dead Shaman and dragged her unceremoniously to Seth, who was near enough faceless and blubbing weakly from his bloody mouth. The leader of the Golden Fangs roared like a madman, spraying his own blood from his maw as he did, and bit into the fallen Werewolf. He sated himself on her blood, and savagely ripped her flesh apart with his teeth to gorge himself on more. Seth’s wounds slithered shut and his flesh knitted together, his patchy hair filled out, and his eyes were fully restored.
Seth surveyed the scene around him, looked down at his blood-drenched clothes, and then looked up at Genevieve with a maddened expression.
“Seth, I can explain,” Genie began nervously.
The leader of the Golden Fangs rushed forward, lifted Genevieve up by her waist, and danced around happily.
“Was I wrong to doubt you, or what?!” Seth cheered. “You are so back, baby!”
“Archie helped too!” Genie yelped as she was thrown away from the freshly healed Vampire.
“After what these fucks did to Chaz, it was the least I could do,” Archie chuckled cluelessly.
Seth put Genevieve down and shot her a stern look that was so powerful it stopped her from reacting to Archie’s statement in any way, shape, or form.
“We’ll celebrate later,” Seth said gruffly, heading towards the exit. “Let’s blow this joint. You get the Mage leader, Archie?”
Archie frowned as he followed on. “About a hundred of the bitch. Not sure if any of them were real or not…”
They walked outside onto the aftermath of the battle. Without the Werewolf Shaman’s flock of aerial assailants, and after Archie had either killed or forced the retreat of the illusion Mage, the other Morriganigh had quickly fallen prey to the ultra-violent Golden Fangs. The air was thick with smoke from the multitude of smouldering fires and stank of freshly slaughtered livestock, and Genevieve had to cover her mouth to block the smell as they stepped out to greet the victorious Golden Fangs. Seth grabbed Archie and Genie’s hands and rose them into the air in victory, and the surviving gang members cheered. Despite her grim surroundings, Genevieve couldn’t help but get caught up in the atmosphere and she cheered back, feeling especially ecstatic as she’d finally avenged her best friend and lover Annabelle.