by Amy Cross
I take a deep breath. It all sounds so perfect, so right, as if the chaos of the human world has been replaced by a system of order and beauty. I belong with these spiders.
“Come,” Keller says suddenly.
Looking up, I see him standing in the doorway.
“I...” I pause for a moment, scared in case he's about to tell me something that's too shocking for my mind to comprehend. Already today, so much is new. “I thought I might read for a little while longer...”
“There will be plenty of time for that,” he replies. “The Book of Karakh has both old and new testaments, and you must study them extensively. You must also be put through a regime of intense training, in order to prepare your body for the trials ahead. No matter how strong you might feel right now, Emilia, you will be so much greater by the time I am finished with you.”
“I don't feel strong at all,” I tell him, my voice trembling with fear. “I just want to read. Please, can I read and try to make sense of this in my own mind?”
“You must read to become a scholar, but you must also train to become a warrior.”
“A warrior?” The word scares me. “I don't want to become a warrior.”
“You have no choice. Your bloodline commands it.”
“I just want to read,” I tell him, even though I can already tell there's no point arguing. “Someone else can be a warrior, but I just want to read and draw.”
He shakes his head.
“I have to come with you?” I ask, terrified of the answer I know I'll receive.
“You must learn the ways of your species,” he replies. “You must embrace your true nature so that you might extend your strength in every possible way. As you will discover later in the Book of Karakh's second testament, the history of the spider race has ebbed and flowed many times, but while it is at its lowest point tonight, it will soon rise again. Prophecies and promises are going to come together, along with something even more powerful.”
“What's that?” I ask.
“The sheer strength of our will,” he continues, his voice filled with grit and anger, “as we search for our homeland. There are few of us left, Emilia, but I swear on the gods themselves that we will get what we deserve, and that we will let nothing stand in our way, not even the pitiful vampire race.”
I open my mouth to ask him more questions, but after a moment I realize that perhaps I should simply obey. Setting the Book of Karakh down, I get to my feet and follow Keller out into the corridor. He leads me to another room, where a large mirror offers a reflection of my tired, scared face. I already knew that I most likely looked a little timid after everything that happened lately, but I had no idea just how fearful I had become, or how much pain was in my eyes. The nightmares I've endured – dreams of Constantine, and that far-off palace, and even Leanne – have worn me down to the point where I feel as if the fabric of my soul has become thin and frayed. I need to find fresh strength from somewhere.
“Look at yourself,” Keller says calmly.
“I am.”
“No,” he replies. “Look at yourself as you truly are.”
“What -” Before I can finish, I realize exactly what he means. Reaching down, I raise my shirt to reveal the slit in my belly, and I can already feel some kind of mass churning within, the same mass that I didn't dare witness when it emerged to kill Leanne in the forest. On that day, I was too scared to look; now, even though I feel sick with fear, I know I must see all of myself.
“Spider, vampire, human,” Keller whispers. “One thing is true of every species. It takes exceptional bravery to look at oneself with total honesty. To bare one's lightest and darkest aspects. You have that courage, Emilia.”
“I don't know if I do.”
“Don't be scared,” he continues. “This is a glorious thing.”
Just as I'm about to search for the strength to pull the side of the slit apart, I feel something twisting inside and forcing its way through. The slit bulges open as first one, then two, then six and finally eight sharp, razor-edged legs poke out, widening the slit even further until I'm able to see two large fangs and, finally, a head with eight round, dark, glistening eyes.
“What is that?” I ask, my heart pounding so hard that I feel it might burst at any moment.
“It's you,” Keller replies. “The real you. The form you must take when you are not disguised in humanoid form.”
I shake my head.
“Look at yourself properly,” he continues. “Close your eyes.”
“But -”
“Close your eyes,” he says again. “It's the only way to see yourself properly. Trust me.”
I stare at the mass in my belly for a moment, before slowly closing my eyes as ordered. For a few seconds, I stand in darkness and silence as I feel ripples of pleasure shuddering through my body. There's pain, too, as if parts of my body are tearing slightly as they learn new ways to move and shift. At the same time, everything feels controlled and ordered.
“Now open your eyes,” Keller whispers into my ear.
“I can't,” I whimper, as the pain increases and tears run down my cheeks.
“Open them,” he says again. “All of them.”
Slowly, I do as I'm ordered, but this time something is different. Instead of looking out through the two eyes of my human face, I'm looking through the eight eyes that are poking out through the slit in my belly. It takes a moment before I'm able to draw together the eight distinct perspectives, but finally I manage to make sense of the image and I see those eight eyes staring back at me in the mirror. Instead of feeling disgusted, I'm fascinated, and all I can do is watch as the dark mass twitches and twists, celebrating its freedom.
“And now,” Keller continues, sounding proud, “your training can begin.”
Emilia
Today
“It feels good, doesn't it?” I whisper, leaning closer to Jonathan in the dark chamber, seeing the pain and fear in his eyes. “That moment when the lies are peeled away and the ugly, messy, wet truth is revealed...”
Pausing, I feel a shiver pass through my body.
“I was much younger than you when this happened to me,” I continue. “When I learned the truth about myself. I had someone to teach me, someone who was able to guide me through the process. It hurt at the time, to learn where I really came from and what I really am, but eventually I was able to accept it all. And now look at me. I'm in control, I'm on the verge of something...” Looking down at his bare, bloodstained body as he hangs from ropes against the wall, I feel a sense of compassion. Of all the vampires I've ever encountered, he's the only one whose soul seems truly noble. “Something beautiful,” I whisper, reaching out and running a fingertip down his belly.
“Let me go,” he whispers, barely able to stay conscious as the light from nearby candles picks out his features. “Either back to my old life or into death, but either way, please let me go. You've got this all wrong. Whatever you want, I don't have it.”
“Keller wants to cut your brain open and root around in there,” I reply. “I've talked him out of it for now, but he's not a very patient man.” Reaching up, I tap the side of Jonathan's head. “It's hard to believe that the secret is in there somewhere, locked away in a mass of neurons and chemicals. Can't you just focus and find the information? It'd be so much easier to get it out through your lips rather than cutting it out with a scalpel.” I lean closer, breathing deep to take in the scent of dried sweat and blood that cakes his naked form. “I've hurt you enough. Where is Karakh?”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Where is Karakh?”
“I've never heard of it, I don't even -”
“Where is Karakh?” I shout, momentarily losing my temper before reminding myself that I should stay calm. Keller taught me to be disciplined and strong, and I will not go against my training. I'm not a little girl anymore. “Don't act like a fool,” I tell Jonathan finally. “It doesn't suit you. Your eyes are too intelligent.”
“I've never heard of Karakh,” he whispers. “I swear, none of it means a thing to me.”
I can't help but smile at this determination to deny his own nature. “I believe you,” I tell him. “I know you don't feel the truth about yourself, but I also know that fear is holding you back. If you just let down your defenses and allow the truth to flood your soul, you can tell me what I want to know and we can see about getting you out of here. Keller thinks you should just be tossed aside, but I think I can persuade him to let you live.” I run a hand up his belly and onto his chest, feeling his firm muscles beneath the palm of my hand. “It would be almost sacrilegious for a spider to let a vampire live, so I can't promise anything. Of course, I'd need a little persuasion myself first.”
I lean closer and kiss the side of his neck, and he immediately flinches.
“Why do you always do that?” I ask.
“Do what?”
“Why do you act as if I disgust you?”
“You're a monster!” he hisses.
“What makes you say that?” Staring at him, I see the same hatred that I saw in Abby's eyes a few days ago. “Vampires are hard-wired to hate my species,” I continue. “Is this the first sign of your vampire instincts finally showing through? Is hatred perhaps the strongest part of your psyche? I saw a flash of it earlier, but I need it to be more sustained.” A shudder passes through my body as I realize that I might be right. “You're like your father and your sister, then,” I tell him. “All fury and hatred, and very little compassion. The nice side of you, the side that says kind things, is just a human veneer. It's not real.”
“You really believe what you're saying, don't you?” he replies. “You're out of your mind.”
“I was hoping it wouldn't come to this,” I continue, heading over to a nearby table and picking up one of the daggers I prepared. “Still, it's obvious that you need some physical proof. Fortunately, the vampire race has a remarkable ability to heal. If your bones get broken, they'll knit right back together, and if your skin is pierced, the two edges will kiss and make up. Tell me, Jonathan, were you never injured as a child? Did you never once scrape your knee and notice that it healed within seconds?”
“What are you going to do with that?” he asks, his eyes wide with fear as he watches me step closer with the dagger. “You have to realize that what you're doing is wrong, you have to know that it's all just a sick fantasy!”
“Well, one of us is certainly wrong,” I point out, placing the tip of the dagger against his throat. “I sure hope it's you, because if it's me, well... I'm about to murder an innocent human.”
“Please don't do this,” he stammers, “you -”
Before he can finish, I dig the dagger deep into his neck and then carve through to the other side, letting hot blood flow from the wound and run down his naked body. He gasps and splutters, desperately trying to say something, but I simply twist the knife around and then carve back under his chin and up to his ear. More blood is furiously pumping from the wound as I pull the knife out and hold it to my mouth, and finally I lick some of his blood from the blade.
“I don't think drinking blood is really my thing,” I say with a smile, spitting the blood back out as he desperately struggles for air, “but I'm quite sure that you'll be getting a taste for it soon. Once your instincts have truly woken up, that is.”
He splutters and gasps, and as I step back I can tell that he truly thinks he's dying. The fear in his eyes is immense. I could try to console him, of course, and tell him that everything will be okay, but I feel it might be better to just wait for him to learn that for himself. Smiling, I maintain eye contact with him as he struggles for air, but I can already see that the torn flesh of his throat is starting to heal itself. I've witnessed this happening to vampires before, of course, and it never ceases to amaze me how they can survive the most terrible injuries with barely a pause in their stride. Spiders have the same capability, of course, but not to such a vast extent. Even now, as his body jerks and shakes, Jonathan is healing, and he lets out a faint gasp as finally the flow of blood stops. He leans his head down for a moment and takes a series of deep breaths, and then he falls still.
I wait.
Silence.
“Well?” I say finally. “Are you convinced now?”
I wait again, but his body merely hangs from the ropes.
Smiling, I step forward and reach out, gently placing my fingers under his chin and tilting his head up until his shocked eyes stare straight into mine.
“You're alive,” I point out. “I cut your throat open but you're alive. Your body healed itself. How do you explain that?”
No reply.
“You can feel it, can't you?” I continue. “That peculiar strength that sets you apart from mere humans, that streak of dark cruelty that sits in the heart of every vampire. Even now, it's flooding through your body, waking you up, demanding your attention and screaming at you that it can no longer be denied. Something's waking in your soul, Jonathan and -”
Suddenly he opens his mouth and hisses at me, baring two needle-like fangs that weren't there a moment ago. I step back instinctively, before wiping the fine mist of spray from my face as he stares at me with pure, unmitigated hatred.
“And there we are,” I say after a moment, taking a compact mirror from my pocket and holding it up so he can see his own reflection. “Look at yourself. See what you are.”
He frowns, but I can see the hint of shocked recognition in his eyes. Slowly he closes his mouth, but I know that finally, after several days, I've managed to get through to him properly. I saw flashes before, but this is the real thing.
“So now we can dispense with the foolishness,” I continue, “and start the proper work.” Closing the compact mirror, I toss it aside and then step closer to him, although now I'm careful to maintain a safe distance. “It's time to give me what I want. Look deep into your mind, Jonathan, and tell me the secret that's buried deep. Tell me where to find Karakh!”
Emilia
Ten years ago
Bloodied and broken, barely able to get air into my one remaining lung, I stare up at the ceiling and feel another wave of pain rippling through my body. Keller tells me I'll heal soon enough, that I have to ignore the agony, but right now I can't even believe that I'll ever stand again.
“Get up, Emilia,” he says calmly from the other side of the room. “Another round.”
“I can't,” I whisper, tasting blood in the back of my mouth. “I -”
“Get up!” he screams.
I try to lift myself up from the floor, but I let out a gasp of pain as I feel the two edges of my cracked spine crunching together. For a moment I can't even breathe, and it takes a huge effort just to draw a little air into my body.
“Get up,” Keller says firmly. “You are a daughter of the house of Karakh, you are the last survivor of a royal bloodline, and you will get to your feet and continue your training.”
I pause for a moment, desperate to sleep, but finally I tell myself that there's no way I'm going to give up, not yet. Despite the agony throughout my body, and despite all the broken bones and torn organs, I force myself up while channeling all the pain to my heart, filling myself with the will to fight again. By the time I'm standing again, I don't even mind the pain. In fact, I welcome it.
“Attack me,” Keller continues, holding his arms out as if to welcome me for a hug. “You make the first move this time.”
I stare at him for a moment, waiting for just a little more pain to enter my soul, and then I charge at him. Screaming as agony ripples through my body, I slam into him and let out another cry, only for him to quickly knock my legs from under me and send me crashing to the floor again. I roll onto my side and spit out a mouthful of blood, and this time I think my right arm might be shattered.
“Get up, Emilia,” Keller says, stepping round me. “Another round. Time to go again.”
Part Four
FRACTURED
Abby Hart
>
It comes slowly at first. An awareness of light, of consciousness, and a memory of who I am. It's as if, after a period in the void of death, my soul starts to rise.
Death can't claim me.
Not now.
I won't let it, not while I still have so much to do.
For a moment, maybe half a millisecond or less, there's no pain at all. It has been so long since I felt this way, I'm immediately flooded with a sense of relief. Of course the pain returns soon enough, bursting into my body and rippling through my frame, sparking at every junction as it sets off on new ways through my flesh, skipping and sparking in my mind. I try to move, but all my bones are just rivers of dust flowing through what's left of my skin and muscle.
And then I feel something on my lips.
Something warm.
Something good.
Something that leaks down into my body and into those bone-dust rivers, infusing them with strength and reminding them of the forms they should take. The sensation only lasts for a few seconds, but it's enough to make the pain ebb from my mind. I think I let out a sigh of relief, but I'm not sure. Maybe. Barely even conscious, I feel myself starting to sink again, back down into the darkness. I want to open my eyes, but I can already feel myself getting colder, as if my soul went as high as it could manage and is now dropping once more into the depths. I reach out, but there's nothing to grab.
“Abby,” a voice whispers in the void. “It's going to be okay.”
When I reach the bottom, I find myself in absolute darkness, except... I turn and see a gray figure sitting nearby on a gray throne, watching me. His face is the face of death itself, and he knows my name.