Lives of Future-Past (The Chronicles of Max Gunnarsson Book 1)

by S. K. Benton

  Concentrating, Draagh cued into the armor he had created for the Dominion. He needed assistance, and he thought of a way to get it.

  “Donus, can you hear me? I am on the pathway between the west and north towers. A very powerful mage has taken my staff, and I need a distraction. Please, brother.”

  Still acting more injured than he was, he faked a groan and continued, “Marnn, what happened to you? How did I wrong you so? What brought everything to this point, with you accompanying a rotting band of walking corpses?”

  The fallen dark mage looked down at his supposedly weakened brother, and after giving him a sneer, turned and looked out over the vast plains to the north.

  “Nothing happened to me. You were the problem. Let me ask you this – when was the last time Jah addressed you - or any of us? We are the workhorses, required to fix, create, nurture and prop up the weak and the undeserving. I simply offered you the opportunity to help make the universe a better place – to rid it of the needy and the weak, to support those of strength - those who would be the foot soldiers of our destiny!”

  Draagh felt as though he was going to puke, and that was saying a lot, as he had not vomited in roughly 1.3 million years. Staying down, and allowing his psychotic brother to ramble on, he looked around through squinted eyes. His staff was four meters away, but if he attempted to move his hand to call it Marnn would see, and then blast him over the edge of the castle wall.

  “Do you actually think that I would have joined in your plan of madness? We were created to build, improve, and to nurture. It is our purpose.”

  “Do you remember Galicon S7? Do you? I spent 2,500 years helping that pathetic society get to the point where they could split the atom! Jah decimated the planet with but a thought! All of my great works, ruined!”

  Draagh stayed in place and simply shook his head, appalled that his brother was so nearsighted.

  “Marnn, they had interplanetary rockets and were going to send nuclear bombs to an inhabited moon! Plus, the attack would have thrown the moon out of the system’s orbit and affected countless billions of lives later on. They had to be stopped.”

  Spinning around, the dark mage boomed, “Bah! It was a sign of strength, and of the natural order of things. Were we not to support the natural order? Why, you pitiful fool, you would have taken the teeth from a tiger so that it could not harm a goat; that which nature intended it to eat!”

  The fallen Primulus was so busy boasting of his victory before it happened that he almost didn’t even notice Donus flying through the air, with a direct vector on his location. At nearly the last moment, he turned and waved the lycan commander off, causing the werewolf to yelp in pain and land in a heap some meters away - but that was all the time that Draagh needed. He quickly reached out, staff flying into his hand, and was instantly on his feet, ready to battle his brother – to the death.

  The palladium-infused oil worked quite well, and had sent another fifteen vampire invaders to a watery demise. Kangor busied himself running around, dispatching various vampires with teeth and claws. He had been shot with a palladium arrow, but the salubots in his system had effectively rejected the foreign object, and after having pushed it out of the muscle in which it was embedded, continued to heal the painful wound. Two, then three, then five vampires sent to ashen graves with his platinum claw enhancers, he was definitely making progress, and he only needed to keep it up for another hour. Thanks to the gift of a particularly powerful cantus by Draagh, the cage door would automatically open for each imprisoned lycan once the inhabitant had morphed out of their death form. When all doors were open, the full, unfettered force of the Dominion would eradicate what remained of the near-dead interlopers.

  As he had already used all of the defensive measures in the mass of machinery at the castle top, he could only fight and defend. Running from one end of the castle to the other, he grabbed a leg of lamb and munched it while he moved, replenishing his reserves so that his meter wouldn’t tank out. Rounding a corner, he was saddened by seeing four normals, lying together in a pile of drained death. One or more of Vladros’ soldiers had accosted them and replenished his or their own reserves. As the law stated, the king was to personally console the families of the fallen and present them with an honorarium of gold, but it was something that the Krynos had not had to do for a very long time.

  Kangor stopped for a moment and checked to make sure that all were indeed passed on. However, he detected that one was still alive and would eventually turn into a vampire, having been infected with the half-dead subspecies’ virus. The werewolf nuzzled the man over and gazed into his eyes. There was fear in them, as the normal knew the laws. He had the honor of standing by his king in time of need, but that did not make him less afraid of what was to come to pass.

  Reaching up to the massive, sapient phase 3, the man touched its face and choked out some final words.

  “Please… have our king care for my family.”

  “Grrrrr… law. We carrrre,” Kangor growled, barely being able to form the words with his lupine mouth.

  “Very well then, my friend - release me… please.”

  Kangor tore the man’s throat out in a flash, causing him to immediately lose consciousness and slip into oblivion. The man felt no pain, nor regret.

  As Krynos waited in the children’s chamber, he heard the sounds of boots going up the stairs. The scent was of vampire, and even though their stink had permeated the castle, his nose was sophisticated enough to smell distance and velocity. Rearing back on his haunches, he prepared to defend his precious children, who were more than terrified, but had already been well trained to stay quiet, especially in the gravest of circumstances.

  The door burst open and five vampire troops poured in, attempting to tackle the lycan king so that they could detain him with chains of rhodium, but they were not even close to being fast enough. As children screamed, Krynos was a blur, instantly clawing and decapitating three of the invaders, causing them to fall as ashen piles on the floor. The other two attempted to open a cubbyhole, only to be met in the face with concentrated garlic water, squirted out of a bulb with a small nozzle. The two vampires screamed in agony as their faces burned, giving Krynos a chance to swoop by them, separating their heads from their bodies with his hind claws, which were not coated with platinum enhancers, resulting in massive sprays of blood covering the faces of shocked children locked in the cubicles close by.

  Enough troops had gotten over the wall and survived the mauling claws of Kangor and Donus to open the drawbridge and allow Vladros to majestically enter, still surrounded by his protective forces. As they filtered in, Ryder Johnson ran in from the western side of the castle and lithely avoided the great whites in the moat. Vladros looked around gloatingly from his protected position in the castle courtyard, while Johnson slipped by and ducked into a doorway, intent on finding Max and Jennie. A vampire soldier quickly approached his liege to give a status update.

  “Lord Vladros, even though we have suffered losses, we occupy the majority of the castle, and, as you had predicted, all of the fools have locked themselves into cages for the duration of the full moon.”

  The reporting officer had various slowly healing scratches on his face, a testament to the skill of his command unit.

  “Find Krynos. I want his head on a platter before we leave this repugnant locale.”

  “As my Lord orders,” said the officer, as he bowed and backed away.

  Vladros looked up to the turrets and in between the western and northern towers saw great flashes of lightning and heard thunderous booms.

  “Ah, Marnn must have had his family reunion,” he laughed, and hoped that somehow they would kill each other, saving him the trouble of doing it himself.

  Liliana hid for a while in Jennie’s room, the familiar smell comforting her as she stayed under the bed and listened for sounds, while sniffing for the scents of approaching vampires. Unable to detect any imminent danger, she crawled out from under the bed and started e
xploring the room, looking for anything that could be useful. Still hearing the sounds of screaming and fighting outside, along with thunderclaps, she knew that there was danger, but all she wanted to do was to help Jennie. The sparse room offered nothing to her, that is, until she leaned up against a bookcase and was nearly clocked in the head with Jennie’s power gauntlet, which had been precariously balanced on a shelf above. Startled, she looked down at the spiked, metal glove and slowly picked it up. Even though she had played with it before, she had seen Jennie wear this on her left hand and keep her wand in her right, so she did what children do best – she imitated Jennie’s movements. As she had previously done with her wand, she wore the gauntlet and attempted numerous cantuses, unaware if any of them even existed. After exhaustively trying to make something happen, she dropped the gauntlet and fell to the floor in despair, tears coming out of her coffee-brown eyes, which looked surprisingly similar to Jennies. In fact, if one saw them together it could have been inferred that they were related, even though Liliana had lighter skin than Jennie.

  What can I do? she thought. I don’t want to die. Please, Krynos, protect Jennie and Max.

  Suddenly, a thought popped into her head. She remembered what Jennie had said that night when they were shocking the cat in that very room.

  “We can be returned to our day form with a sufficient electrical shock, according to Draagh.”

  Picking up the gauntlet and placing it on her hand, she steeled herself and took a deep breath.

  ”Electrincantatio quassatio!”

  A massive electrical shock shot out from the gauntlet, and nearly lit Jennie’s bedding on fire. Her face aghast, she thought, Well, if I use this cantus I might light her on fire, but it is the only one I know.

  She smelled and listened for signs of vampires, or even phase 3 lycans, and hearing none, bolted out the door and down the corridor, directly for the access tunnel. She knew what she was going to do.

  In the lower level dungeon, two floors below the prisoner dungeon, where all of the phase 3s were locked away, the majority of werewolves were running madly around their small enclosures, smelling vampires through the air ducts that brought fresh air down into the depths of the castle. In most cases at that hour, they would be quietly and happily munching away on the partial animals hung above their cots, but this night was different.

  Max and Jennie, in their phase 3 forms, paced around their cells, occasionally running up to the bars and trying to sniff for indications of any kind of threat. They only experienced things with animalistic instincts and vague, black and white imagery in their minds. Base feelings, such as rage, lust, fear and pain drove them via a genetic fight-or-flight response. They had both already eaten their venison legs, and were amped up and ready for anything, although they had no clue as to what. The other phase 3 werewolves who had not eaten would suffer a meter tank upon phase 1 conversion, as there were not enough energy resources available to sustain them once they had changed. Fortunately, only very few of them ever suffered this, as the clan previously identified them as potential crashers, so their meat supply was always set on the floor instead of being hung from the ceiling. The waking team always provided nourishment shakes to those who needed it – Alea was on the waking team, and she would be sorely missed that following morning.

  Five floors above, Liliana navigated through the castle walls, sniffing until she found the proper vertical access tunnel - the one that would lead her to the lower dungeon area. She reached over and shook the ladder, just to make sure it wouldn’t fall apart on her, and seeing that it was stable, began to climb down to the lower depths of the castle with Jennie’s gauntlet on her left hand and the wand in her mouth.

  Outside, the two Prīmulī quickly moved around, suspended in the air, 10 meters above the walkways between the castle towers. For every cantus that was thrown, an expert defense was provided, and it seemed that Draagh was constantly on the defense, and he knew that if he was to win the fight he would have to reverse the order of things. Marnn wasn’t just hitting him with grav pushes either – he was using everything in his arsenal that wouldn’t result in his own incineration. As they were in clear view of anyone in the expansive open areas of the castle, they were putting on a spectacular show. It just happened to be one of the deadliest close-quarters combat shows ever seen in the Orion Spiral Arm of the Milky Way.

  Vladros watched with keen interest (and shielded eyes), as the two demi-gods battled, thick beams of multi-colored light emanating from their staffs.

  “Torlen! Do you not see the futility in their battle?” asked the vampire king.

  His protective guard, Torlen, was one of his most trusted aides, and always agreed with the leader of the ghouls.

  “Yes, my liege, it seems like a never ending cycle of attack, defend, attack, defend, then they do it all over again. It would be quite boring, if the lights were not so unnervingly attractive.”

  A vampire that admired light was one thing, but Torlen was of a special breed – his bloodline was completely immune to any kind of UV rays. In fact, they could even get a tan, if not for the fact that they were still slowly decomposing walking near-corpses.

  “I want you to go inside with a small detail and hunt down Krynos. Bring me his head – or I will have yours. Go!”

  “Yes, my Lord”, he said, as he pointed to four members of Vladros’ protective guard and motioned for them to follow him into the castle.

  The group of five entered into the same side door that Ryder Johnson had used to enter the castle, and sniffing the air, determined that there was little danger in the immediate vicinity. Moving down a narrow corridor, they encountered a stairwell, which they took to the upper levels. Moving up to the mezzanine, they looked out over the main hall, which was devoid of all life, with only small piles of ashes showing where their brothers had so valiantly fought not long before. Suddenly, they saw the flash of a figure running down a far corridor. Torlen sniffed the air and his troops gave each other wary glances, having just seen piles of vampire death on the main hall floor.

  “Not to worry, my brothers,” said the lesser-disfigured commander, “he was vampire, but he has a different scent. I believe it was the alien whom Vladros despises so.”

  He then tore down the pathway along the mezzanine, with troops in tow, following where Johnson had gone, and figuring that if it were the alien then he at least would be a fitting distraction for any lycan hiding in the shadows.

  Johnson looked in vain for Jennie and Max, not having any idea where they might be. He was given virtually no information on the castle, or where the phase 3 lycans housing was, as Vladros simply wanted him to die, not having the guts to kill the young man himself. As he raced down yet another hallway, he caught a scent – a scent of lycan youth, and spun around, looking in every direction. However, he didn’t look into the grates on the walls, because if he had he would have possibly detected a young lycan girl, noisily navigating her way down to the floors below.

  However, he did look at them.

  As there were still vampires rampaging throughout the castle, Krynos stayed with the children, constantly sniffing the air and checking the hallway. Then, he detected the scents of Donus and Kangor approaching. Waiting for them to arrive, he spoke to the children in the language that all lycans use when in sapient death form, learned from the time they are old enough to speak.

  “Children, you must sit in the very back of your kennels. Be very quiet and do not attract attention. Have your garlic sprays ready, and if vampires approach, spray them and scream as loudly as you can. Do you understand?”

  All of the children responded, saying, “Yes King Krynos!” in their native tongue.

  Moments later, Donus and Kangor burst into the room, with Donus giving their leader an update on the battle, while Kangor guarded the entryway.

  “We have managed to destroy the lesser forces of Vladros, and only his upper-caste remains. However, although they are not plentiful in numbers, they are skilled, so we must
fight together and carve a path of ash through the corridors until none remain.”

  Krynos nodded his lupine head, and looking around at the children (who were most definitely not following his previous instructions), let out a nasty snarl that sent them to the backs of their cubbyholes.

  Returning his gaze to his second in command, he growled, “This room has already been attacked by vampires, so it carries the scent of death. I do not believe that any will again approach this floor.”

  Having maintained a position near the door, Kangor also gave his king a status update.

  “My Lord, the defenses worked as expected, and the majority of the troops were decimated before scaling the walls. Plus, we also bring good tidings,”

  “And what would these good tidings be, Kangor?”

  “We shall not have to feed the sharks for at least a fortnight.”

  Donus smirk-growled, knowing that, although true, Kangor attempted to lighten the mood, which had been very dark for the past hours.

  Then the three most powerful lycans in the Rhönen Dominion bolted down the hallway, after Krynos had kicked some vampire ashes out into the corridor and locked the door, keeping the children relatively safe. Tearing through the East wing, they looked out windows facing the courtyard to see Draagh and Marnn fighting in their ancient arts. Numerous bolts of light and eerie, opaque shields materialized out of thin air as the stalemate continued. Sizzling sounds like burning metal squelched through the air. Hitting the master stairway, they dropped to the lower floor, where they had detected the rotting stench of the enemy. They split up, with Krynos heading out alone, and Donus and Kangor ghosting their leader. Although they were animals, sapient werewolves were extremely intelligent – one could say much brighter than normal when in their death form, and this was simply a lycan battle tactic.