by SARA FREITES
My jaw dropped. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. “Oh my God,” was all I could say.
“His true demon form,” Blake confirmed.
Where was Latresma? What time was it? My mind couldn't be silenced. I worried my rebirth wouldn't take place in time to save our lives. Arlos would have slaughtered us both before midnight, and even Latresma would perish. Then, my mind took me somewhere else. What if midnight had already passed? What if Latresma's promise to return was nothing more than a plan she’d only hoped she could carry out? There was no way we could fight off Arlos’ monstrous form alone. The only thing I could think about now was how painful our deaths were going to be.
Terrifying, shrieking noises bellowed from Arlos. It was like several other creatures where in the room with us, howling and squawking like ungodly wounded animals all at once. I cringed from the unsettling sounds and covered my ears. Blake flipped the sister daggers once in his hands—the gold Soleil Dagger in his left, the silver Lumière Dagger in his right, both blade’s facing backward.
“I have to buy us more time,” Blake said. “I know your guardian spell won’t last long right now, but you need to use it until midnight. It will keep you healing and protected. Float back and forth between forms. Every time you fall out of it, recast it, and don’t stay in one place for too long.”
“Don’t you need my help?” I asked, concerned.
“This isn’t going to be anything like our fight with Vex and Scythe,” he warned. “You can’t control when your spell wears off. It’s too dangerous for you.”
“But what about you? What if—”
“Just worry about yourself, Autumn. Stay back no matter what,” he demanded.
The hellish noises ceased, and Arlos released a roar so intense I could feel it in my chest. He rushed at us. I whispered the guardian incantation and began to transform. Blake lunged for the demon with both daggers out at his sides. Arlos tossed one of his massive clawed paws up to block Blake’s attack. Blake dodged Arlos’ claws and rolled over the demon’s long arm. He hammered the hilt of the Lumière Dagger into Arlos’ seemingly vacant eye socket.
The demon jerked away. Blake used the velocity of his attack to leap into the air and land on the other side of Arlos. He slashed at the giant being with the daggers. All the while, Arlos used his long, thick claws to defend himself against the daggers’ blades. He blocked every blow Blake delivered. They fought that way, back and forth, and it became obvious right away that Arlos was toying with him. Even in this form, I could see a change of expression on Arlos’ face when Blake paused from exhaustion.
“You’ve never fought so diligently, Soul,” Arlos observed, his voice deep and loud, raw as if his vocal cords had rotted out. “I’m very impressed. Maybe you just needed a good reason. When you find someone to protect, it’s hard not to fight for them.”
“What would you know about that?” Blake argued. “You’re so full of shit.”
“I protected you when we first brought you in,” Arlos defended himself. “I had to protect you from everything that wasn’t real and true, from anyone who would misuse you.”
“Misuse me?” Blake questioned. “Like you did? That’s all you ever saw me as—someone to use.”
Blake dove in on Arlos with the daggers. The fight moved in close to me. I tried to dart out of their way, but Arlos turned his attention to me, swatting at me. I leapt into the air just out of his reach and bounced off of his shoulder. My claws racked through his wiry fur. He reached for me again, but I latched onto the nearest chandelier. Arlos pursued. Blake intervened. He sprang into the air between us. Arlos withdrew from his attack on me and went for Blake instead. I could already feel my spell wearing off from me. It started with my arms. As they weakened, I fell from the chandelier.
I landed hard on my side. Immediately, I curled into a ball to avoid being crushed while Arlos’ massive body loomed over me. A little larger than me, his front left paw came to rest just beside my haunches. Arlos swiped Blake out of mid-air. The daggers dropped to the ground. Blake’s body blew through the air and into the wall of roots on the other side of the room. He stood just a few feet away from Arlos. Completely human now, I quickly moved out from under Arlos. I ran against the roots wound tight along the wall. A dull rust-colored light shone from down inside Arlos’ eye sockets. Without another minute’s pass, both daggers rose off the ground. I watched in horror when they directed their aim at Blake.
“No!” I screamed.
The daggers ran parallel to one other along the floor as they flew across the room. Each one blazed past Blake’s knees and hit the root-wall behind him, digging themselves deep. The surface of the roots splintered around the blades. This revealed more of their iridescent burgundy interior. At first, I thought the daggers had missed him until Blake collapsed to his hands and knees. I stared in awe at the amount of blood that flowed from the gashes on his legs. As Arlos trotted across the floorboards, his body shrank and distorted. By the time he got to the daggers, he’d completely returned to his human form—all except his hands. They were left as long and white jagged claws.
He yanked the daggers from the wall of roots, each blade tainted with blood. Blake struggled to get up. When his wounds didn’t instantly heal, I knew we were about to lose this fight. Arlos faced me before holding the daggers out in each of his hands.
And then, it happened.
The daggers began to glow. Right away, each blade warped and bent toward one another. Arlos stopped to take them in. The bloodstained daggers stretched across the space between them, touching as the glow they produced dimmed. The demon lifted them as if they were his most prized possessions, then his face contorted with confusion. His clawed hands came together as the daggers did, back to back to form one, unified sword. The blade stretched wide at the base, darkening to a near black with a glimmering red tint. The hilt protruded long and straight, mostly leather-bound with Celtic metal carvings in the middle. There, like droplets of blood sat two faceted crimson garnets—a third garnet embedded in the cross-guard which jutted up and out on both sides of the blade like two shimmering, metal claws. A Celtic cross adorned each “claw”. Just as Rosetta had said, Blake’s blood caused the daggers to fuse together.
“What…what is this?” Arlos asked himself as he held the massive weapon out.
Blake staggered to his feet. Blood ran down the knees of his pant legs. On the floor, it pooled around his shoes.
“The Blood Claymore,” I said to myself.
“The Blood Claymore?” Arlos repeated me in a loud, hiss-like whisper. He looked to me, visibly awestruck. “How do you know of this?” His eyes searched the ground. Then, “Rosetta,” he realized. “Enough of this!”
He shot into the air, holding the claymore high over his head. Downward, he rocketed with the sword’s point aimed at me. I threw my arms over my head in a last-ditch effort to protect myself. This was it. It was all over, and Latresma hadn’t even shown her face.
Something slammed into me. The sound of a rib cracking in my side went forgotten as Blake and I tumbled over one another. Arlos dug the blade into the floorboards where, if it weren’t for Blake, I still would’ve been. Blake and I rolled over again and again until we came to rest with him over me. We had no time to rest before Arlos was on top of us. He dropped from the air as before with the claymore aimed. Blake’s fast reaction to scoop me up in an arm and flip us over saved us.
We rolled away as Blake’s free arm whipped around and knocked the sword from Arlos’ hand. The demon dropped on all fours next to us. The sound the claymore made hitting the floor rang in my ears. I fell hard on top of Blake when Arlos lunged for us again, his clawed demon hands spread. Blake wrapped an arm around me, pushing his back off the ground with the other. He propelled us away from Arlos’ attack. We flew low as we went. In my peripheral vision, I caught sight of a table on the other side of the room as it lifted into the air. It shot in our direction and collided with us. We hit the floor and spun, tumbling again.
>
The next thing I remember, I was lying on my side. Dazed with a ringing in my ears, I struggled to focus my eyes. The ringing faded. I could hear my heart throbbing in my ears. It was slowed, missing beats. And then, it stopped. Confused, I watched as a blurry hand snatched my wrist and squeezed it, possibly checking for my pulse. My heart started beating again. I could feel it fighting to sustain a rhythm. I was dying. I hoped it meant my change would happen in just a matter of seconds.
Another blackout. When I came to this time, I was on my back. My eyesight cleared ever so slightly, and I caught a glimpse of the root-riddled double doors. We were on the other side of the room now. I wasn’t sure how long I was out, and that thought made me anxious. My eyes found two yellow and glowing orbs just over me. With blurred vision, I reached for them. The back of my fingers brushed against something soft just below the orbs. I felt a slight tickling pressure on my knuckles.
“Blake?” I asked weakly.
“I’m here,” he said into the backs of my fingers, his breath warming them.
I felt a dizziness and passed out for the third time.
“Autumn,” Blake’s destressed voice beckoned me from the emptiness.
Again, I awoke in a different part of the room, this time at the very back. With labored breathing, Blake said my name again. My vision came into focus while I lay there. I found Blake hovering over me on his hands and knees. The sound of my heartbeat faded into the background. My hand went for his arm where I gripped his elbow. A crimson line came into view just over his shoulder. It ran a course down his bicep. The warm liquid rolled over my hand, and my curious eyes followed its trail up his arm. There, I found exposed bone at his neck and shoulder, torn flesh and blood beyond that.
“Blake, you’re—” I began, worried.
A shadow appeared over us. Just past Blake’s injuries, I watched in absolute horror as Arlos drew his claws from Blake’s body. The wounds on Blake’s shoulder and neck began healing but strangely halted, leaving the gashes open and continuously bleeding.
“Blake!” I tried to warn him.
Arlos slashed at him. This time, he dug so deeply I could see his white-tipped claws protrude through Blake’s chest and stomach. Blake fell to his elbows over me, and I felt his hands become fists in my hair that lay all around me. Blood dripped from his wounds to my shirt while he struggled to hold himself above me.
“Fuck,” he quietly panted with pain racing across his face.
“Stop it! Stop hurting him!” I blurted helplessly to Arlos.
Arlos paused with his claws heavily drenched in blood. He appeared to think on it before walking away while holding in a laugh.
“He can take it,” the demon murmured. “He’s better off dead if he holds any alliance with Latresma.”
He aimlessly searched the room, undoubtedly for the claymore. I felt my insides catch fire with anger. My eyes fixated on Blake’s. They were wild with pain.
“Blake, go,” I said to him.
“I can’t fight anymore. I’m too weak,” Blake struggled to say.
“You don’t have to fight anymore. Just stay out of his way,” I pleaded. “I don’t want you to get hurt anymore. Please, go.”
Blake tore his eyes from mine. I desperately took his face in both my hands, but he wouldn’t look back at me.
“You have to go,” my voice shook through my panic. “He doesn’t want you. Okay? He just wants me…he just wants Latresma. Not you. Just stay away.”
He closed his eyes. I hoped he was considering it, but by the way he breathed and trembled, I realized he may have just been trying to bear the pain of his new injuries. Past his torn side, I found Arlos rummaging through one of the fallen chandeliers. He kicked it aside. I took hold of Blake’s arms.
“Blake, go! Just let him do what he came here to do!” I cried out. “I don’t want to see you get hurt anymore!” I tried to sit up, but he wouldn’t budge.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said breathlessly. “I have to buy you a little more time—“
“Blake, he’s going to kill you!” I cut him off.
“Better me than you,” he said and winced.
“What? No!” I shouted.
I tried to squirm out from under him, but his arms and legs were like a cage around me. I felt him lean into me to keep me from moving.
“Autumn, stop. Stop making this harder for me,” he ordered. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“No! I’m not going to let you do this!”
“Please, stop.”
“Blake, you jerk! Get away!”
A round of tears streamed swiftly down my face. I stubbornly wiped them away with the back of my hand and hit his left arm with the side of my fist as hard as I could. My hand burned from the force. It didn’t seem to faze him, and I was sure he hardly felt it.
“Please, don’t do this!” I begged through a quivering voice. “Just go!”
His brow lowered over his eyes. “Autumn, I’m not gonna leave you,” he growled sternly through his fangs.
“I don’t want to lose you!” I yelped through my cries.
My chest heaved as I tried to hold back more tears. Exhausted, I stopped struggling and let my arms fall into me like two loose ropes. I lay there under him, sobbing. I could just make out the features of his handsome face in the dim lighting. His fierce, glowing eyes pierced through me, standing out against his darkened figure. As if he thought I’d break if he’d done it any differently, he gently glided the backs of his fingers along one side of my face through my flowing tears.
“I’m sorry, Autumn,” he whispered.
The unnerving sound of scraping metal rattled my eardrums. My eyes darted to the sound over Blake’s left arm. There, Arlos skimmed the sword’s tip along the roots. The noise became louder as he neared. I closed my eyes and whispered the guardian spell. It grew silent around us. I opened my eyes, and my heart filled with disappointment. Again, I said aloud the spell, this time raising my voice. And again, nothing happened. I could feel an unbearable churning sensation arise in the pit of my stomach. My chest swelled with hopelessness. The pain of my fractured, possibly broken rib radiated throughout my left side. Arlos, now only steps away, flipped the claymore in his hand.
“Run,” I barely whimpered to Blake as I grabbed his sleeves again.
He opened his hand against the side of my head. His thumb wiped away more of my tears before he leaned in with his lips pressed against my forehead. I wept harder the longer he held me there. When he pulled away, he tensed and fell into me. He inhaled sharply as he was forced down over me. I screamed his name. A sharp object appeared from Blake’s flesh just below my eye line. I froze. Over a fourth of the claymore’s blade protruded out of his chest. If he hadn’t reached down to hold the protruding blade in place, it would have penetrated me, too. My entire being shuttered.
Arlos forced the claymore from Blake’s back and left us there with a crooked smile extending across his face. Time seemed to slow while Blake quietly gasped for air. I screamed his name again and sat up to hold him. He collapsed in my arms.
“No. No. No,” I frantically chanted. I scooped his upper body into me while cradling his head in the nook of my powdery white arms. “Blake,” I nearly choked.
I ran my hand alongside his face. I watched, horrified as his face fell blank of expression. At the same time, his chest stopped rising and falling. The color in his eyes dimmed. My now completely whitened hair fell over my shoulders and onto his chest like two motionless albescent waterfalls. And after that, nothing else moved—not him, not me, nothing around me. My racing, hardly complete thoughts died out. I don’t even remember breathing. My chest felt heavier with every passing second. I tried overcoming the flow of tears that inevitably came. But it was useless to fight them, like trying to hold back the waves of the ocean, and they crashed bright blue onto my wrist and down Blake’s collarbone. Hyperventilating, I cried hysterically and crumbled into him like a sandcastle.
I found myself fee
ling overwhelmingly weak. Arlos stood only a step away now, the claymore held tight in his right hand. I hadn’t even noticed his approach. The veins in my arms began pulsing, a glittery red hue rising in them. I started to freak out, but a peace fell over me. Subtly, breathing became a hindrance. I began feeling more content in between breaths.
And oddly, at that same time, nothing mattered to me anymore. The fact that my life as a human was ending didn’t bother me. The idea of losing everything I had in my human life felt trivial now—school, my friends, going to college, and even the thought of my family didn’t cause tears to rise. The pain of Blake’s sudden death faded away, as well. I felt indifferent about it all. As my human emotions continued slipping away, I realized that even that didn’t bother me.
I laid there, motionless on Blake’s chest. A hunger swept over my body as my exhaustion and pain dissolved. I caught a whiff of the rain outside, this time with a mixture of inhuman blood and even a subtle hint of smoke. The grandfather clock in the hallway just outside the room sounded—a muted, solemn lullaby through the front wall and roots. The core of my body went cold. My limbs felt numb, and I fell completely paralyzed. Everything around me blurred into nothingness as the hushed chiming rang in my ears. And that’s when I felt my heart stop.
Part 2
The Human Spirit
- Latresma -
I felt as though I’d awakened from a deep slumber. In a sense, I had. I hadn’t felt this way in decades—my eyes sore with blurred vision, my mind spinning with confusing thoughts and images, my body overly cumbersome and stiff as I moved.
At first, I wasn’t sure where I was. Overwhelmed, I inhaled the air, gathering information about the environment. Rain and the musk of wet earth and grass saturated my lungs. I sensed hundreds of vampires nearby alongside a scent I didn’t recognize—hundreds of other beings I’d never encountered before. A hint of smoke filled the air from just outside the building. The scent of a human came on strong, as well.