by Amy Cross
I shake my head. "He's dead," I tell him.
"You lie!"
"He chose to die," I continue. "I was there. He burned."
"He chose to die?" Gothos says, as if the idea shocks him. "What kind of fool would choose to die? Death is nothingness. A chasm of non-existence. It's inconceivable that any vampire would be so cowardly as to do such a thing."
"My father was different," I reply. So far, Gothos seems fairly harmless, and it's clear that his mind is kind of scattered and vague. Still, I'm worried that he's only going to get stronger. I guess I just have to trust that the Rasmussen and the Strix were right to bring him back, and that his mind will become stronger once he's recovered from the journey. After all, from his perspective, it has only been a few seconds since he was in the middle of the vampire war.
"And so you decided to free me?" he says, shuffling back toward me. "You, of all people, the daughter of the one who turned against me, decided to use your own blood to bring me back?" He wipes a patch of blood from the side of his mouth. "Your blood reached me in there, you know. In the bridge between the old world and the new. That's what woke me. You have enough of your father to still make me angry."
"This wasn't my idea," I say, trying to stay calm. "I just helped. The others were responsible. Rasmussen, and the Strix... They're the ones you should thank. Not me."
"Is this true?" Gothos says, turning and walking over to Rasmussen. "Are you the one who commanded my release?"
"I merely sought to bring back our rightful ruler," Rasmussen says, not daring to look up at his master. "The Strix assisted in gathering the necessary blood, although in the end we were able to avail ourselves of a much more potent mixture. Now we stand ready to assist you in any way you deem necessary."
"First I must show my strength," Gothos mutters, as if momentarily distracted. "I must show the Strix that I am their ruler, that they must follow no other." With that, slowly opens his mouth to reveal a pair of fangs, before leaning closer to Rasmussen and biting down hard into Rasmussen' neck. Although Rasmussen tries to fight back, he's easily subdued and Gothos holds him tight as he drains more and more of his blood. Finally, with Rasmussen having become deathly pale, Gothos drops his dead body to the ground and wipes a little excess blood from his lips, before turning to me. "Tell me," he continues, sounding considerably stronger and less frail, "what is the dominant species on this world?"
"Humans," I reply, unable to stop staring at Rasmussen' corpse. My heart is racing, and I'm starting to wonder if Gothos has lost his mind.
"Humans," he whispers. "Really? Have those pathetic beasts really managed to string together a civilization? I would have though they must have been overrun by now. It would have been nice to have faced a challenge upon my return, but I suppose there is some pleasure in sweeping aside such a weak foe. First, though, there is a war to be won."
"The war is over," I tell him.
"Over?" He frowns. "No, the war is most certainly not over, not until I deem it to be so."
"All your enemies are dead," I continue. "My father ended the war and -"
"No-one can end the war," he replies. "The vampires have fought for centuries, and they will continue to fight until both sides are satisfied."
"Your enemies are dead," I say again, starting to realize that Gothos still seems confused. "Whoever they were, they died long ago. You're the only one who has been brought back!"
"I'm the only one who's needed," he replies. "The war was never about anyone else. Did your father never tell you why he became so angry with me? He discovered the truth. He realized that I controlled both sides in the war. I ordered one army to attack, and another to defend. It was an experiment, a civil war in which both sides were controlled by one great mind for the benefit of the vampire race. I used the war as a means of testing and developing the vampire species, but I most certainly never called an end to the hostilities."
"You fought a war against yourself?" I ask, as the scales of madness begin to fall from his eyes. "Two armies, both under your control?"
"The perfect war," he says with a smile. "Endless and chaotic, but with so much promise. There's still much to do, though. I'll need two more armies. We can use humans at first, but eventually we shall need to draw in the other species -"
"The war is over!" I say firmly.
"The Strix will fight for me," he continues, stepping over Rasmussen' body and turning to address the vast church. "I shall divide them into two groups, and they will continue the war for my benefit. I still have so much to do, so many experiments to pursue before I'm ready to bring the war to an end." He turns to me. "You will fight too. As the daughter of Patrick, you will most certainly have many great qualities. Tell me, who is your mother? Cassandra? Diana?"
I stare at him for a moment. "Sophie," I say eventually.
"Who?"
"A human."
"Did Patrick stoop so low?" he asks. "I know the prophecy foretold such an event, but I never believed..." He pauses. "No matter. You will still fight, even if your human side prevents you from being truly strong. I only wish that your father could be here to see this moment. I know he doubted me, at the end. He believed the war to be a bad thing, and he worked to stop it. I never understood his cowardice."
"My father was no coward," I say firmly. "He wanted the war to end because he was sick of all the suffering. He believed the vampire race had become bitter and twisted. He wanted it all to start again, with a new chance and a new hope."
"He was a fool," Gothos snarls, "but it doesn't matter. Not now." He shuffles toward me, and it's clear now that his anger and madness have grown during his time spent in the bridge. "First, however, I shall need a new body. This one has served me well, but it seems to be falling apart." Reaching out, he places a hand on my shoulder. "I'll take yours."
"I always thought Gothos was a great man," I say, backing away from him. "That's what everyone said. You went down in history as a scholar and as a defender of the vampire cause."
"I was," he replies, taking another step toward me, "but such a man could never lead the vampires. Not forever. I needed to change, to become more powerful, so I did what was necessary. Look at me now, Abigail. I'm ready to start the war again. It's the only way I can truly learn how our species should progress."
"By watching us murder each other?" I ask.
"You have no right to question me," he continues. "I need your body, and as my loyal subject, you are compelled to provide it to me. If it's any consolation, I shall allow a part of your consciousness to remain, so that you can witness the next stage of the war. Eventually, I'm sure you'll come to understand that this is the only way forward for the vampire race."
"No," I say, "it's not the way forward. It's the way back to a time when we were consumed by war and death."
"You're like your father," he replies, "but weaker, infected with human blood. My mind will burn through your body in a matter of days, but I should still like to occupy your flesh for a short while. And if you won't give it to me by choice, I shall have to take it by force." With that, he rushes at me, grabbing my arm and pulling me closer before finally sinking his teeth into my neck.
Mark Gregory
"Abby!" I shout, watching as her body seems to fall limp in his arms. She tries to push him away, but he's too strong, and finally she turns to look at me. All I see in his eyes is fear and sorrow.
For a moment, I can't stop thinking back to the moment when Hoskins was killed by the creature in Afghanistan; in my mind's eye, I see the blood pouring from his neck. I can't let that happen again. Last time, I doubted my sanity, but this time I know what I'm seeing.
Pulling free from the grip of the creatures, I manage to get my gun from its holster. I figure I need to give Abby a chance, to find some way of helping her, and right now the only thing I can do is try to cause a distraction. Turning, I aim at one of the windows and fire. As the glass shatters and a wall of blood bursts down toward me, I turn and fire at another window, and another,
until finally a huge wall of blood comes crashing down into the church.
Abby Hart
Just as I'm starting to slip away, I realize that there's a roaring sound nearby. I try to focus, and finally I see that blood is pouring into the church from the broken windows. For a moment, it seems as if this is just another sign that the end is near, but finally I realize that I have one final chance to put everything right. Gothos should never have been resurrected, and I should never have let myself get drawn into this mess. Summoning the last of my strength, I push Gothos away, feeling his fangs slip out of the holes in my neck.
"You have to go back," I say, seeing the shock in his eyes. "History records you as a good man, Gothos. A kind and wise man. But most importantly, a dead man."
"I can't die," he replies, as the church continues to fill with blood, which is now reaching the top of the steps that lead up to the altar. He tries to grab me, but his body is getting weaker and he stumbles against the altar. "Your father tried to kill me, and I escaped death. As a vampire, it's your duty to lay down your life in order to help me! What makes you think that you, with only half his strength and with the rest of your body infected by human blood, could ever kill me? "
"Because I'm willing to do the one thing that even my father didn't consider," I say, taking a step toward him as the blood continues to rise. "Because a bridge works both ways, and because only a human would be willing to make the ultimate sacrifice." Grabbing his arm, I start to pull him over to the remains of the sphere, where the embers of the bridge are still burning even as the tide of blood rises higher and higher, threatening to fill the church to the roof. "You're going back where you belong," I tell him. "You're going back to the past, to the war that ended all those years ago, and this time I'm going to seal the bridge so you can never come back."
He tries to pull away from me, but I can already feel that the strength is leaving his body. He needs a new form, but he's too weak to take it by force. All he can do is try desperately to get free from my grip, even as the blood continues to rise around our ankles, flowing into the shattered heart of the granite sphere. I don't even know how this is supposed to work, and as I reach the center of the sphere, I stare directly into the bright white light of the bridge. If Gothos traveled through this thing to get here, hopefully I can send him back the way he came.
"You're a child," Gothos whispers, his strength ebbing away as his body continues to fail. "Let me help you. I just need a body. It doesn't have to be yours. Any body will do. Together, we can bring glory back to the vampire race. Maybe I made mistakes, but I learned so much from the war. Help me, and I'll help you." He stares at me, as if he's waiting for me to give him everything he wants. "You have to help me!" he screams, reaching up and trying to grab my neck. "You have to save me!"
"Why?" I ask. "So you can continue the war?"
"You need me," he splutters. "I can feel the fear in your heart. You need me to guide you and show you how to live. You all need me!"
"You're scared," I say, finally realizing what drove him mad. "You thought you'd live forever, and now you realize you can die. That's what this is about. It's not about the vampire race. It's about an old man facing up to the fact that his life is going to end. You're -" Before I can finish, there's a crashing sound nearby, and I turn to see that the fast-flowing river of blood has knocked one of the church's pillars away. There's an ominous rumbling sound from above, and it's clear that the whole place is going to collapse at any moment.
"Abby!" Mark calls out, trying to wade toward me through the blood. "We have to get out of here!"
"I need to stay!" I shout back at him. "I need to make sure he dies!"
"I'll never die!" Gothos screams, but there's panic in his voice now as he tries once again to grab my neck.
"Get out of here!" I shout at Mark. "There's no need for you to be here! You can't do anything, so just get out while you still can!"
"Not without you!" he shouts, but as he tries to reach me, there's another crashing sound as a second pillar is washed away. Blood is still rushing through the windows, and the church is filling up faster and faster. Above, the ceiling seems to be groaning again, with the pillars no longer in place to support the weight of the building. The whole place is going to collapse at any moment, but I need to make sure Gothos goes back where he belongs.
"You'll never be strong," Gothos whispers. "You're weak, Abigail. You're scared to embrace your strength, and you'd rather let yourself die than allow yourself to live. The war -"
"The war's over," I say, finally placing my hands on his shoulders and sinking my teeth into his neck. I feel his blood flowing into my body, but although his mind is trying to follow, I force him to stay in his own weak, shattered form. He struggles, trying to force me away, but there's nothing he can do, even as he's filled with panic over his own impending death. Finally, as I feel the last of his blood flow into my body, I realize that his mind has gone. Slowly, I slip my fangs from his neck and turn to see that Mark is standing just a few meters away, staring at me in abject horror.
Determined to ensure that Gothos is lost forever, I force his body into the heart of the light, and finally he slips from my hands, dropping back through the bridge. As I stare into the heart of the brightness, I spot the faintest outline of a figure grabbing Gothos and pulling him further and further away. Finally, the bridge flares and dies, quickly dwindling to nothing more than a pinprick of light that soon fades away. It's over. Gothos has been sent back to the heart of the vampire war.
"Abby -"
Turning to Mark, I find that he's just a few meters away. My first instinct is to bare my fangs and hiss at him, but just as I'm about to reach out and grab him, I manage to calm myself. Taking a step back, I'm struck by the horror in his eyes. He's finally seen the real me, and he clearly thinks that I'm a monster. Maybe he's right.
Before he can say anything else, there's a massive cracking sound from above. I look up just in time to see that the entire ceiling is giving way and the empty church from above is crashing down. I let go of Gothos' body and reach out to grab Mark, but it's too late and a massive piece of masonry lands between us, splashing into the sea of blood just as another of the pillars falls directly on top of me. I'm crushed beneath the surface of the blood, and although I desperately try to get free, I realize after a moment that I'm pinned down by some of the collapsed rubble. Seconds later, I hear a huge rumble as the rest of the church collapses all around me.
Mark Gregory
I call out to her, desperately climbing over the pieces of fallen masonry that have crashed into the blood-filled lower church. Smaller pieces are still falling, but I can't just turn and leave without trying to find her. I have no idea whether she can survive something like this, and I know that I'm risking my life, but there's no way I'm going to leave her here.
"Abby!" I shout again, as I slip back down into the blood, which has become so deep that it's almost up to my neck. Finally realizing that she must be trapped somewhere beneath the surface, I take a deep breath and try to fill my lungs, before diving down into the blood. When I open my eyes, I find that I can't see anything, so I resort to reaching out, desperately hoping that I might by chance manage to get hold of her. It's a forlorn hope, of course, but I keep trying until eventually I'm forced to return to the surface and get more air.
She has to be here somewhere.
Filling my lungs again, I go back below the surface, blindly feeling the gaps between sunken pieces of masonry, hoping that by sheer good luck I might suddenly feel a hand or an arm, anything that would allow me to pull her clear. After what feels like an eternity, however, I have to return to the surface, gasping for air. There's clearly no chance of finding her, but I decide to make one final try, so I head back down. She could be anywhere in this mess, and after a couple of minutes I realize that if I go any further, I'm in danger of getting trapped down here. I spend a few more seconds frantically trying to find her, but eventually I turn and try to get back to the s
urface, only to find that my way is blocked. I don't know whether a new piece of masonry has fallen, or whether I've simply become disorientated, but I can't find my way back up. I struggle to force my way through, but finally I feel blood starting to pour into my mouth, and I begin to sink.
Just as I'm losing consciousness, however, I feel a hand grab my arm, gripping me tight and starting to pull me up toward the surface. I open my eyes, and for a moment all I can see is the blood that surrounds me, until finally we break the surface and I see Abby staring back at me, her eyes filled with shock as her mouth hangs open, exposing two sharp white fangs.
Abby Hart
"Did you hear about that church?" Katie asks, as she carries a large electron microscope toward the storage room. "I went past it today on the bus, and it was just like one of those sinkholes had opened up right under it."
"Yeah," I say, being careful to sound as if I'm not really paying attention. "I think I saw it on the news."
"I was talking to this friend last night," Katie continues, pausing to lift her leg and clumsily kick the door handle until it turns, "and she said she knows someone who was part of the team that was sent in to make the site safe, and there were these puddles of blood at the bottom, and a hole like maybe there'd been more blood and it had drained away underground."
"Sounds a little hard to believe," I mutter, focusing on the slides I'm supposed to be checking.
"I was gonna ask Detective Gregory about it," she continues, "but I couldn't find him anywhere. Do you know if he's off sick or something?"
"No idea," I reply.
"Maybe he's -"
"I don't know where he is," I say firmly, on the verge of losing control and telling her to get out.
"But do you think it could be true about the church?" she asks as she disappears into the storage room for a moment. There's a banging sound, and finally she emerges without the microscope. "I was just thinking about that case we had last week, with the bodies and the blood, and -"