Fledgling (The Vampire Manifesto, Book Two)

by Rashaad Bell

  “Uh…” The young one looked at the others. “…because there are three of us?”

  The middle-aged one looked towards the female. “I thought you said the synthetic blood plasma you whipped up was going to heal her?”

  “Well she’s up isn’t she?” The female defended. “Her back was completely shattered when they brought her in here, so that’s progress.”

  “But her mental facilities seem…” The young one paused. “…in question.”

  They were babbling nonsense and yet, when I stretched, there was no pain in my back whatsoever. It was as good as new.

  I began searching; scanning the room I was in. “Where are my friends?”

  “You were the only one they brought to us.” The female said. “They could be anywhere.”

  “Why do you all look like John Rogers?” I asked.

  Now all three of them drew back, throwing questioning glances among each other.

  “You know me?” They pretty much said in unison.

  It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone gone bad. “John Rogers? Chaos equation? Time travel? Any of this ringing any bells?”

  “Yeah it is.” The female stated.

  “And when did you become a hot chick?” I asked.

  The younger one hit the middle-aged one on the arm. “See, I told you she was cute.”

  This was too bizarre. “Do any of you know who I am?”

  The looked amongst each other.

  “No.” Proclaimed the middle aged one.

  Of course they didn’t. “Why is it that every time I encounter you, it’s always some iteration that doesn’t know who I am?”

  “How many times have you met me?” The young one asked. “Met us, I mean.”

  “Not counting today?” I replied. “Twice.”

  “How old was I?” The middle aged one enquired.

  I started to walk around the lab, which gave off a very steam punk vibe. “The first time, I’d say around twenty-nine or thirty.” I picked up an eclectic looking device, which the young one promptly removed from my hand. “The second time, hmm, I’m not sure, eighty maybe?”

  “But I was still a man right?” The middle aged one asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Then she should remember this.” The young one said.

  The middle-aged one looked at the female. “Yeah, why don’t you remember this?”

  “Oh no.” She glanced at the others. “This is bad guys. Really, really bad.”

  Something resting on the bookshelf caught my eye and I walked over to it. It was a statue of a man and woman. It looked so pretty and when the light reflected off it, the statue seemed to sparkle as if it was not limestone but crystal. Underneath it on the shelf below was a long rectangular case that took up the entire shelf.

  “What is she doing?” The middle aged one asked.

  When I touched it, the top part of the case slid open and I peered inside. That’s when I saw it. I reached down and pulled it out, not believing my own eyes, thinking that I was surely dreaming, because what I held was what dreams were made of.

  In my hand was the Blade of Osiris.

  I turned it around, admiring the artistry, the sleek nature of the weapon. It was completely obsidian, as if carved from volcanic rock, yet the handle was fashioned in the way that it felt secure in my palm and would not slip free. It was no longer then a bayonet, yet when I thought in my mind that it could be bigger, the Blade actually extended in length, becoming the size of a broadsword.

  “Did you just see that?” The young one stated. “It’s like she just reached into nonexistence and pulled something out of it.”

  “I think she found it.” Said the middle aged one. “I think she just opened Pandora’s Box.”

  What he said startled me. “I did what?”

  “How did she even see it?” The female asked. “It’s not in synch with our dimension.”

  I turned around; looking towards the bookcase, but the box was gone, nothing in its place but an empty shelf. From the Blade came a low hum.

  World/Mind initiating…

  I spun around. “Who said that?”

  “Who said what?” The middle aged one asked. “What’s she doing?”

  Quantum Parallel Dimension Shift Link in progress…

  The young one looked at the female. “You should remember this! Why don’t you remember this? How the hell could you forget seeing a Box of Pandora being opened in front of you?”

  Insufficient soul consumption available…

  “What?” I spun around again. “You don’t hear that?”

  “It’s the Event.” The female announced. “The Forgotten Future singularity.”

  They all looked at me.

  “It’s happening.” She continued. “Now.”

  The Blade of Osiris burst into liquid flame, everything except the hilt remaining solid.

  Biometric genetic scan initiated... Biometric genetic scan completed. Partial-Celestial energy matrix confirmed. Reconfiguring... Reconfiguring… Reconfiguring… Reconfiguration complete. Durability enhancement recommended. Cerebral cortex accessed. Initiate Ambrosia… Ambrosia consumption complete. Physicality enhanced. Restructuring of brainwave pattern needed for optimal performance. Injection of neurological replicating nanites recommended. Nanites injected. Reconfiguring… Neurological pathways rewritten for Celestial compatibility. Quantum Parallel Dimension Shift Link in progress. Error… Insufficient soul consumption available.

  I watched as the Blade dissipated, seemingly evaporating out of existence. I looked up at the three John Rogers “What the hell just happened?” From my forearm, a black oil substance began oozing out of the pores of my skin and started to crystalize.

  I was staring at my hand, which no longer appeared human any more. From my elbow down it was as if it was coated in obsidian volcanic rock, yet underneath that initial crystalized layer, it was as if the core of my forearm and hand was composed of nothing but black oil. I held my arm up and let the light reflect off it. Despite how alien that part of my body now appeared I had to admit:

  “Now that looks bad ass.” I said. “So what’s the deal with you three?”

  “Each of us represents a specific version of John Rogers, albeit from a different point in time.” The female said. “Megan has in her possession a device that has linked onto our specific quantum signatures and she is using it to keep us stranded in this specific timeline.” She explained.

  “How is that possible?” I asked. “I thought it was a chaos equation that caused you to time travel? How can she affect that?”

  The young one pointed to the device towards the center of the room. “With that.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “The Argo. We’re located at the heart of it. Some type of Celestial technology that Enoch unearthed on this island and partially deciphered.” The middle aged one stated. “Its original purpose was to ride Quantum wave lengths and provide voyage between planetary bodies and dimensional vortexes. When it’s activated, no quantum shifts can be made within the Argo until a destination is imputed into the device so that everyone arrives at the desired destination at once. She located as many of us as she could find in this dimension and brought us here, then activated the device without imputing a destination.”

  “So as long as it’s on, we can’t quantum parallel shift out, the device keeps us trapped here until either a destination is imputed or the device is turned off.” The young one explained.

  “And where is here?” I asked.

  “Lemnos.” The female said. “It’s an island. Enoch discovered it centuries ago has established it as his center of operations for CornerStone Development.”

  “Why don’t you remember any of this?” The middle-aged one asked the female again.

  “What does that mean and will you please stop repeating it over and over again.” I concentrated and the Blade of Osiris materialized into my hand in its volcanic rock version, no longer then a bayonet. I concentrated again and
it extended. I focused and the Blade transformed in a sword of liquid black flame with a burning white-hot core. With another thought, it evaporated.

  “What is that?” The young one asked.

  “Don’t worry about it.” I replied. “What’s with all the hate towards the chick version of John Rogers?”

  “I’m from a later point timeline.” She explained. “About another century in the future.”

  “Is that why you have boobs?” I asked.

  “I’m…not a very popular person there. I needed to disguise my appearance.” Female Rogers explained. “But these two.” She pointed to the other versions. “They are from my past, so if they witnessed this event…”

  “Then you should remember it happening because you’re from the future.” I finished. “Sounds easy enough.”

  “But I don’t.” She said. “I don’t remember any of it.”

  “It’s the singularity I’ve been trying to warn people about.” Middle-aged John added. “An event in the past that alters everything on a quantum level.”

  I shrugged “So the future gets rewritten, what’s the big deal? It hasn’t even happened yet.”

  The female shook her head. “But I would still remember it, because I’ve witnessed it in the past.”

  “That would be me.” The young Rogers raised his hand.

  “And me.” Said the middle-aged version.

  “But I don’t remember a Box of Pandora being opened in my presence.” She explained. “That means something is going to happen to the timeline. Something catastrophic that will change things.”

  “I’m fucking confused.” I admitted. “Forget about that. Does Megan know the Box was in this workshop?” I asked. “Is that why she brought me to you?”

  “Yes and no.” The younger Rogers said. “She wanted us to fix you. She didn’t want you to die. That’s why she brought you to us.”

  “There all types of material in this workshop that regenerate flesh.” The female said. “She knew we could figure something out.”

  “And the Box?” I asked.

  “Heracles had promised her that it was somewhere on this island.” The middle aged one explained. “That it was hidden away here by a Celestial, but they didn’t know where because it’s supposed to be out of synch with reality. It’s invisible, intangible and unable to be detected.”

  I looked down at my volcanic hand. “Not to me apparently.”

  “She knows you’re supposed to open it.” The young one said.

  “Enoch has been using our knowledge of the future to expand his conglomerate, CornerStone Development for years now.” The female walked over to the Argo. “Once we decipher how to input quantum ciphers into this device, we’ll be able to escape into our perspective timelines.”

  I could hear a lock being turned, accompanied by several gears rotating and the entrance to the workshop opened. Heracles entered and when he did, the Rogers’ scampered away from him. The man loomed over me, nothing but muscle and I could see that the three of them were afraid of him.

  “Come with me.” He commanded.

  I remained where I was.

  “Youngling, you must learn to distinguish between enemy and advisory if you are to endure.” He turned and walked off.

  Hesitantly I followed after him, stopping at the door, turning back to the three John Rogers at the last moment. “I’ll come back for you.” I declared.

  “I wish I remembered if you already did.” The female called out as Heracles closed the door, turning a huge gearshift to lock it.

  He led me down a metallic, circular corridor that radiated a claustrophobic feeling off the very walls themselves. It was lined with windows and yet the glass was so tinted that I was not unable to see beyond them, nor did they seem to cast any sort of reflections as well.

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked.

  Heracles continued on, turning down different corridors when need be. “I have my reasons.”

  “I’m sure you do.” I uttered.

  “I know what that is on your arm.” He announced. “I have witnessed it before.”

  We made another turn and found ourselves in a great ceremonial chamber. Towards the rear was some type of primordial, elevated, obsidian stone dais, with gilded cartouches and talismans emblazoned against its front. There were sandstone carved steps, thirteen in total that led up to the altar and on each side of them was a gigantic quadrilateral monolith which rose nearly as high as the ceiling itself.

  On this altar in a sheer black, peignoir negligée was Girard, who lay their motionless. Her heartbeat was so faint that it was a miracle that she was even alive. Heracles closed the door to the chamber and pointed for me to remain where I was. From a concealed entrance closer to the raised dais, another door opened and Abigail was forced through. Behind her was Aiden, Frankie and Dakota. Connor was last. He was alive though the wounds to his face had not fully healed, as he still appeared broken.

  Abigail was the first to reach me. “Madison!” She gave me a hug and as everyone joined us, I couldn’t imagine a better feeling then knowing that they were alive and well.

  “What’s happened to Girard?” I asked.

  “Some…creature attacked us.” Frankie said. “It slashed her up real good before crashing out the window.”

  “That thing was Ethan.” I admitted.

  “Ethan?” Aiden came closer. “That thing looked more like…”

  “He looked like a Goddamn Werewolf.” Frankie blurted out. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “More then you could possible perceive.” Megan declared.

  We turned from our little huddle and saw them, standing at the base of the steps. Megan, Salome, Enoch and Heracles. The Coven of the Disillusioned in all its splendor and grandiose.

  “What is that on her arm?” Megan asked. Everyone turned to look, my volcanic forearm and hand seemingly absorbing the light around it.

  “Some type of healing salve.” Heracles stated. “The Oracle trio explained that it should flake off sometime by nights end.”

  “Excellent.” Megan said.

  “We are not your enemy.” Enoch proclaimed. “In fact, we are in a position to help you.”

  “You sure do have a funny way of showing it.” Aiden called out.

  “We…” Salome hesitated. “…may have been overzealous in our approach. So we are prepared to offer you a show of good faith.”

  “Then you plan on letting us go?” I asked.

  “In time.” Megan admitted. “But for now we offer you a trade. Something given for something taken.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean.” I questioned.

  Enoch pointed towards the dais. “An Immortal for an Immortal. The Werewolf…”

  “You mean the traitor.” Connor clarified.

  “Bold words.” Megan stated. “But we’ll address traitorous actions soon enough.”

  “The one you call Ethan Blackwood. He is a Werewolf, an Immortal who acted as the eyes and ears of the Translucent Man. He attacked this woman. She will not survive.” Enoch walked up the steps, then around to the back of the dais. “The Werewolf transformation did not fully take, her body has partially rejected it, which is known to happen and so the bites and wounds that she received are killing her instead of transferring the Wolf bloodline into her own.”

  Enoch motioned to Girard’s body. “It is in my power to save her. My tribute to the Clan of the Rose.”

  This wasn’t even a choice. “Do it.”

  “Madison…” Connor began.

  “Shut up.” I gave him a cold stare. “I’m not going to let her die.” I looked at her body, how peaceful she looked upon the dais and it reminded me of my mother’s body on that slab in the morgue. “I promised to protect her.”

  “Know that if I do this…” Enoch explained. “…she will be neither Vampire nor Werewolf, but something else entirely.”

  “I don’t care.” I yelled. “If you can help her then do it.”

  “Very
well.” Enoch drove his hand deep into her chest.

  “NO!” I screamed.

  When his hand emerged from inside of her, he held Girard’s still beating heart in his hand.

  “Oh my God.” Frankie exclaimed.

  Enoch held her heart towards the sky and began to chant over and over again in a language that I couldn’t understand.

  Unspecified language specified. Atlantian dialect. Circa 25,975. Year of the Broken Butterfly. Ninth verse / Third chapter of the Necrorubicon. Harmonics of the selected verses cause vibrations in the embryonic division between this and the sixth dimension. Translation available…

  There it was again. That voice inside of my head. If I didn’t know any better I’d think that the Blade of Osiris was plugged directly into my brain. I glanced around, just to be sure, to see if anyone else could hear it, but they were just looking up at Enoch mortified.

  Translation available…

  His chanting was getting louder and it was only then I noticed that Girard’s heart, which he held cusped between his hands high over his head, was still beating. Further up, above Enoch, the air began to shimmer and displace. A dark circle appeared in the middle of the shimmer that crackled with electricity. There was more disarticulation in the atmosphere as the airstream picked up and the circle broke apart into three pieces, two moving horizontally apart from each other while the third rose directly up. Lighting flashed from one to the next, connecting them all in the form of triangle.

  Enoch’s voice had become muted and yet his fervor only increased. From the triangle, lightning flashed forth, a bright sphere of current and from this electrical tempest, a form materialized. An ebony Pegasus emerged in the air, its body a hulking mass of muscles and sinew. Growing from each side of its body was an enormous feathered wing; spread out it all its glory, the wingspan of the Pegasus reaching fifteen feet easy. Rooted at the center of its head was a sparkling diamond encrusted horn that grew forth from three separate places. The horns became entangled together to form one massive Unicorn horn.

  The Pegasus came to ground just before us, beautiful and majestic. There was a dense feeling as reality itself seemed to fold back into place and the area above Enoch’s head was as it was before he began the ritual.