The Pit in the Woods: A Mercy Falls Mythos

by Nathaniel Reed

  "I think the words you're looking for," Blake said, “…in the words of one famous actor are: I'm your worst nightmare."

  "Oh, I was just having fun. Simply killing can be so blasé. Had to make the poor old fool suffer," Arianna said. "Besides, he won't kill me, not if he wants to keep his powers."

  "You're a fool," Blake grinned. "I'd rather die than remain one of you."

  "Suit yourself," she said. She pulled out a gun and shot him. Staci screamed.

  The bullet hit Blake square in the chest. He fell back, but not down. Lucio yelled at her, "Stop your games! He can't be killed with that! Shoot the others!"

  She went to fire at Myron and Jeremy slapped the whip around her wrist, dragging her hand skyward. The bullet pinged off the rock above them, sending down a crumble of debris. The hooks were in her wrist, the whip pulled taut. The gun dropped from her hand, and Jeremy yanked as hard as he could, the hooks scratching trenches into her wrist, tearing apart ligaments and stretching muscle.

  Arianna screamed in agony as the silver hooks pierced veins and arteries, the skin and tendons stretching to capacity until they finally gave. Her hand came off, caught in the loops and hooks of Jeremy's whip. She fell to her knees screaming, blood pouring in gouts from the severed stump, and she waved it around as if she were watering down the cave floor with a fire hose.

  They wasted no time moving in on the vampires while they were focused on Arianna. Myron's sword went through Misty's neck like butter. The puzzled look she so often adopted never left her face. Staci decapitated two of the guards with the machete. Eve looked at Jeremy's stake in his belt loop and said, "Give me that!" snatching it, and piercing two of their hearts, leaving only Rusty to protect the unholy trinity. Blake, bullet in chest, with vampire speed, and vampire blood in his gut, grabbed the fleeing Rusty.

  "Ah, ah, ah," he admonished, "Just where do you think you're going?"

  "Hey!" Rusty shouted, "Hey!" Blake had him by the collar, and Rusty's legs were still moving, looking cartoonish as they ran in place, getting no traction. "I ain't got nothing to do with these dudes man!! I don't even like them!"

  "Really?" Blake said.

  "I'll vouch for that," Walter said, "Can't stand the Yankee prick's guts myself. Go ahead and kill him."

  "Not that I need your permission," Blake said, "but much obliged."

  "May I?" Eve said.

  "Of course," Blake agreed. She staked Rusty in the heart. He slid out from under Blake's grasp and dropped to the floor.

  "Kill American, right?" Eve said, looking at Walter, "Seeing as how much you like us," Eve winked, "Blake, they're all yours."

  11

  Arianna Genovese was certain that vampires were incapable of bleeding out, but the amount of blood that poured from her distressed her nevertheless. She wrapped her cloak around the stump, pressing down on it as tightly as she could, wincing with the effort. Myron smiled at her, waving his stump. She shot him a look of contempt.

  Incapacitated, she was currently not a threat and Blake wasn’t concerned with her at the moment, plus the others were standing in front, covering her. Walter was the next closest.

  “Kill us, especially me, and you’ll never get out of here!” Arianna laughed. “You’ll be nothing but a frail old bag of bones again!”

  “I’ll take my chances,” Blake said, and leapt at Walter. They

  collided into the throne of skulls which Lucio had occupied only

  moments earlier. Walter’s back received the brunt of the tackle. Blake and Walter rolled around at the foot of the throne, going at each other with such ferocity and intensity that even Lucio backed away. They were biting, punching and kicking each other.

  Blake took out his wooden stake, and Walter grabbed his wrist to prevent Blake from stabbing him with it. Both of them were strong, but with the blood of many vampires coursing through him at the moment, Blake was stronger. Walter managed to steer the stake away from his chest, but as he pushed it away Blake countered the pull and it wound up level with Walter’s face. Blake jabbed it down into Walter’s left eye.

  Walter screamed and rolled away, the stake still stuck in his eye socket. He was rolling around on the ground flailing, screaming “My eye! My eye!” His hands went toward it but he was afraid to pull the wooden shaft out. Blood bubbled and oozed around the stake, along with a white mucusy substance that was part clear and part half-cooked egg white.

  Standing over him Blake called, “Myron!”

  Myron rushed over.

  “Give me your sword,” Blake requested. Myron understood, and handed it over.

  Blake swung it down on Walter’s neck with such might that the steel vibrated all the way up his arms, as it clanged on the rock floor, slicing clean through. Walter’s head rolled toward the back wall.

  Lucio continued to back away, but his hand was behind him, reaching behind the throne. When his arm came back around he had grasped what he was looking for. Lucio produced a sword of his own.

  12

  It seemed like forever that she felt human. But with the power of the vampire’s blood that she had fed on still coursing through her veins, it was hard to believe the change was real. Eve

  watched the battle with detachment. Though Myron, Staci and

  Jeremy stood by her side, ready to step in should things go wrong, they felt no more real to her than her own humanity. She’d done things down here she’d never forget; that none of them would. She would have nightmares about the children they were forced to kill.

  Had she avoided human blood, and saved herself by becoming human again by coming down here? Or had she only lost her soul, to become a shell of a human? These were questions for later, if they got out of here, but they plagued her now with urgent persistence; she hadn’t had the time to truly think in the last few months. Her thoughts were all an exercise in control- controlling the hunger, and the violence of her vampiric nature. Now it was all she could do to simply keep from breaking down before the battle was even won. She had to get control of herself, had to keep it together.

  13

  There was a space in time, while they were watching the battle between Blake and Lucio, when no one watched Arianna. There was a furious clash of swords, and it was clear Lucio was as strong, or stronger than Blake, even after Blake had fed off so many vampires. Lucio was, after all, the son of Marcus, the master vampire of their clan, killed decades earlier.

  Arianna was crawling away from the scene, toward a cavern wall on the other side. Jeremy turned.

  "Oh no you don't!" he said, and swung his whip, encircling the wrist of her intact hand. Despite her injury she was quick, able to grab the whip before it fully wrapped around, keeping the hooks from sinking into her, fist just underneath the barbs. She yanked, intending to pull him down, but instead the weapon slipped out of Jeremy's grasp and she dragged it toward her. Although she couldn't use it, it was one less weapon they had.

  Jeremy looked at Staci holding the machete. "Cut her fucking head off!"

  "NO!" Blake cried, parrying Lucio's sword with his own, "Not

  yet!!"

  Jeremy understood, and though Staci was walking over to do just that, she stopped when Jeremy held up his hand.

  "Keep an eye on her," Jeremy said. "If she moves again, start chopping off some other limbs."

  Staci grinned, "With pleasure."

  14

  Sharp teeth were bared, sharp swords clashed. Very near evenly matched, each thrust, each swing of a sword was parried by the others. Blake and Lucio were in a death match with no foreseeable conclusion. Then suddenly Lucio's sword got through, cutting a shallow diagonal slash down Blake's cheek and drawing blood. Several parries later Blake got through, underneath Lucio's sword, thrusting the point into his ribcage, but he kept fighting despite the silver attacking his system.

  "You're getting weaker Lucio!" Blake said, but they continued to cross swords. Lucio faked a swing and thrust his sword forward instead. It went into Blake's shoulder, coming out the othe
r side. Blake restrained a scream, biting his lip, and managing a muffled grunt. He staggered backward, barely able to raise his sword to block the next blow. He heard Staci scream faintly. Blake threw his weight into the next attack, not just swinging but charging. Lucio's sword came up to block, but he was slammed into the cavern wall. An oomph escaped him. Swords locked and crossed, Blake was close enough to gnash his teeth near Lucio's face.

  Lucio head butted Blake. He went reeling and fell to the ground on his back, his sword falling beside him. Lucio raised his own sword over his head, about to bear it down on Blake to cleave him in half, but Staci ran underneath him, bringing up her machete. It went up through Lucio's gut, slicing inward through his heart. Instead of the blade of a sword, Blake got a face full of blood, as Lucio coughed up a

  mouthful and it sprayed from the open wound, his eyes expressing

  incomprehension. Blake had this one chance, and one chance only. Clearing the stinging blood from his eyes, he picked up his sword, lifted himself up, and swung. The blade struck Lucio in the throat, slicing through his Adam's apple, penetrating half way through his neck, blood spurting in intermittent jets like a sprinkler.

  Staci moved from underneath, leaving the machete behind, inside his body, as he fell to the ground on his side. Blake walked over to him. Lucio's mouth was still moving, mouthing nonsensical words, his eyes open and blood spattered. Staci looked at Blake, uncertain, thinking he would finish him off with the sword. She and the others turned away in disgust when he brought his boot heel down on his head. Lucio was still twitching, so Blake stomped on his head again.

  "How does it feel?!" Blake screamed at him, "Tell me you fucking cunt, how does it feel?!" He brought his boot down again and again, crushing Lucio's head, caving it in, the brains oozing out; mashing it until it was unrecognizable. Long past when he was already dead. He kept on.

  Eve grabbed him. "Enough! Blake! Enough!" Blake looked at her. She hadn't realized his eyes were filled with tears. "I'm sorry Blake, I'm so sorry. It's over now. He's dead."

  "Yes," Blake said, turning, walking away. He stepped toward the doorway. And then turned toward them, looking at the last of the vampires, at Arianna, and said, "Do what you will with her."

  15

  The one thing Staci didn't see when she'd saved Blake was what she was missing. When she'd gone underneath Lucio and cut him with the machete, she'd used both hands. She thought she'd slipped her stake through her belt loop, but it had dropped to the ground. It continued to go unnoticed as Arianna moved toward it.

  "Do what you will with her," Blake had said. But she looked

  pathetic, crawling around like that. After all, it was her hand that was

  affected, not her legs. Myron had gotten up after he'd lost his, and

  she was a goddamned vampire!

  It wasn't pity precisely, but a sense of honor. After having beaten up on Max, and having killed so many of them, they were just done with it. They'd killed enough.

  "Let her die in the blast," Jeremy said.

  But she wasn't done.

  "You won't kill her?!" Blake said, "Fine! I'll do it myself!"

  She sprang up unexpectedly, lightning quick, even as Blake ran at her with his sword. There was something in Arianna's hand, but it was a blur. It was too late when they realized what it was.

  Blake's sword thrust through the middle of her throat, piercing it vertically, the point coming out the back of her neck, slicing through her esophagus and vocal chords, forcing her to gag and make strange sounds through her perforated throat. A rush of blood washed over her once graceful neck, coating it and her chest in a cascading blood fall.

  At the same time Arianna raised the stake Staci had dropped, and jammed it into Blake's heart. He let go of the sword. It stayed lodged in Arianna's neck and they fell away from each other.

  "Noooo!" Eve cried.

  Blake lay on his back, and Eve ran to him. Jeremy took his stake and stabbed the still moving Arianna in the chest, her head forced to face sideways on the floor because of the sword that stuck out of her like odd oversized jewelry. She stilled, and Jeremy rushed toward Blake with the others.

  Eve was tearing up, "Blake, Blake, please don't die." His eyes were still open, his head shifted from one to the other. They knew he wasn't going to make it when he began to rapidly age right before their eyes, becoming human again. His injuries, the last being the worst, were too numerous and deep for a human to survive.

  "Blake," Jeremy said, "I'm sorry."

  Blake looked at him with something like pity, but it wasn't pity. It was sadness. "No, dear boy." He could barely say the words. He was all of an old man again- skinny, gray-haired and frail, but that fire was still in his eyes, even now. "You have nothing to apologize for. I should have never involved you kids in this." Blake lifted his wrist. "Here, take this." He must have been indicating his watch. "There can't be much time left. You need to get out." Jeremy took it off him, placing it on his own wrist.

  Eve caressed the side of Blake's face. "Go in peace old man. I love you Blake."

  Blake smiled weakly, "As I you, Eve. As I love all of you. Good----" His head shifted off to one side, his eyes staring out at nothing. Blake was gone.

  16

  Jeremy moved quickly through the tunnels, and the others followed him, none of them entirely sure which way to go. They were each attempting to retrace their footsteps, but they'd made so many turns, chosen so many paths.

  "Oh, it's no use," Jeremy said. "We've got twenty-eight minutes left. Even if we find our way back to the entrance, we'll never climb out in time."

  "Well, at least we die trying," Eve said, "It's what Blake would have wanted."

  "Right," Staci said, smiling through her tears. "He would have said something like 'Well, if we blow up at least we take all those bloody bastards with us.'"

  They laughed.

  "Sure sounds like him," Myron said.

  "Fair imitation of his accent too," Eve added.

  Trying to avoid focusing on the lost, with memories to sustain them, they plodded on.

  17

  With the four of them deciding which turns to take, and no

  vampires to speak of to get in their way, they made it in record time.

  When they passed the room where Jeremy's sister was killed, they knew they were headed the right way, although it opened the wound fresh. Jeremy looked away.

  "It's just wrong," Jeremy said when they left that room.

  "I know," Eve said, putting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

  "No," Jeremy said, "I meant, it's wrong that we have to leave them here; can't give them a proper burial."

  "Yes," Myron agreed. They made it to the pit opening with ten minutes to spare.

  "Not enough time," Jeremy said. He shrugged his shoulders. "Guess we'll die trying."

  Eve got out the rappelling gear and began inserting the hooks. Something, or someone made a noise behind them.

  They turned toward the source, catching movement in the shadows.

  "Wait," a voice said. A man stepped out of the shadows against the opposite wall. "I can help. Don't kill me."

  Man, or vampire?

  Distrustful, Eve prompted him. "Who are you?"

  The others didn't recognize him at first. Although he'd lost twenty or thirty pounds he was still rather stocky, and still looked to be in his late twenties or thirties. Of course, they knew he should be in his forties, as they were.

  "Carl?" Jeremy asked, perplexed.

  "Oh my God!" Staci echoed his confusion.

  "No way!" Myron exclaimed.

  "I'm one of them," Carl said ashamedly, "But not one of them, yet. I was waiting for you guys, hoping you'd make it out in time."

  "Not all of us made it," Myron informed.

  "Blake, Tony, Johnny?" Carl said.

  "No," Jeremy shook his head.

  "I'm sorry," Carl said. They were sad, but also surprised he remembered them all.

  "Okay, we haven't much time
," Carl said. "I can fly you all out. Then it's all right if you want to kill me. It was either going to be the blast, or you guys, and I'd rather it be you."

  He clasped Jeremy and Myron's hands, and they in turn took Eve and Staci's, forming a circle.

  "This is very noble of you Carl," Jeremy said, "Blake would have been proud."

  Carl nodded. "Might as well go out on a good note, right?"

  Up they went, and out, into the middle of a clear blue day. The air was cold and crisp, a literal breath of fresh air.

  Eve nearly cried. It had been months since she'd seen daylight, and it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

  It was in this moment that she found it odd that Carl hadn't changed back to human. If they'd killed all the vampires, and he hadn't fed then...

  "Carl?" Jeremy said. Carl was behind them spasming.

  "I lied," Carl said, "I've taken a life. I didn't think you'd kill me, and now you don't have to make that choice." His skin began to blister and peel. "Run, save yourselves from the blast!"

  Jeremy nodded. "Thank you."

  Carl gritted his teeth as his skin blackened, opening his mouth to scream as his body burst into flames.

  They each looked back only once, and stopped when they felt they were far enough away, to sit on a grassy knoll.

  They were facing the direction of the pit, and by silent consensus agreed to see it happen, to watch it all come down.

  Jeremy looked at Blake's watch, now his. "Two minutes to spare."

  18

  Inside the darkness, even the light from the torches dimming now, Arianna awakened.

  She sputtered through the hole in her throat, attempting to

  speak, to whom no one could know. She pulled the sword from her

  throat, quickly, as if unsheathing it. A gout of blood came with it, and her voice, hoarse, but there.

  "Gaaaah, you..." Her throat wound was already beginning to seal itself. Growing her hand back would be several days at least.