by Leon Logos
“I think I’m gonna faint,” she breathed, sweating profusely.
Her body temperature had skyrocketed, radiating sweltering heat.
“Stop being such a wimp,” Cackle scorned tactlessly.
“Shut up,” she responded, gritting her teeth.
“Your first battle wound,” said Cackle, conjuring up a silver lining.
“Just leave me here,” she said selflessly, though she wasn’t wholehearted about the request. If an enemy was to walk in, she’d be defenseless without Cackle.
“Desmos might need help.”
“He told me to take you, I’m gonna disobey what might be his final order,” said Cackle irritably. “And besides, his enemy is injured.”
With the tourniquet applied and the blood flow ceased, Serenity felt more comfortable now. She worked on slowing down her heartbeat and her breathing, trying to regulate herself. She looked up at Cackle.
“‘Enemy’?” she repeated. “No, Gunther. Father.”“
Yeah, whatever,” said Cackle, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and wiping his bloodied hands with it. He tossed the towel in the corner.
“Is it true?” she asked. “You tried to kill him?”
Cackle paused before answering.
“That was Garen mostly,” he said. “The fire was accidental, though.”
“How did it happen?” she inquired, wanting to know everything.
“Don’t ask, this isn’t story time—”
“Please,” she entreated, with sincerity. “Stop trying to hide it from me. I know now already. And Desmos knows, too.”
Cackle sighed, muttering another arbitrary insult under his breath.
“Before we left Patrick’s house, we soaked the whole house in lighter fluid. A lot of it. When Garen and Father started brawling, Garen knocked down a lantern. Everything started blazing. He knocked Father down and we all bolted out of the house. And we never looked back.”
“Was that after you realized Desmos and Kyler were…?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” Cackle replied. “I don’t have a problem telling you this, but I didn’t want to come here in the first place. But once Garen was on board, and then Agno, I had no damn choice.”
A grenade exploded somewhere far out in the house.
“Goddamn it,” Cackle groaned disdainfully, leaning back on the recliner. “It’s all your damn fault. It always is.”
“I didn’t ask any of you to come for me,” she said forcefully. “I didn’t want you to. It’s your fault this is all happening. I’m not the one that decided to launch an attack on this estate.”
“You’re yapping a bit too much for someone that just got shot,” said Cackle.
“I’m enduring it,” she snapped.
“I’ll be back,” he said, exiting her room. “Need to find a weapon…”
Though, he probably just needed an excuse to leave the vicinity to not have to deal with her moping.
Serenity pondered the whereabouts of her cousins. Sixto was still down in the bunker, thankfully alive. But Lily, Lyla and Destiny were still missing. And then there was Dorian. The other Councilmen were inconsequential to her. But Dorian, she respected him more than Alistair. Preceding his demise, her uncle had conveyed resentment and a condemnatory sentiment of her. And it offended her drastically, learning that Alistair’s intention was to use her as bait, not to retrieve his beloved niece and welcome her cordially into the family. And it worked. All the other Carlisles were lured into the residence.
She felt relieved at the epiphany that not all was lost. Sixto was still alive. The three sisters were not confirmed dead. As if jolted with electricity, she zipped upright. Serenity considered retrieving Sixto. She looked at the exit with the broken-down door. Cackle was not back yet. It was unclear how long he would be searching for a weapon. But not long enough for her to waste too much time dawdling and deciding. She couldn’t afford to be dilatory. Serenity got to her feet, but then hobbled. She couldn’t put any weight on her injured leg. Resigned, she sat back down. It was irrational.
Cackle returned with an AR-15 rifle.
“I had to sneak up behind a guy after he finished the other off,” he remarked. “Though, I think it was one of Viktor’s men I knocked out.”
“Is he losing?” she asked.
“No idea,” said Cackle. “But I don’t think we’ll get the chance to steal their shit. We’ve got to get out of here fast.”
“Great, so let’s go,” she said approvingly. “You’ll have to carry me.”
“I’m not a damn horse!” Cackle complained. “First Kyler, now you!”
“Where is Kyler anyway?” she said, eager to know.
“Back in the outpost,” he said. “He’s supposed to be there with Agno. And Desmos was supposed to be there too. I don’t know how he got out.”
“He seems okay,” she commented. “You sure he was tortured?”
“Desmos got mettle, I’m not surprised,” Cackle said indifferently. “They underestimated him. But he’s changed so much, it’s shocking.”
“I know…” she concurred. “All of you have, though…”
“Yeah, and now look where we are,” Cackle said derisively. “Our whole lives are over. Father’s gone, and we might be next.”
“Father being gone isn’t much of an issue, Cackle,” said Serenity candidly. “Think about it. You’ll be free to do whatever you want.”
“I just wanna kill Aurelians,” Cackle refuted disgruntledly.
“No, you don’t,” she said. “Dorian was right. You don’t want this…”
“That Sherlock Holmes impostor?” Cackle scoffed. “He doesn’t know anything about me. I’m glad he’s dead. And you should be too. You should be glad these Aurelians are getting killed. Because, as it turns out, they didn’t want you anyway! They were just trying to bait us! And it worked!”
“Yeah, the Councilmen were,” she admitted. “But not my—not my cousins. They had nothing to do with it! Do you realize how much of a monster you have to be? To slaughter kids?”
“Father looked pretty berserk, he doesn’t care,” said Cackle. “I’ve seen him pissed before. But not like that. He looks like a madman.”
“Which is why Desmos might need help,” she reasoned. “You saw how your knife didn’t do much! He pulled it out like it was nothing!”
“Even if he did need help, and even if I decided to help him, it’s not my fight,” said Cackle. “Desmos wouldn’t want me to intervene.”
“What are you saying?” she asked, vexed.
“Don’t be such a dumbass, Serenity,” Cackle reproached. “He decided to fight and defy him on his own terms. It was his choice.”
“I’m glad he came to his senses,” she said. “It pissed me off that you guys never realized that he was using us. We were his slaves.”
This was true. They had no control over their lives and were essentially—as Desmos put it—puppets. Their lives were tantamount to the life of a slave, or even a servant.
“We all knew, we just didn’t care,” Cackle confessed, in a low voice. “We had food, clothes, money…all we needed to live. And we were taught to be strong. We could even go to school, though it was pointless. And besides, Father never beat us. And we were mostly on our own anyway. No, we weren’t slaves. We were just obedient kids.”
“You get what I’m trying to say, though,” she sighed. “I know you do.”
“Forget about it now, it’s all over,” said Cackle.
“And it might be for us here…”
“Yeah, like your cousins,” Cackle joked flippantly.
She couldn’t let this facetious quip slide. In anger, she grabbed a piece of broken glass from the floor and used it as a projectile. She threw it at him. Cackle deflected it with his rifle, not startled at all.
“You have no respect!” she said reprovingly. “Seriously! No decency!”
“Maybe so, but you’re alive thanks to me,” said Cackle.
“If it only were Kyler instead
of you,” she muttered ill-temperedly.
“Sorry, your baby is unavailable,” Cackle taunted. “Please leave a message. Honestly, I never understood why you hate us but not him.”
“You really have to ask?” she said pointedly. “You? Maybe because he doesn’t treat me like garbage? Or doesn’t bully me every day?!”
“I can name plenty of times he was cold with you,” Cackle returned.
“Yeah, but he’s the only one that accepts me for who I am!”
“A weakling?” Cackle said caustically.
“Yes!” she admitted. “That I can’t be like any of you savages!”
“I can’t stay here,” Cackle groaned. “Let’s go. I wanna find the others.”
She didn’t protest. Cackle walked up to her. She climbed onto his back, wrapping his arms around his neck. He used one hand to hold her up, the other needed to wield the rifle. She held onto him tightly, the balance unstable with one of his hands not supporting her other leg.
Serenity was just as discontent with the situation as Cackle. She liked nothing about having to be carried around, helpless and feeble. Cackle descended the stairs, each step prickling her with a sharp pain. An Aurelian soldier tottered into the entrance hall, limping. Without hesitation, Cackle shot him. The man dropped to his knees and fell over.
Both sides’ numbers were dwindled drastically already. It was impossible to tell who was winning the battle. Viktor was nowhere to be seen, just like Garen. Cackle stood in the entrance hall, choosing which path to take. He glanced left and then right, then repeated.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” said Cackle, flustered. “I’m supposed to hide, but I also don’t want to. You’re such a damn burden, you know that?”
“I’ve been told,” she said gloomily. “Wanna check up on Desmos?” she suggested.
Cackle didn’t say anything. His head was fixed to the right, staring at the right-side hall. She could tell something was alarming him. She turned her head in the same direction and the effect was immediate. Her whole body shivered, her wound tingling in disquietude. Initially on fire, her body turned to ice. Not even Gunther’s appearance was as paralyzing.
A Venator stood at the end of the hall, still with an all-black attire and a concealed face. There wasn’t a visible scratch or wound on his body. Of course, not even a line of skin was visible, as his whole body was covered in armor and clothing. The Venator wielded the same bizarre spear he displayed during his meeting with Patrick. She was aware of how the spear could inexplicably protrude or extend to a considerable length; and how it could also retract to a much shorter length, all in the blink of an eye.
“Shoot him,” Serenity whispered urgently. “Cackle, now!”
Cackle didn’t need her to remind him. With one arm, he aimed at the Venator and then let loose, his finger glued to the trigger. The rifle burst and banged nonstop for a full ten seconds. She couldn’t cover her ears, as her arms were too busy holding on to him for support. But her eyes were fixed on the Venator, recognizing that almost every bullet was hitting. However, there was something wrong. None of the bullets seemed to have any effect. It looked like the bullets were rebounding off the Venator’s armor. Cackle depleted his ammunition, out of magazines. He gaped at the Venator, speechless. The most his rifle did was push the Venator back a bit, making him twitch subtly. The impact force was present, but nothing more. No effect overall.
Cackle started to panic, dropping the rifle. It was useless now. The Venator started speed-walking towards them. He wasn’t even running, as if conveying that he didn’t need to run to catch them.
The very second the Venator took the first step, Cackle took off in the opposite direction. She tightened her arms’ grip around his neck. She couldn’t blame Cackle for being scared. She had never seen him like this before, but the Venator was the one enemy who could intimidate even the brothers. Even Gunther.
They rushed down the halls, turning left and right randomly. The sheer breadth and length of the main house was mind-boggling. Cackle couldn’t move as fast as he normally could, with her on his back. She gave a fleeting glance behind her, alarmed that the Venator was keeping up with them. The Venator broke into a run, converging on them steadily.
Cackle took a sharp left, entering the study section of the house. All the libraries, classrooms, laboratories, and even a mini-museum was situated in this region of the house. Cackle took the second door to the left in the corridor and darted inside. He looked around frantically, searching for a hiding spot. There was a huge desk sitting on its side, like a wall. Cackle hastened towards it, taking cover behind it. He crouched down, hissing at her to get off of him. She did so, minding her wounded leg as she crouched down next to him. They were in the classroom of Mrs. White, the sole governess of the Aurelians. All the desks and tables were toppled over, and the board was somehow split in two. Mrs. White was nowhere to be seen, which she had no problem with. As much as she disliked the pedantic woman, it would still be disturbing finding her corpse.
Except for the distant booms and bangs, it was dead quiet in the classroom. They hushed their breathing, listening keenly for the Venator. To their dread, his footsteps approached.
From this point, they could only hear the Venator. He stepped into the room, taking three or four steps inside. He then halted. She assumed he was looking around now, surveying the room for any indication of their presence. The Venator stood planted to the floor for a whole minute, but it felt like an hour. Why was he taking so long? Did he know they were there? No, he must’ve been waiting for them to let out noise by accident. Suddenly, the Venator started moving again. But his footsteps were quickened, denoting that he was full-on sprinting. Sprinting towards them.
Cackle realized and immediately sprang out from behind the table, charging the Venator. In alarm, she peeked over the table, watching the two of them battle. Cackle didn’t have his knife with him anymore. He was forced to use only his fists. The Venator seized Cackle by the throat and literally launched him across the room. Cackle tumbled over a desk, hitting the floor hard. Cackle performed a kip-up to his feet an instant later, shaking off the pain. He circled around the Venator warily, watching his feet.
“Watch the spear!” she cried. “It gets long in an instant!”
Cackle gave her a fleeting glance of perplexion, but immediately realized what she was talking about. The Venator extended his spear, lunging forward. Cackle managed to evade it, arching back so low that the back of his head was only four inches from the floor. The blade of the spear nearly made contact with his face, nearly cutting an eye out.
Cackle was being solely defensive, dodging and avoiding the spear as much as he could. There was no way he could attack, not with the Venator’s spear blocking all openings. It was difficult to maneuver around the classroom with all the overturned desks. Cackle grabbed one of them and used it as a shield. The Venator sliced off the legs of the desk with ease, but Cackle kept the surface of the desk to block lunges. It worked enough. The spear’s blade stabbed through the surface, the tip a centimeter from Cackle’s chest. Upon realizing that the spear was stuck in it, Cackle threw the surface of the desk to the left, making the spear shift the same way.
Now that his enemy was disarmed, he tackled the Venator, and the wrestling began. The Venator was purely superior to Cackle in strength and size. In a second, Cackle was overpowered. The Venator began slamming Cackle’s head against the floor, the same way Cackle did to Sixto back in the bunker. With Cackle incapacitated, the Venator walked over to the spear, wrenched his weapon out of the desk, and tossed it to the side. Instead of going for a stab or slash, he went for suffocation. The Venator clenched Cackle’s neck with one hand, applying all the pressure he could muster. Cackle choked and gagged, struggling to breathe.
In alarm, Serenity hobbled at the Venator. Even if she was powerless, she had to do something. Serenity grabbed a desk and rushed to Cackle’s aid with virtually one leg. The Venator no
ticed her two seconds before she would’ve reached him. With all the strength she could muster, she threw the desk at him. It collided with the Venator’s head but did no damage. However, he released Cackle. His attention now on Serenity, the Venator stormed up to her in annoyance. She fell to her bottom, tripping over an overturned desk. In panic, she began crawling backwards to avoid him. Her heart was beating faster than a fighter jet breaking the sound barrier. This was her end. It was all over. She had finally lucked out.
But she was so focused on the Venator, and preoccupied with her imminent demise, that she didn’t notice someone sneak up behind him. The Venator spun around a second too late. A second that could’ve saved himself. Kyler showed up now out of nowhere, running the Venator through the chest with his own spear. The blade protruded almost entirely out of his chest, coated with blood. Kyler didn’t withdraw the spear, keeping it inside of him. The Venator stumbled backwards, convulsing erratically. He dropped to his knees, attempting to remove his weapon from inside of him. In under thirty seconds, the Venator went completely still after a long, fading groan. He was dead. Serenity gawked up at Kyler, who appeared exhausted but well for the most part. He was no longer debilitated, it seemed.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, staring wide-eyed at him. “What are you doing here, Kyler? I mean, I’m glad you’re here, but…”
“The hell is that spear made of?” Cackle groaned, sitting upright. “Bullets don’t work on him, but the blade does? Oh crap, my head!”
“You good?” Kyler asked Cackle.
“I’m so d-dizzy,” Cackle grunted. “I might pass out. Need ten minutes to rest. N-not even, a whole hour…”
Kyler grabbed a desk and placed it on its legs properly. He then helped Serenity up. She sat down on the top of the desk.
“What happened to your leg?” he said, noticing it for the first time. “And your face? Who did that to you?”
“Got shot,” she said tersely. “And long story… How are you?”