Dark Humanity

by Gwynn White

  With the slightest twitch of Xavier’s fingers, the doll stretched and yawned, each joint moving perfectly. He truly was masterful with the toy. Brom waved goodbye, then curled up at Viola’s feet, sleepy eyelids fluttering shut. The nearly invisible strands seemed to melt away on their own. She gave a return wave, looking sad to see him go.

  “He’ll visit you again in the morning,” Xavier promised, placing Brom back in his bag. She nodded, grinning eagerly. “Until then, Brom and I bid you goodnight.” He took the bag back to his horse, then slipped into his bedroll near the fire.

  “He is a friendly lad, is he not?” said Liam, giving her a start. She didn’t know how long he had been standing there, and only just realized she had been staring at Xavier this entire time. She wasn’t even sure if she was capable of blushing, but her face certainly felt hot all of sudden.

  “He’s nice,” she whispered in reply, suddenly unable to meet Liam’s eyes.

  The mystic pressed his lips together, trying to disguise his knowing grin. “Come now. It’s time to get some sleep.”

  Moonlight crept through the tiny rips and tears in the canvas above. Unusually bright tonight, the soft beams seemed to illuminate the inside of the wagon. Tucked beneath a blue woolen blanket, Viola trembled in her sleep. Beads of sweat spotted her forehead, her rapid panting moving the blanket in a pulsing rhythm.

  With a gasp she bolted upright, red eyes flaring wide open. Her damp clothes clung to her body, the back of her neck covered with sweat. Still breathing hard, she glanced at Liam lying beside her. Wrapped in a blanket of his own, the old man continued to snore peacefully.

  Still trembling, she wiped the cold sweat from her neck, then slid out the back side of the wagon. What was wrong? Why couldn’t she stop shaking and sweating? Her vision was blurred, everything around her appearing in black and white. She was so thirsty, but the thought of water made her stomach queasy.

  Swaying drunkenly, she stumbled away from the camp. Her chest clenched with tightness. It was more like discomfort than actual pain. An insatiable craving that couldn’t be satisfied. Unexplainable, like body craving more air even as it continued to breath. She didn’t even know where she was going, only that she needed to get there soon. Her heart thumped in her throat, each beat a mighty thud echoing in her ears.

  Branches and leaves swiped her face as she stumbled along recklessly, hardly noticing the minor cuts adding up. Feet shuffling along, her toe struck a tree root, sending her skidding face first across the leaves and dirt. Leaves stuck to her face and hair, she looked up. Growling, a young wolf stood only a few feet away. Its muzzle crinkled up, baring its sharp teeth. A long, low rumble escaped its throat, yellow eyes locked with hers. She got to her knees, staring back with a blank expression.

  A shrill howl off in the distance woke Liam from his slumber. He sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The man was no stranger to the sounds of the woods, but feared Viola might have been startled by such a thing. When he looked to see if her sleep had been disturbed, she was nowhere to be seen. A second howl rang out, far more strangled than the first. The obvious sounds of an animal fight followed: growling, snapping, and finally a series of high-pitched yelps.

  He slid from the back of the wagon, fear gripping his chest. “Viola!” he called out, moving through the camp. “Where are you, dear? Answer me!” In a flash, Owen and Xavier were at his side.

  “What’s going on?” Owen asked, head darting this way and that.

  “Do you not hear that?” Liam asked, only now realizing that the savage sounds had stopped. There was only silence now.

  “I heard something a moment ago,” Owen replied. “Sounded like dogs fighting.” He looked Liam up and down, then glanced towards the wagon. “Where is the girl?”

  “That is what I intend to find out,” Liam said, before rushing back to the wagon to retrieve his staff. Once he had it, he stormed off in the direction of the disturbance but only made it a few feet before stopping. Moving slowly, a shadowy figure walked towards the camp. It was Viola, head down with her white hair draped over her face.

  “Viola?” Liam said, watching her curiously. “My dear, is everything all right?” She drew closer step by step. “Are you hurt? Say something.”

  Owen began laughing, shaking Xavier by the shoulder. “I saw the way you were looking at her, boy,” he said tauntingly. “Well, take a close look at her now!”

  Tears dripped down onto her shirt as she began to weep, the combination of shame and fear overwhelming her. Rubbing at her eyes, she lifted just enough hair to expose her bloodstained face. “I couldn’t control myself,” she whimpered, managing enough courage to glance up at Xavier. “I didn’t mean to—” He met her eyes briefly, then turned away in disgust. He may as well have stabbed her in the heart with a blade. Crushed by his reaction, her weeping intensified, both hands covering her face in shame.

  “I said look at her!” Owen demanded, forcing Xavier’s head back towards her direction. Xavier opened his eyes, again gazing into that bloodstained face. “Take a long look, and don’t ever forget what you saw here today. Make no mistake, she is little more than a wild animal. Had she not found a creature to feed on, it would have been you!”

  “Never!” she shrieked in protest, a hissing screech that seemed to come from everywhere at once. Owen paused, unsettled by the eerie way her voice echoed around like that. It was like she was all around him at once.

  “Of course you would say that,” said Owen, pushing Xavier aside while moving up close to her. She shied away, backing up a step. “I distinctly heard a wolf cry out with his last dying breath,” he growled. “So what was it like? You know, killing an innocent creature of the woods?” She covered her ears, shaking her head.

  “Enough,” Liam interrupted. “This solves nothing.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet the blood was sweet,” Owen continued, ignoring Liam’s protest as he moved in close to her ear. “Ah, but not as sweet as the blood of a human. That’s what you truly crave!”

  “I said enough!” Liam repeated, rushing at Owen.

  There came a blur from the corner of Liam’s eye, and cold steel was suddenly pressed against his neck. “Do not interfere or you shall force my hand,” Xavier whispered in a voice too soft and youthful to belong to such an efficient killer. Liam barely had time to register the speed of the young man. In a flash he was just...there.

  “Bah,” Owen grumbled, turning away from Viola. Xavier stepped back, his dagger slipping back into his sleeve. Heading back towards his bedroll, the hunter gave Liam a hard nudge as he passed. “Don’t blame me when she kills you in your sleep,” he muttered. “You already knew what she was.” Like nothing had happened, he slipped back into his bedroll and appeared to fall right back to sleep.

  With a fatherly gesture, Liam wrapped his arm around Viola’s shoulder. “Come now. Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said tenderly. He could only imagine the trauma she had just experienced, giving in to a savage craving she couldn’t control. Still weeping softly, she let herself be led away. She could feel Xavier’s eyes on her, but refused to look back. “Don’t listen to anything he says,” Liam said, rubbing her shoulder assuredly. “He is a cold-blooded mercenary who kills for money, not exactly the sort whose opinion I deem to be trustworthy.”

  When they neared the wagon, she leaned back to resist going any further. He regarded her questioningly. “Viola, we have a long day tomorrow, and I don’t need you being difficult right now. As I already said, I need to get you cleaned up so we can get some rest.” He looked to the east, the black of night giving ground to the first signs of an orange horizon. “Daylight is almost upon us.”

  “I don’t want you trapped in there with me,” she said. “What if...something…happens? I couldn’t live with myself if I...hurt you.”

  Liam sighed, leaning against the corner of the wagon. “I asked you once before if you trusted me, remember? And you assured me that you do.” She nodded. “Then I expect you to take me at my word
. I promise you that nothing is going to happen. Now, I need you to say the words. Tell me you believe me.”

  “I believe you,” she squeaked.

  “Good,” he replied. “Now, we shall talk in the morning. We’re going to figure all this out.” The two of them climbed into the wagon. After dampening a rag with the contents of a water skin, he scrubbed the drying blood from her face. When the job was finished, they both crawled under their blankets to try and salvage what was left of the night.

  Liam found it hard to go back to sleep. Not because he was concerned for his own safety, but because he had meant it when he told Viola they would need to talk in the morning. She had the right to know the origins of her bloodlines, and this talk was long overdue. But how to approach such a thing? How could one so innocent and childlike be spawned from such evil seeds?

  Eyes wide open, he lay there trying not to think about it. And of course, it soon became the only thing he could think about.

  Liam woke to the crackling of a bonfire. He must have dozed off within the past half hour or so. He glanced at Viola briefly, her blanket rising and falling with the steady breathing of deep sleep. Deciding not to wake her just yet, he grabbed a change of clothes from his bag and quietly slid out the back.

  The other two were sitting near the fire, each rotating a piece of meat on separate metal pokers. Silently, Liam walked over to join them. Both looked dressed and ready for travel, the hunter wearing his full battle suit, double crossbows mounted at the back of his shoulders. Taking a seat, the mystic stared at the fire for a long while before speaking. “When she wakes, I will tell Viola what we know of her origin,” he said bluntly. “She must face the truth, and then we must all decide how to deal with it.”

  Owen pulled his meat from the fire, rotating it under his nose as if considering whether or not it was done. “Did you hear what I just said?” Liam asked. “Are we going to just keep pretending she is not a danger to herself as well as others? If we do not address this soon, it threatens to tear our group apart.”

  Owen took a careful bite, eyes wandering upward while considering if he should cook it longer. “Ever stop to think that she may already have the answers we seek, old man?” he asked calmly.

  “What do you mean?” Liam asked.

  “She is not exactly a newborn,” Owen explained, glaring at his meat, now having second thoughts about its doneness. “There is no way she could have remained hidden for this long unless her affliction had somehow been controlled. I mean, she hasn’t exactly been feeding on human blood for nineteen years. Hell, she seemed so unsettled last night, I’m actually suspicious as to whether or not she’s ever killed a living creature. I’m betting that was her first.”

  “I believe you are correct,” Liam agreed, snapping his fingers.

  “Aye. So before you try explaining to her that she be a natural-born killer, maybe you should ask her how she’s kept it in check for so long,” Owen said, jamming his stick back over the fire. Xavier just listened in silence, hood pulled low over his face.

  “I’ll go wake her. The four of us are going to figure this out right now,” Liam replied, already standing to go get her. Suddenly, Xavier leapt to his feet, hands slipping underneath the back of his cloak. “What? What is it?” said Liam, eyes scanning the tree line for whatever had drawn the apprentice’s attention.

  “Wake the girl,” he replied, eyes staring off in the distance. “We have to go. Now!”

  Liam bolted towards the wagon calling to her, but Owen didn’t move a muscle. He tore away another bite of his meat, then threw the rest into the fire. “It’s too late,” he grumbled, Xavier glancing in his direction. “They be here already here.”

  “Viola!” said Liam, giving her a harsh shake.

  Disoriented, she sat upright, head twisting this way and that. “Wha-What’s going on?” she asked, trying to get her bearings.

  “I’m not sure,” Liam admitted, snatching his staff before taking her by the hand. “We have to get out of here. Leave your things. We’ll come back for them if we can. Now come on!”

  He hopped out first before helping her down. What began as a dead run towards the others quickly slowed to a light jog. Liam didn’t like the look of this. If there was trouble nearby, why were the other two just standing near the campfire? With Viola by the hand, his staff clenched in the other, he approached them cautiously.

  “Why aren’t we going?” Liam asked. Stoically, the other two just stood there in silence.

  There came a blur of movement from the tree line. In a flash, a tall figure stood before them. With a ghostly white appearance, his eyes were red and his lips black as night. Large ears rose into points on the side of his bald head, and his face appeared compressed, eyes squeezed down near his nose. Several more blurs flashed into the camp, each moving with impossible speed. Before they knew it they were surrounded. At least a dozen stood strong, and who knew how many others lay in wait.

  Had Liam seen these mystical creatures even a week ago, he wouldn’t have known for certain what they were. Such beasts were thought to have gone extinct long ago, and little was known of them even then. It was only due to his recent research that the image of these vile creatures was fresh in his mind, if only through literary descriptions and crude drawings. These were full-blooded laberaths!

  Grinning wickedly, the first began clapping his hands, a slow, taunting beat as he glared at Owen. “Orm’rak is impressed, human,” he said with one last loud clap for emphasis. “We trust it wasn’t too hard to acquire the girl?” Owen said nothing, his blank eyes staring right through the creature.

  Clutching Liam’s shirt in fear, Viola looked up for an instant, hate-filled eyes landing on Owen. “You betrayed me,” she hissed, her shadowy voice echoing in all directions.

  “So these are the friends you spoke of,” Liam accused. Viola buried her face in his shirt once more, arms clutching him tightly. Seething, he turned his attention on the laberath. “I don’t know what deal you and the hunter have, but she will not be leaving with you.” Gently pushing Viola aside, he stepped in front of her, hand fingering the blade at his side. “You shall return to your master empty handed, or stay here and perish at my hand. I leave the choice up to you.”

  Ignoring what he perceived to be an idle threat from an inept human, the laberath turned his attention back to the hunter as the others laughed. He tossed a black pouch at Owen’s feet. When it landed, what looked to be tiny cut diamonds scattered across the ground. “Your payment as agreed,” he said. “Now, we’ll just take what’s ours and be on our wa—”

  Owen kicked the bag, sending it tumbling back towards the laberath, clear jewels scattering in all directions. Too small to detect, a fortune’s worth of gems now lay hopelessly scattered among the tall grass. “I see you failed to deliver my last message,” Owen growled, gaze sweeping across their ghost-white faces. “Perhaps your severed heads in a box will make my point more clear.”

  Hands hidden beneath his cloak, Xavier watched the tense standoff unfold, his senses on high alert. He and his master had worked on silent communication extensively in the past, and now they needed to get on the same page. He watched Owen carefully without openly staring, waiting for one of the many signs they had worked on with tireless repetition. Hands fingering his hidden blades, he waited...waited... In a movement so subtle only his trained eyes could have ever seen it, the hunter tapped his right heel twice.

  Xavier’s grip on his blades loosened, and with all the speed he could muster, he charged Liam and Viola, knocking them to the ground. He lay on Viola, keeping her pinned down.

  In one smooth motion, the hunter rolled his shoulders, both crossbows clicking down his arms, locking around his wrists. With a roar, he swept his arms across the laberaths, his weapons unleashing a flurry of energy projectiles firing at a staggering rate.

  The sound was thunderous, blinding orange flashes consuming the area in a flickering light show. Trees splintered into nothing, the ground itself churning up a
s the violent energy assault peppered the soil. Laberaths caught in the onslaught were shredded, their bodies tearing into unrecognizable strips of flesh long before the first drop of blood ever touched the ground. But their speed was virtually unmatched, and many still managed to evade, blurs of movement scattering about.

  “Get off me!” Viola shrieked above the weapons’ deafening sounds. She squirmed and pushed back, even trying to bite Xavier. Liam lay only a few feet away, face down, hands covering his head as energy bolts sprayed all around. “I trusted you!” she cried, fists pounding up at his chest. Xavier grasped her wrists, easily turning her back onto her stomach. With a sudden pressure on the back of her neck, her face went down hard into the soil. Gasping a last breath, she stopped her futile struggling against the much-stronger assassin and closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable blade that was sure to sink into her back. “I hate you,” she whispered, figuring those would be her final words.

  She felt something click against the back of her neck. The collar snapped open, the two sections falling on either side of her head. She felt his breath as he moved close to her ear. “I swear I didn’t know,” he said. “Run. You have to get out of here!” He rolled off her back, allowing her to get up. She watched him rush away, a wheeled blade flashing in each hand. She glanced at Liam, the old man rising up from the ground.

  “They’re after you,” he yelled, staff twirling in his hands. “We’ll hold them off as long as we can. Go!” He, too, rushed past her, streaking headlong into the fight. With the collar off, she felt her energy returning, legs responsive and nimble once more. Driven by terror, she bolted away into the forest.

  Owen’s crossbows ceased, tiny rotors winding down with a slowing ticking sound. An orange gem ejected from each. Their energy spent, the steaming jewels bounced along the hard ground. The hunter rolled his shoulders back, prompting the weapons to ride back up his arms with a clacking sound, reseating themselves at the rear of his shoulders. With a rasping hiss, he slid two silver blades from his back.