The Order: A Knight Of Fangs

by J. X. Evans

  Mark stopped himself from puking and walked out of the shattered door to find that the old butler had moved further down the hall, next to another door and he was waiting outside of it, pointing with the same slender finger as before, breathing regularly now. “Last one.” He said, and Mark moved, kicked that one in as well; but only after he had shouted for everyone to get out of the way and no answer came. This time there was the little girl from the papers sprawled on the bed, she seemed more or less in the same predicament as the boy though. Mark left the boy to lay on the hard, dusty table in the corner for a bit. The girl looked considerably better in comparison to the boy, but still she lacked the gleam that her age usually goes with. She was pale and her cheeks seemed way less pudgy than in the newspaper photo and she too had the paleness of death. And her lungs were not breathing nor was her heart beating. She was nowhere near as ghastly as the boy though. Mark followed the same process, hoping that everything would go well but he just could not see it, things rarely turn out the best way possible. He wasn’t even sure what the best outcome could be. He emerged from the door with a blanket-covered child in each arm.

  ‘I have to get these three to safety and return to help the other two’ Mark thought before turning to speak to the old man again. “Where to? Is there somewhere we can get out from without going through the main entrance?”

  The old man took a couple of sorrowful looks at the two children and then he spoke, “Yeah, there is a small balcony at the other side of this floor. There are stairs to the garden, come...Do you need some help?” he asked and extended two hands to take one of the kids in his own arms.

  “I am good, it’s nothing, really. Just lead the way.” The butler nodded and started making his way down the hallway.

  Mark pulled out a small, black walkie-talkie from a pocket and spoke, “Perry, do you read me? Over.”

  “Yes.” Perry responded three seconds later and the sounds of battle and snarling thralls that echoed through the whole estate came louder still from the device.

  “I have the kids. I am heading out. East side of the building, two minutes. Also, you got to say over. Over.”

  “What?” Perry grunted in a questioning manner. It sounded as if he had just hit something as he spoke.

  “Say, over when you are done so that I know when I can speak again. Over.”

  “I will come out there in two minutes and I will do you over.”

  “You will do me what? Over.”

  “Shut up you blubbering idiot. Get done with it and come help.”

  ‘Well that was a bit harsh but…understandably so’ Mark thought and kept following the old man until they reached a double glass door that led to a balcony with view of the surrounding forest as far as the eye could see, be it mortal or a Knight’s the horizon is the horizon. The old man took a key from a desk next to the doors, unlocked them and pushed them open. Cold, fresh air hit his face and Mark got out, started going down the steps two at a time. Mark detected the sound of a faraway stressing, rattling engine approaching quickly and a white van rushed in through the barely large opening of the metal gate of the estate. The van and its crazed driver made its way up the trail, going through beautifully sculpted, leafy maze, bushes and flower beds, not even bothering to make an attempt to follow the road to finally crush through a large window that spanned from almost the bottom of the first floor to barely touch the base of the ground. The sounds of snarling thralls rushed through the broken window and doubled in intensity. Mark swallowed and took a deep breath. He kept going down the steps and told the old man to follow quickly.

  30. REMATCH

  Perry and Rob had cornered the remaining thralls between a solid wall and a thick curtain of ice inside which resided the dead body of one of the two vampires; Jacob Rob thought it was, but he could not be sure since most of the corpse’s body was into the dim, cold ice curtain that Perry had erected and the face had been mostly caved in by the rim of his shield. While the other half of the duo had made himself or herself scarce.

  He was standing beside Perry, ready to assist in any way he might be needed, but it seemed as if Perry had it all under control. The space left between the wall and the icy curtain was after all large enough for a full, easy swing of his fiery whip that cleaved through rotting meat almost as easily as through butter. Any thralls that dared to charge forward were instantly stopped in their tracks.

  Rob heard the sound of a straining car engine and then saw a white van, flying in through a tall window. The car stopped halfway through the shattered window after it had skidded upon the bloody, corpse ridden floor and two vampires came out of it. The big, blonde guy from the alley, and a tall red-headed woman. The three of them met gazes and Rob moved to stand in front of them, taking a defensive stance. A moment later he saw a bright red light, from the corner of his eye. He heard the whoosh of a lancing flame connecting to a body of ice and melting it, and Perry was next to him.

  “So much for conserving my energy.” Perry whispered to Rob.

  “I get the big one.” Rob answered through clenched teeth.

  “You never let me get the big ones.” Perry whispered back at him.

  All the while, the female vampire drew a long rapier and played with it, twirling it between her fingers. She took off her high heels, each with the help of the opposite foot, graceful as a cat and started walking barefoot to one side, while attempting to tie her long flame-red hair in a pony-tail.

  Perry lunged toward her, lighting his whip aflame and swinging it towards her tall, slender throat. The vampire, whipped her head backwards as if the whip was standing still instead of travelling faster than the eye could follow and the flame from the weapon started flowing harmlessly towards a gem in her wrist. Perry made a sudden movement to draw his weapon back, extinguishing the flame in the process so as not to waste his energy.

  The big, blonde vampire launched forward like a speeding cannonball and set a course straight for Perry who had just launched another attack at the woman, and would be in a worse position to defend himself.

  Rob propelled himself forward as well, positioning himself between the two men and swinging his mace horizontally towards the vampire, which stopped its advance, took a single step sideways and started moving in a circular motion, making Rob move with him as well in order to keep him within sight and away from his flank; which was difficult since Rob did not want the vampire to be able to flank Perry who was currently locked in battle with the woman either.

  “You escaped me last time Robert. You ran away. I trust we won’t have the same problem this time though.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself ugly.”

  “It’s Ulrik, not that it matters. The shield seems a bit heavy, can you really afford to get any slower?”

  “It’s a good workout for the shoulders at first, but you get used to it after a couple of decades. It’s as if I am not holding it at all.” It certainly didn’t though.

  The vampire took a single large fast step and swung his axe. Rob could do nothing else other than catch the blow on his shield, which he did. There was a heavy thudding sound and the weight of the blow drove him back half a step, and then another came, and another and Rob pushed the last blow aside and swung his own weapon at Ulrik’s face. The vampire leaned backwards, avoiding it and kicked Rob at the chest, a blow that put him off balance, but Rob swung his shield and struck a glancing blow at the outside vampire’s knee, bending it slightly in an awkward angle. ‘No matter how much pain you are in, always try to retaliate a blow. Give nothing for free. Make them pay for their advances.’ Though Rob was more concerned with managing to keep up with the vampire rather than making him pay. There were sounds of gunshots and bullets suddenly started flying through the doors, the windows and the thick walls and Rob tried to employ his citrine but the pale yellow dome flowed towards Ulrik’s noctis gem like a bug to a lamp.

  Ulrik charged at the momentarily unbalanced Rob yet again but Perry’s whip got wrapped around his ankle and the vampire s
lipped and dropped to a knee, his hands that held his big axe lowering to the ground. Rob seized the chance that Perry had gifted him with and aimed another blow at Ulrik’s head. The hit connected to his right cheekbone, shattering it with a heavy crushing sound and tossing him to the floor; his skin almost instantly turning dark and puffy in the area. Rob pressed his advantage with a series of fast, precise blows, some connecting and some missing their target entirely. ‘I can’t even hit him when he is down dammit! Why?’

  Ulrik was fast and agile, but without a weapon. He tried to grab his axe off the floor and Rob shouted and dropped the rim of his shield on top of two fingers of his left hand, crushing them with an audible crunching sound. He lifted a boot to kick the vampire, but Ulrik grabbed the sole of his footwear with his right hand and pushed him backwards, putting his whole weight behind the throw, ending his advantage.

  Rob felt himself launching off the floor and then Ulrik was up and he was driving him into the ground through the sole of his shoe. Rob smashed his head against the floor, hard and saw a fleeting black screen passing through his vision. He shook it off and stood back up.

  Ulrik, his face covered in blood and two fingers badly misaligned, picked up the axe and swung at Rob that blocked with his shield. Ulrik then fell on Rob with his shoulder, driving him backwards and slamming him upon the driver’s door of the old white van that he had driven through the window. Rob thought that he could hear whimpers and cries coming from within it as his massive backside connected to its side and their collective mass threatened to tip it over, but he could not be certain or give it any more thought at all or it would probably be the last thing he ever did. Rob pushed Ulrik back. Ulrik struck at him again and Rob pivoted, evaded and struck him at the outside of his knee making him kneel to the floor. A stray bullet went through Rob’s right shoulder and he actually felt it grazing the bone; an unfortunate occurrence since if the vampire had not fallen to the ground, then the bullet would have stuck him instead of Rob.

  The unfortunate bullet would prohibited Rob from raising his mace fast enough to cave Ulrik’s skull in. Ulrik rose, striking Rob at the balls in the process with the butt of his axe. A blow that sent him spinning and seeing galaxies for more than a second. He fell backwards and almost on top of the female vampire who was locked in combat with Perry. She noticed and swung her rapier at his back. The first slash did nothing more than cut through the Kevlar, slide on the plate on the inside of the vest and bring him back to his senses. The vampire then made to skewer her sword through his neck, but Perry flicked his whip, managed to twist it around her wrist and stop her cold. Rob turned and landed a head-butt to her nose, a bad decision since the galaxies threatened to return; and Perry pulled on her with a tag of his whip, but not before she had managed to grab Rob by the collar of his vest. Both the Knight and the vampire got flung to the ground, beside the van, in front of the large shattered window and the torn down curtains from where the now plenty light shone through, illuminating the place.

  Bullets rained upon Rob from the courtyard and he lifted his shield to cover almost his entire body. He felt the bullets ricocheting upon it and he was practically locked in place since he did like the idea of a bullet cruising through his skull the same way it did through his painful, burning shoulder. The female vampire that had landed behind him struck a blow with her bare heel right at Rob’s nose, shattering it and Ulrik moved beside him as well. The big vampire tried to swing his axe down at Rob’s throat, opting to decapitate him, apparently thinking that he would be quicker than Perry. He wasn’t. The far smaller man lunged at the huge vampire, placed each of his hands underneath each of Ulrik’s massive thighs and struck him with enough speed and force to lift him off his feet into the air and slam him into the ground a couple of meters away from Rob. The shorter man climbed on top of the vampire’s chest, placing his knees on top of Ulrik’s arms, effectively immobilizing him for a brief second before he started pounding him on the head, neck and thorax with his bare fists, elbows and forehead.

  Rob tried to get up and go help Perry, even though it seemed as if he had it all under control, but strong hands grabbed him by the short hair on his head, and under his chin, and heaved him backwards in an arc, slamming him on the ground, both weapons escaping from his arms.

  31. PANIC

  Mark saw the van crushing through the tall window and armed men arriving close behind it. A lot more men than the five that had been guarding the place when they had first arrived. All of them following the straight line of destruction through the garden that the vehicle had left behind it. Each of them brandishing assault rifles that could collectively spit enough rounds to turn the mansion into an ode to Swiss cheese if need be, let alone overwhelm the two already straggling Knights.

  Mark placed the two children behind a tall bush and covered up their cold bodies better with their blankets.

  “Hide here, don’t make a sound. I’ll be back!” Mark told the anxious butler who took cover behind the large bush along with the children. He took the handgun from its holster on his thigh and held it up to the old man’s eye level. “Do you know how to use this?”

  “I do. Somewhat.”

  “Here, if anyone gets past me, or if something happens and they see you. Don’t hesitate. Here, safety off now. Aim and shoot. Head if they are close enough, groin if they are farther away, because they might be wearing vests.” The old man shook his head positively and ducked even lower behind the bush.

  Mark ran carefully so as not to be seen and with as much speed as he could muster to position himself almost parallel to the twisted line of the advancing men who had already started firing their weapons in short bursts whenever they found an opening.

  They were people, normal everyday people, and Mark hated what he was about to do. But they had made their choice, and that choice was a wrong one. He gathered his energy in the small dangling emerald that commenced its familiar trembling and sent a lance of force streaking through their lines, crushing upon the first man that encountered it, smashing his ribcage, lifting him off his feet and flinging him upon another couple of guys who toppled to the floor.

  Mark grabbed the 28 gauge Remington 870 pump action shotgun from his back with his right hand and sent three of the total of eight rounds in three separate shooters near him in rapid succession, putting a quick end to their lives, and feeling a bit of bile edging at the back of his throat with every pull of the trigger. He had been hunting and killing monsters actively on his own for two years now and he had never had this problem…maybe because he was used to defacing them. They were categorized in large heavy books with stats, numbers and preferred tactics next to their images or illustrations, they were the enemy. He had been listening to his teachers talk about them with professional coldness for sixteen long years and from an early age. It was not murder, it was not hunting, it was not exterminating…it was a job. Now that he was shooting humans, dispatching them to the afterlife with more ease than if he had been shooting fish in a barrel, he felt sick. The two of the three people that had been flung aside from his emerald’s force had not died, only injured, and they started getting back up on their feet, and Mark was standing right behind them. If they had been a small monster of the same size and strength as a human then Mark would have dispassionately crushed their skulls with his heavy boot or he would have slashed their throats with the sharp knife in his belt. He aimed the barrel of each of the men’s skulls, pumped a round in the chamber and pulled the trigger, all the while trying to hold his innards from climbing up through his hard pressed mouth.

  He saw a blur from the corner of his eye and he reacted instinctively, ducked and leaned to the left and a huge sword slashed past him. Grazing the whole front right side of his cheek that was not covered by the big hood of Rob’s duster, and drawing rivers of blood that spattered to the already red, trampled and broken blades of grass on the ground. He fell and rolled, rose to one knee and shot to the space where his attacker had been. He missed. He pumped and shot a
nd pumped and shot, moving backwards while following the blur of movement and anticipating his attacker’s path, aiming for the head; each and every time he missed a direct hit, but there were clanging sounds of metal connecting on metal with every pull of the trigger.

  Mark saw the long piece of metal arcing upwards towards him and he used the shotgun to block. The vampire kept on pressing with hit after hit until Mark’s shotgun broke in half and he dropped it to the ground. ‘Fucking great. I hoped to avoid a melee if it was possible. A longshot for sure, but this guy has a freaking claymore of all things!’

  Mark ducked, and strafed, and twisted and slashes slid cleanly upon the citrine armor of the duster that had undeniably saved a limb from falling off at least a couple of times already. He jumped in the air, retreating and collected an amount of energy into his emerald once more. He let the blast launch from his painful fingertips towards the feet of the vampire. The blast launched him further up in the air and further away from his enemy, giving him enough time to reach for his brass knuckles in his pockets, which was his main concern. The transparent greenish force changed direction a little while before landing on its target and redirected into the noctis gem on the vampire’s wrist. ‘Well... hope dies last. But it had just been murdered on that front.’

  Mark had landed perilously close to the spot where the children and the old man were hiding. He had not realized when the only thoughts in his mind consisted of dodging and getting away from his enemy. And Mark could hear whimpering sounds coming from behind the bush.

  Mark did not want to do it, he was afraid and very pessimistic about the outcome, but there are times when one must fully accept their responsibilities and own up to them. He charged against all his instincts towards the oncoming vampire with the black skin and the long, heavy sword. The claymore came down at him quick as a falcon diving for a mouse. He sidestepped and the blow struck him at the shoulder. It hurt, a lot, but the citrine armor held and absorbed most of the impact. He ignored the pain and landed a series of fast, heavy blows on the creature’s stomach, thudding sounds of metal on metal echoing with each hit. The monster was wearing armor. ‘Fucking great!’ Mark shifted his leg and twisted his whole body and landed an almost perfect cross at the monster’s unprotected jaw. There was a crushing sound and the vampire’s head shook with the impact.