“It was fifteen.” Slade told Jane smugly.
“Yeah, but a couple of them were mine.” She watched Fang with deepening concern. “Can he --like-- sniff us out or something?”
“Only in his wolf form. When he shape-shifts, he possesses heightened senses.”
She looked up at the sky. “Does he need a full moon?”
“No, of course not.” The woman clearly knew nothing of Werewolves. “Just the night. He will not change in front of his men, though. The transition leaves him vulnerable for several moments.”
“I can find him, sire.” One of the other Satyr Brothers interjected. “King Slade couldn’t have gone far off the path…”
Fang cut him off. “Slade?” He echoed, his eyes narrowing into slits. “The Vampire is named Slade?”
“King Slade. He repeated it about fifty times.” Cal or Hal muttered. “We found him in the Drunken Dragon Tavern, rambling about how he was going to take over the kingdom. The dude’s a weirdo. If we just wait a few hours, it will be sunrise and he’ll have to…”
“Find him!” Fang roared, whirling back to his men. “I don’t care what it takes, you find Slade and you bring him to me! Now!”
“I think he remembers you.” Jane muttered. “Only people who’ve met you can get that pissed.” She tugged on his sleeve. “We should go.”
Slade hated retreat, but she had a point. Without the Silver Sword, he could not yet kill Fang and staying here longer would endanger Jane. This was a war, not a single battle. “Head into the woods.” He couldn’t stop himself from running a hand over her amazing toffee-colored hair. “I’m right behind you.”
“Good. Then, you can take the first hail of bullets as they chase after us. Or arrows or whatever the hell they use in this dump.” She headed through the forest, her ponytail bouncing.
No one followed them.
The Endless Woods were a vast place and they no longer had the path to guide them. It became a maze of trees. Slade and Jane walked ceaselessly without seeing anything but strange looking foliage. Sometimes he thought they’d passed the same area several times, but he couldn’t be sure. Even his Vampiric senses were affected by the woods. He didn’t know which direction they were traveling in.
Hours passed. Slade watched the shadows move across the undergrowth, gauging the time. The unidentified Satyr Brother had been correct about the dawn. It was approaching far too quickly. Vampires couldn’t be in the daylight for more than a few moments without burning to cinders. Slade was going to need to find shelter soon.
“Would this be a bad time to tell you that we weren’t supposed to leave the path?” Jane batted aside a branch with leaves that spilled down like cooked pasta. “I think that’s why we got away so easily. No one else was dumb enough to come in here.”
“You mean no one else was brave enough.”
“No, I mean dumb. Tegan said these woods are dangerous. That it’s impossible to find your way without the trail.”
“A Vampire can find his way through any amount of danger.”
“Can you find your way through any amount of trees? Because, that would be awesome.”
Slade disregarded her snarking. As leader of their quest, it was up to him to keep up morale. “My Grandmother is one of the universe’s greatest warriors and prophets.” He announced.
Jane did not seem inspired. “You mean the cat lady grandma?”
“Yes. Granted, Dawnyah-Zanabriah is a shape shifter from beyond the stars and not a biological Vampire, she fears nothing and this aids her in her endless string of victories. We must follow her example and press onward.”
“Didn’t she help exile you from your island? If we’re following her example, the getting rid of you part is what I’d like to emulate.” Jane arched a brow. “Hey, what made her side with Melessa in the break-up, anyhow? I mean aside from the fact that everyone who’s ever met you seems to hate your guts.”
“I do not know.” Just thinking about Grandma Dawn’s unexpected betrayal irritated him. Why had she sided with Melessa? The question triggered all his secret doubts. Slade tried hard to be a worthy king, but he always seemed to fall short. “And barely anyone hates my guts.” He muttered, although he wasn’t sure that was true. “Most people adore me.”
“Which is why we’re on the run from all your many admirers.”
The woman was difficult to motivate. Slade cast around for another was to boost Jane’s spirits and to change the subject. Discussing his lack of popularity depressed him. More importantly, dwelling on the fact that everyone else had left him might encourage Jane to leave, too. That was the last thing he wanted.
“So… Do you happen to have any anti-Werewolf talismans on you?” He ventured. It seemed like a far safer topic.
Jane fixed him with a flat look. “Shit.” She deadpanned. “They’re all in my other wizard’s hat.”
Slade took that as a “no.” “You really should not leave your home without the proper talismans, Jane. They are as imperative as shoes and swords.” He unfastened his silver bracelet and held it out to her. The treasury of the Vampire Isle held untold riches, but this piece was the one he always wore. It hadn’t left his wrist in over a century. “Here. You will wear this.”
Jane wrinkled her nose at the elaborate piece of jewelry. Thick links were hammered together, covered with engravings of dead Wolves and triumphant Vampires. “It’s hideous.” She announced.
“It’s an amulet to repel Werewolves. It is not meant to be pretty.” Since she didn’t seem eager to put it on, Slade did it for her. The massive chain was big on her hand, but he felt a jolt of unexpected pleasure at the sight of it on her arm.
Jane seemed less delighted. She glowered down at the bracelet and then at him. “Whatever.” She grumbled.
…But she didn’t take it off.
Slade found himself smiling. Knowing Jane Squire, she would’ve thrown the talisman into the weeds if she didn’t secretly like his gift. Maybe she sensed the same thing Slade did: The bracelet belonged to her. In an odd way, he felt as if he’d been wearing it for so long because he’d been waiting for this moment. Waiting to give it to her. Waiting for her.
“That bracelet was given to me by the Merpeople of the Hidden Lake.” He said proudly.
“Merepeople of the Hidden Lake?” She echoed. “Jesus. Your autobiography must read like a NeverEnding Story fan-fic. Especially, the never ending part.”
Slade wasn’t sure what that meant, but he doubted it was a compliment. “My epic tale is all true.” He insisted, seeing her doubt. “The Merpeople are an enchanted race. Few ever look upon them, but they do exist.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so. You see, I had defeated a legion of monstrous bats, which had been sweeping in and picking off their young. The Merpeople bestowed that amulet upon me as a symbol of their thanks.” He paused. “They also offered me my choice of their most beautiful women as my bride.”
“How thoughtful.”
“Of course, I turned them down. I was awaiting my Eternal-One. Not even a topless Mermaid could tempt me to marry another.” He grunted at how stupid he’d been. “Had I known Melessa was the destined bride awaiting me, I surely would have accepted the comely Mermaid and enjoyed her underwater agility.”
“Look, I’m sobering up and it’s hurting my head to listen to your weird stories, so…”
Something moved in the thick brush beside them, cutting her off. Before Slade could call warning to Jane, they were surrounded by a dozen warriors in green camouflage. Not that a warning much mattered. Armed with wooden spears and slingshots, they weren’t a particularly intimidating force.
“What the hell is this now?” Jane demanded. “Frigging Ewoks?”
“Are you free citizens of this land or slaves to that bastard Fang?” One of the men demanded, waving his homemade weapon around like a flyswatter.
“Surrender or die!” Another one squawked in a voice that would’ve been more threatening if it was three o
ctaves deeper and not shaking in terror.
Jane rolled her eyes towards the heavens. “Tell me these twerps aren’t the rebels.”
Slade smiled over at her. “Splendid news, Jane. We’ve found my army.”
Chapter Five
BACKGROUND NOTES ON THE REBELS’ MOTIVATIONS
The rebels are motivated by various stuff. Probably. And other stuff. And lots of assorted whatever.
Seriously, this part is a waste of time.
These nobodies probably want something, but does anybody really care about what it is? They’re just supposed to be the dead bodies on the battlefield that Fang steps over to show us what a badass he is. It’s not like they actually matter. In fact, we should probably just skip all their whining and do this whole next part as a training montage.
Or a musical number!
Redrafted Film Script- “From Here to Infinia”
Apparently, From Here to Infinia had some kind of “innovative soundtrack” thing going on. A minstrel-y version of We’re Not Gonna Take It blared as Slade and Jane were led into the rebel village. Even Dracula, Ph.D. had more dignity than this crappy film. Also, the plot made more sense. And the sets were better.
The rebels’ secret forest hideout looked exactly like filmdom’s secret forest hideouts always looked. Lots of little huts with straw roofs and wooden walkways spanning the trees. From Here to Infinia had plagiarized the backlot from every Robin Hood movie ever made. And --of course-- the second-rate Merry Men clones populating the unimaginative village were dirty, supernatural looking, and liked jabbing pointy sticks at Slade and Jane.
It was seriously pissing her off.
The Vampire genius beside her didn’t seem to notice that anything was amiss. Slade smiled broadly, walking through the village like he owned every tree. Probably because he thought he did. “Greetings, peasants.” He stopped in the center of Jungleville and looked around. “Be at ease. I have come to lead you.”
That was sure to win them over.
“We have no leader here.” One brave soul piped up. “Not yet, anyway.”
It was hard to tell which of the rebels was talking. Extras were always pretty faceless. Jane knew that firsthand. She’d been an Under-Five most of her career. For some reason the lack of respect for her fellow day players suddenly annoyed her. Couldn’t From Here to Infinia at least focus on the kid talking? Didn’t everyone deserve some of the spotlight?
“We are awaiting someone strong enough to take charge of our glorious mission to defeat Fang.” Some other random villager added. Or possibly it was the same guy. It was impossible to be sure. “He will be our leader.”
“Well, your long wait is over.” Prince Valiant assured the huddled mass of nonspeaking parts. “I have arrived.” He posed with his hands heroically planted on his hips. “I am Slade, King of the Vampires and this is my second-in-command, Jane Squire. We shall guide you to victory.”
Jane rolled her eyes as the rebels all turned to look at her. “Hi, how are ya?” She muttered and leaned closer to Slade. “We have to get out of here before they eat us or something.” She whispered fiercely. “I think that kid over there was in Deliverance. Trust me, From Here to Infinia is bad enough. You don’t want to wander into Deliverance.”
Banjo kid smirked at her.
“Worry not, Jane.” Slade surveyed the rebels with the same confidence the captain of the Titanic must have felt just before that iceberg attacked. “I know how to inspire troops.”
“Oh obviously. That’s why you’re still ruling the Vampire Isle.”
He slanted her an irritated look.
Jane almost smiled. It was probably the horror of the situation affecting her mind, but Slade was cute when he glowered. Hell, he was always cute. If she was stuck in this Alan Smithee nightmare at least she had someone pretty to look at. Someone who wasn’t that horrible to be around, all things considered.
Jane was a loner by nature, but Slade’s presence wasn’t quite as suffocating as she would’ve thought. Even when he was irritating her, he was still kind of amusing. And it was nice to have somebody to talk to, for a change.
Sometimes, her life got a little lonely. Jane could admit that. Being independent was safer, but it meant she lived with a lot of silence. There was no such thing as silence when Slade was around. In fact, Jane hadn’t felt lonely even once since she’d met the King of the Vampires. He was always very, very there. Talking, and smiling, and taking up space with his shininess.
And she’d never had anyone pay so much attention to her before. Not ever. At first, she’d assumed Slade watched everybody with the same level of interest he aimed at her, but… he didn’t. The longer she was with him, the more Jane saw that it was just her he focused on with an off-the-scales amount of glowing blue concentration. Like she was important to him. It was sort of disconcerting. Jane wasn’t used to that kind of intensity being aimed her way. She was supposed to be a background character and Slade was born to be the star. Didn’t he understand that?
“How do we know he’s not spy for the Werewolf?” A token woman rebel demanded. Every fantasy movie needed some poor girl dressed in a fur bikini, after all. “Fang will stop at nothing to crush us. We all know that. I stood against him and he killed my parents in retaliation. He kills the bakers who smuggle us bread and the barkeeps who sent us mead. He even kills the priests who bury the victims he slaughters. Would he stop at sending a Vampire into our midst?”
“He refused to let my fiancée marry me.” Someone else called. “Instead, he took her for himself and then threw her from roof of the Obsidian Fortress when she resisted.”
“Fang burned my house down, with all my children inside.” Another man agreed. “He locked the door and lit the match, with a smile on his face. His men held me back as my babies screamed for me.”
Holy shit.
Jane looked around as more rebels shouted out their Werewolf horror stories. Tears and anger and terrible blank expressions filled the crowd. As ridiculous as From Here to Infinia was, the people here actually felt the suffering Fang inflicted on them. Their anguish was genuine.
For the first time, Jane realized that this place was real. It wasn’t just a film. Fang was actually torturing people. Real people. And he was so powerful that no one in this whole kingdom could stop him.
Except…
Her gaze very slowly traveled over to Slade. Back in reality, the idea of a hero was complete bullshit. She believed that with every pragmatic bone in her body. But, when she looked at this big, shiny Vampire, it was very hard to remember that logic even existed.
“I am not in league with Fang.” Slade said, his eyes on the rebels. “I will kill him and save Infinia. I am meant to be king of this land and you are meant to follow me.”
“If you seek to lead us, then you must prove your worth.” A guy with feathers interjected. Fifteen hours in makeup and this was probably his only line in the film. “You must enter… The Cage.” He swept a wing towards a large enclosure that seemed to be constructed out of crisscrossed tree limbs and human skulls. “You must defeat ten of our bravest warriors at once.”
“Eleven men enter. One man leaves.” The crowd obediently chanted.
Oh Jesus. They were ripping-off Beyond Thunderdome. That was just the final straw. Technically, Infinia might be real, but it was also a pain in the ass.
“No.” Jane snapped, grabbing hold of Slade’s arm before he could agree to this lunacy. “Don’t even think about it. Yeah, fine, Mad Max-era Mel Gibson was hot, but all remakes suck. It’s like a law. You can’t get in that cage and beat up ten men.”
Slade scoffed at that. “Of course I can. Look how small they are.”
The man was unbelievable. “Someone will get seriously hurt, Slade!”
“Well, unless they possess a blue diamond blade, that ‘someone’ will not be me.” He arched a brow, when Jane blinked at him. “Have I not explained that Vampires are quite hardy? Only enchanted blue diamonds can kill us in a fight. The weap
ons can cut through magicks, but they are rare and expensive for peasants to buy, so there is no need to be concerned for me.”
“I’m not concerned for you, idiot.” She waved aside the Vampire biology lesson. “My point is, reenacting Battle Royale is a terrible way to win support for your cause. If you want the rebels on your side, you can’t get their loyalty through force. Aren’t you listening to their stories? They’ve seen enough bloodshed.”
They hadn’t, however, seen enough singing.
To Jane’s horror, at least half of the assembled rebels launched into an elaborate dance routine. Even Slade’s eyebrows soared as they spun around in complicated choreographed kick lines, flipping and sweeping through the forest. Yeah… definitely the “innovative soundtrack” thing. The song was a ridiculously modern pop confection about their rage towards the cage in an age of drage. What the fuck was “drage?” Were they just making up words now?
She shook her head in utter disgust and glared up Slade. “Great. Now we’re in a musical number. You see what you did?”
“I did not cause this! I merely wanted to prove my valor by killing some warriors. How else will they be convinced to follow me?”
“Why don’t you try talking to them? It would certainly beat the singing, don’t you think?”
Slade seemed confused by the idea. “Talking?”
“Yes! Explain why you’re a better choice for monarch than the Werewolf. How hard could that be? They already detest Fang and you’re,” she waved a hand up and down Slade’s perfect form, “you. Go campaign for the job, like a normal person.”
“I do not know how to campaign to peasants.” He shifted out of the way of a breakdancing Gremlin, looking doubtful about this whole idea. “I have never had to convince anyone to follow me before. They just did it. I was born with a crown and they respected my exalted position. That is the system I prefer.”
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