by Cheree Alsop
The words were soft and hesitant, the voice a bit coarse as if the speaker hadn’t said anything in a very long time. Everett recognized the tones of the girl who had cried on the other side of the elevator door. He didn’t know what to say. All he knew was that he couldn’t take the assault of noise again.
“Dark creatures,” he said, keeping his voice low and staring at the floor past his knees while he spoke. “Or, a dark creature, to be exact. There was only one.” He paused, then continued, “But I’m afraid there might be others.”
The voice didn’t respond. He felt as though it, she, was listening, but he couldn’t be sure. He spoke because if he didn’t, he felt like he would go crazy in the expectant silence.
“It was going to kill them, the Bowers. I knew it. I felt it. If I didn’t stand in its way, it was going to tear them apart in front of me and my family would be next.” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. His hair was wet from sweat. He doubted being terrified nearly out of his mind was good for a vampire. Perhaps he should start his own book on how not to die when one is a bloodthirsty monster. The first chapter would be on avoiding being frightened out of one’s wits. That couldn’t be good for anyone.
“I stopped running,” he said, remembering. He closed his eyes. “The creature was so much bigger than I thought it would be. It was black, blacker than black as if night itself would be terrified of such a beast.” He squeezed his closed eyes. “It ran me over. I knew it was going to kill me, and if it did, my family would be next. I could hear them on the porch. Isabella was so afraid.” He regretted not checking on his littlest sister before he had left the house for the Asylum. He should have made sure she wasn’t scared anymore.
“Did it get them?”
Everett’s eyes opened. He looked around the room, remembering where he was. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I think I might be in shock.” He took a shuddering breath. “No, it didn’t get them.”
He felt as much as heard whoever was in the room sigh.
“I pinned it, then it was on top of me. I couldn’t breathe. I could feel my heart pounding. It hurt, telling me I was almost out of blood. I had lost too much when the creature grabbed my shoulder.” The wound gave an answering throb and he put a hand to it. “I didn’t know how to stop the beast. I was dying; I felt it.” His voice caught. “And then it would kill them.”
Through the silence that followed, the girl asked, “What happened?”
Everett lowered his hand. “Dad told me to bite it.”
“You bit the creature?” she asked incredulously, her voice a bit louder as if she had drawn closer.
He couldn’t see her in the dim room. “Yeah,” he admitted. His lips pulled back as much in distaste from the memory as to show her what he was. “I’m a vampire, so I guess I’m equipped for it.”
“You don’t sound happy about that.”
Everett gave a humorless smile. “I saved my family. I should be happy.”
“But you’re not,” she guessed, her voice lifting slightly to turn it into more of a question than a statement.
Everett rested his chin on his knees that were pulled up. He studied the plain gray floor past his feet. “I should be,” he said. He shook his head. “But I killed it with a bite. It was so huge and horrible, yet it disintegrated after I sunk my fangs into it.” His voice lowered and he closed his eyes. “What kind of monster does it make me that I can kill something like that with one bite?”
His question lingered in the air, haunting him more than the poltergeist, eating at his heart, his conscience. If he was such a dangerous thing, maybe he shouldn’t be around humanity at all. Maybe a vampire was worse than a dark creature. His bite had proven as much.
“Who am I fooling?” he asked quietly, more to himself than to her. “I’m the one they should fear.”
“Fear isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
The proximity of the voice startled him. His head jerked up and he stared.
She stood in front of him, there but not there. He could see the back wall through her and her outline was faint, similar to when Monique’s former image had appeared in the moonlight as she danced.
The ghost seemed close to his age, yet her clothing was strange. She wore a pink, yellow, and white striped dress with straps instead of sleeves. There were sandals on her feet and her long dark hair was pulled back with a yellow ribbon that matched the dress. His mother would have loved such colors, but the Kingship had limited the supply of dyes and dyed clothing available throughout the Pentagrin because the plants and berries usually used were difficult to come by. Mrs. Masterson had her own hidden assortment of blue and red dyes she had made with her husband’s plants, but she didn’t dare use them for fear of bringing punishment down on the family.
What unsettled Everett was the way she looked at him. The ghost’s gaze was frank and unsettling, her gray eyes staring at him as if she could see through him. Everett felt exposed as though she saw his soul instead of his skin.
He rose with a hand against the elevator doors to steady him.
“Hi,” he said uneasily.
She gave a small smile that appeared uncomfortable on her face and vanished as quickly as it appeared. “I guess you’re not used to meeting ghosts every day.”
“I, uh, not really,” Everett said. He tried to force his thoughts to center, but after everything he had gone through, his brain refused to be the least bit helpful.
The elevator door opened without warning. Everett stumbled backwards.
“Everett?” Dr. Transton’s voice came over a speaker just above the numbers.
Everett had no idea how to answer back. He gave the ghost an apologetic look as he quickly searched the board for some sort of button to push to reply. Seeing none, he finally said, “Yes, Doctor?”
“Everett, report to the security floor immediately.”
The order sent a surge of alarm through Everett. “Yes, sir,” he replied.
The elevator doors began to close.
“Wait,” he said.
The doors didn’t listen.
“I’m sorry,” he called out to the ghost.
“It’s okay,” she replied.
A thought occurred to him. “What’s your name?” he asked.
The doors shut. He leaned against the metal for support.
“Lisette,” the ghost’s voice answered as a whisper in his ear.
Everett looked around quickly, sure she was beside him. Nobody else was in the elevator. Everett let out a breath and slumped against the wall. If there were any more surprises, he felt like he would explode.
Chapter Twenty
“You killed a wendigo?” Dr. Transton asked as soon as the elevator doors opened.
Alex stared at the room occupying the right wing of the ninth floor. Monitors took up every inch of space. The walls, the tables, and even the ceiling were covered in screens. Each one showed a different view of the city, and from what Everett could see, they also showed the other four cities of the Pentagrin as well.
“This is amazing,” he said.
Dr. Transton set a hand on Everett’s shoulder. “Everett, did you actually kill a wendigo?”
The urgency in the doctor’s voice caught Everett’s attention. “I killed a big black creature with spikes and horns, if that’s what you’re talking about.”
Dr. Transton stared at him.
“Told ya,” a voice from the corner said. A glance that way showed a huge, burly man with hundreds of eyes like a fly and an extra set of arms. He noticed Everett staring. “I’m Horace.”
Everett caught himself. “Oh, sorry. I’m Everett.” He crossed to the room and shook the monster’s hand.
“I know who you are,” Horace said with a grin.
Everett could see himself reflected in each of the man’s many eyes. It was disconcerting.
“You do?” Everett asked.
Horace chuckled. “Of course. You’re a bit of a celebrity here. Word’s already spre
ad about you killing the wendigo. Who knew?”
“How does everyone know?”
Everett’s question was answered by a gesture from Dr. Transton. He stared at the monitor the doctor pointed to. It showed the pile of black ash on his neighbor’s lawn where the dark creature had died.
“I didn’t know there was a camera there,” Everett said in amazement.
“There’s not,” Dr. Transton replied. “Horace has eyes all over the city.” He paused, then emphasized, “And I mean eyes.”
Everett glanced at Horace in time to see the monster pull an eye from his head. As soon as he held it in his hand, the eye sprouted legs and a small set of wings that looked far too tiny to lift the large eye. In defiance of Everett’s thoughts, the little wings flapped and the eye flew out a tiny window near one of the monitors.
“Like the bumblebee,” Everett whispered.
“Too big for its wings, but flies anyway, is that right?” Dr. Transton asked.
Everett nodded distractedly, his attention on Horace. Another eye had grown in where the last one had been. As soon as it was in place, the monster turned away, intent on an image in another screen.
“Horace’s footage shows you fighting the wendigo.”
At Dr. Transton’s nod, the monster pulled out one of his eyeballs and stuck it into a little divot beside a monitor. The iris turned green and the monitor’s image changed.
Everett saw himself standing in the street. The creature looked even bigger than Everett remembered. He relived the moment again, the claws tearing into his shoulder, grabbing the leg and tackling the beast, pinning himself beneath the wendigo’s weight. Only a hand showed, pale and so small compared to the creature above, but the hand held onto the wendigo instead of pushing it away. Everett would have given everything to save his family.
“Bite it, Everett!” his father called out from beyond the image.
The taste of the vile creature filled Everett’s mouth again and he turned away. He heard the wendigo’s convulsions and Isabella crying in the background. He had thought his youngest sister had been inside. She had seen everything.
“Then, poof,” Dr. Transton said. “Dust, or black ash, or charred remains, whatever you want to call it. You bit it and it died. Do you know why?”
It was the answer Everett had come to the Asylum for. He had to know. He turned back. “Why?”
The doctor’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Because monsters are viruses.”
Before Everett could reply to the comment, Dr. Transton waved a hand at the screen.
“Think about it, Everett. Think about all you know about monsters, the Ending War, everything. What did humans try to do?”
“Kill each other,” Everett replied.
Dr. Transton shook his head. “That may have been the goal, each country trying to wipe out the other, ultimate world domination, but what were the means?”
Everett’s response was quiet when he said, “Chemical warfare.”
The doctor nodded. “Among other things, including EMPs, the atomic bombs, missiles to destroy satellites, and every other type of devastating attack mankind could come up with. But the problem is, in all of these cases, nobody thought about the Earth itself.”
Everett frowned. “So you’re saying the Earth created monsters as viruses to destroy the remaining humans?”
A broad smile ran across Dr. Transton’s face. “In a manner of speaking, yes. Viruses aren’t created out of the blue, and while chemical warfare and the fallout may be the reason for the various types of human subspecies monsters now in the world, there is another side of the coin.”
“What other side?” Everett asked, trying to follow the doctor’s train of thought.
“Anti-viruses.”
Everett shook his head. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
The doctor pointed at the screen. His finger landed on the pile of ash in Everett’s neighbor’s yard.
Everett felt sick. “You’re saying the wendigo are the Earth’s way of ending its viruses.”
Dr. Transton nodded. “It makes sense. Viruses attack, wiping out the weak members of a species and leaving it strong. Perhaps humankind has finally gotten to the end of its self-created destruction. If that’s the case, beasts like the wendigo have come to wipe out the viruses.”
The doctor’s words made Everett upset and confused at the same time. Feeling as though he was a subspecies of human made it possible to live among them with at least some feeling of belonging. Hearing Dr. Transton state that vampires were merely one of the many monster viruses created to bring the population down to a sustainable number made him merely an infection to those he cared about.
“What about your daughter?” Everett asked.
The doctor’s attention was on the images across the screens. “I have to accept that she is a part of the weaker population.”
Everett shook his head. “I can’t accept that.” At the doctor’s questioning look, Everett gestured toward the screen. “Your theory is wrong, Doctor. If we’re the viruses and the wendigo the anti-virus, why can my bite kill it so effectively? Perhaps it’s the other way around.”
Dr. Transton was quiet for a few minutes. His gaze continued to linger on the screens, but it was obvious his mind was on Everett’s words.
“If that’s the case,” he finally said, his voice solemn. “Then humankind needs you now more than ever.”
“Why is that?” Everett asked.
Dr. Transton pointed at a screen near the ceiling.
Everett followed his finger and his heart gave a painful thump. Wendigo, dozens of them, massed near one of the walls of Nectaris. DRAK soldiers were spread out along the top of the wall firing in to the fray, but their bullets didn’t appear to hurt the wendigo. The black creatures dug at the wall, tearing out huge chunks. They worked all along the north end. If the DRAK couldn’t figure out how to stop them, they would eventually get through.
“There’s so many,” Everett said. Fighting one had nearly killed him. The dozens that faced the city could have been millions for the enormity it felt. How could he defeat them all?
“You can’t handle them by yourself,” Dr. Transton said, reading his thoughts.
“I’m the only vampire I know of,” Everett replied.
“I know of many more.” The doctor’s mouth twisted as if admitting such a thing filled him with unpleasant memories.
A thought struck Everett. “The one who bit Monique.”
Dr. Transton nodded. “Him, among others. There’s a city.”
“A vampire city?” Everett asked in disbelief.
The doctor hesitated. “I guess it’s more of a community than a city, but it’s inhabited by vampires, yes.”
The fact that there were more vampires made the image of the wendigo on the screen feel less ominous. Everett nodded. “Great, then let’s go get them to help!”
Dr. Transton shook his head. “There’s no way a human can go there, and there’s no guarantee they’ll help. Vampires have been shunned by humanity since almost the day they were discovered. I’m not sure they’ll hurry to save Nectaris or any of the Pentagrin.”
“We have to try,” Everett pointed out.
Dr. Transton turned to him, his hands clasped behind his back. “You have to try.”
Everett thought of a thousand arguments, but all of them died away. Asking a human to go to a vampire community would certainly be playing with fire, especially if they were outside of the Pentagrin. He had never heard of such a place, so any assumption that they would follow the Kingship’s laws was ridiculous.
The reality of the situation was sobering. “I have to go by myself.”
Dr. Transton shook his head. “I’d recommend taking Adrielle and Vanguard with you. I’ve already asked Horace to fill them in on where you’re going. I don’t know what you’ll come up against in the forest, but they have skills that should assist you should you need it.”
Everett’s first impulse was to deny their help, but he di
dn’t know what he would find when he reached the vampires. “Will it be safe for them?”
“Nectaris won’t be safe for them if you fail,” Dr. Transton said. He watched Everett closely. “I’ve asked myself why you were brought here. I haven’t seen a vampire in years, and now you’ve made it possible for me to see that my biases have damaged my way of thinking. This is more important than I can express. We’ve seen the destruction one wendigo can do. If they all get into the city...” His words died away.
“I know,” Everett answered. “I’ll leave tonight.” He hesitated. “Can I talk to my family first?”
The doctor gave him a small smile. “Son, you’re fourteen. You should probably let them know where you’re going. But they’re not going to be happy about it,” he warned.
Everett nodded. “I can handle it.”
“Good.” Dr. Transton nodded with visible relief. “You’re doing us all a favor. The fate of the five cities rests on your shoulders.”
“No pressure, huh?” Everett asked.
The doctor smiled. “No pressure.”
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open.
“We’re ready,” Adrielle announced, strolling inside with Vanguard.
“Let’s get these beasts taken care of,” Vanguard said. He tipped his hat at the doctor. “And the wendigo, too.”
Everett rolled his eyes at the warlock.
“Be careful,” the doctor warned them. “It’s not safe beyond the wall. Do you have your weapons?”
“Check,” Adrielle said.
“Check,” Vanguard echoed.
“What weapons?” Everett asked.
Vanguard gave a knowing wink. “You’ll see.”
The magician’s answer annoyed Everett to no end. He let out a slow breath. “Fine. Let’s go.”
“Let me know as soon as you’re back,” Dr. Transton said. “Horace will keep an eye on you as long as he can, but his eyes have their limits. Small wings, you know.”
Everett led the way through the streets. He felt as if there were eyes on him from every alley and shadow, and none of them were friendly. He had never felt so unsafe in his own city, and he didn’t like it at all.