Blood of the Forsaken

by David Horrocks

  Tommy placed the truck back into park, resigning to the fact that they wouldn't be moving again any time soon. “We’ll never find them like this…” He punched the horn out of frustration, causing it to sound loudly as he started a wave of similar behaviour. It wasn't long before road rage swept through the line of traffic.

  Aaron chuckled lightly at his friend's antics. “Feeling any better?” There was no reply from Tommy, but the question had been rhetorical anyway. With a loud sigh, Aaron made himself as comfortable as possible. With cabin fever beginning to set in, boredom was sure to follow.

  Without warning, Tommy wound down his window and stuck his head outside to yell at the other drivers. “Come on, let’s fuckin’ move!”

  An impressively quick reply came from a loud mouthed man caught somewhere behind them in the line. “Shut your pie hole, jackass!”

  It was the type of aggressive social situation that Tommy revelled in, his own response spilling from his mouth without a second thought. “Right back at ya, douchebag!” He pulled his head back in, shaking his head with a slight grin. “Goddamn city traffic...”

  Aaron felt relieved as it looked like everything was back to normal for now, or at least what passed for normal in the daily life of a hunter. He wasn't sure that events would go so smoothly once Christie was thrown back into the mix, but he would cross that bridge when it came to it. For now, he would just be content with getting out of the truck.

  **********

  “Did you believe that you could get away from me?” The strong, Caribbean accent caught Sam off guard, but the man’s words were not difficult to understand. Sitting upon a carved wooden chair as if it was some sort of grand throne, he made sure to enunciate his words so that they were clear to those whom he was addressing. The message behind them was a thinly veiled threat, with a promise of dreadful things to come.

  Christie didn't hesitate to plead with their captor, her hands pressed against the floor as she looked up from where she was kneeling. “Please, TJ… Sam has nothing to do with this. Let him g…”

  Her attempt at reasoning with the man only served to anger him further, causing him to stand as he slammed a fist into his open palm. “Silence! I will be the one to decide who is involved and who is not! You have no say in the matter!”

  Christie fell silent, not wanting to bring TJ’s wrath down upon them. Cowering close by her side, Sam recalled what she had said in regards to what had happened to Jacko the last time she was here and he immediately understood her concerns. Their captor's fit of rage seemed to pass quickly as he paused for a moment before lowering himself back into his chair, his large fur coat draping over the arms and making it appear as though he was floating. The coat’s fabric was made up of various different animals, both domestic and exotic, all stitched together to make a patchwork of death that he seemed to pride himself on.

  An orange glow, originating from the burning embers within twin braziers that sat adjacent to each side of the throne, accentuated the shape of TJ’s face, giving him a sinister appearance that filled Sam with fear. Thick dreadlocks framed his gaunt and bony features, with a wicked grin beneath that was constructed more from gold than anything else. “I own you both now. You cannot leave Miami without my permission.”

  The man underneath the massive coat fancied himself a lord of sorts, his bare chest adorned with a circular, gold medallion that had been encrusted with an impressive array of sparkling rubies. Similarly styled rings encircled each finger, some of them displaying different jewels such as emeralds and black diamonds. From what Sam could see, he didn't appear to be carrying any weapons, but judging by the number of armed men outside, TJ felt that he didn't need to protect himself as he had so many others to do it for him.

  Pointing at Christie with a long, skeletal finger, the man spoke in a tone that was full of accusation. “You stole from me... I cannot abide that. The debt was paid in part by the death of your friends, but you still owe me so much more.”

  Sam couldn't bring himself to look up at TJ as he prepared to pass judgement on them, his eyes instead darting around the room as he took in his surroundings and desperately tried to find a way out. The room itself wasn't quite as grand as he had imagined for someone who held himself in such high regard, with a smooth, concrete floor and minimal decorations. The flames from the braziers were so bright that they hurt his eyes in the dark, making it difficult to see the outlying walls. He suspected that the place was kept bare in order to make cleanups easier, as he had noticed the floor sloping down towards a rusted grate that lay central to the room. Whatever his surroundings lacked in grandeur, TJ's appearance and demeanor had more than made up for it.

  The carved throne rested on a wooden platform barely higher than a foot, with an assortment of skulls bordering the edge of it in a gruesome display. Amongst the collection of bone, there were some that were easily identifiable as human in origin, while others seemed to belong to beasts that Sam had never laid eyes on before. His attention was drawn towards one of the larger skulls that looked to be canine in appearance, but it was far too large to belong to any dog, wolf or coyote that he had ever seen, its empty eye sockets staring at him with a hunger that persisted from beyond the grave.

  Sam's mind flashed back to the creature he had seen in the woods outside of Calgary, the enlarged head and red eyes peering at him from the dark. Perhaps he had actually seen a wolf big enough to own such a skull after all, but it was difficult to believe that a beast so large could actually exist, even though he had witnessed it with his own two eyes.

  TJ’s continued monologue dragged Sam’s attention back to where he was sitting, the outline of his shape seeming to shift unnaturally under the flickering light of the flames. “I should have expected such betrayal from you, 'Entropy’. After all, you killed your own maker and my good friend. I should have ended your pitiful existence right then and there. You have been living on borrowed time.”

  TJ wasn't a tall man, nor was he heavy in weight or very muscular at all. In fact, he was noticeably scrawny in build, with his ribs visible as they poked out from underneath his dark skin. Despite his surprisingly small stature, he had an imposing presence that made him seem larger than life, with piercing eyes that were wide and full of madness.

  Waiting somewhere just out of sight, hidden just behind where Sam and Christie were kneeling, the Huntsman remained close by. His massive form towered over them as he stood motionless like a statue, awaiting a signal from his master. He was so quiet that Sam wouldn't have known he was there if it hadn't been for the fact that he was the one who had brought them before TJ to face judgement. Akoni had forced them both to their knees with a strength so immense that it was impossible to resist, and he remained ready to carry out whatever order came next.

  TJ leaned forwards to get a better look at the pair of them, resting his forearms on his knees for support. “Now, what should I do with you?” He sat there in silence for a moment longer, seeming to weigh up options as he assessed the situation.

  Overcome with a fear so intense that it left him feeling desperate, Sam couldn't hold back any longer. He spoke out of turn as he raised his voice and tried his best to bargain for their lives. “You already took our money and our friends from us... We have nothing more to give you!”

  TJ glared at Sam, but stayed silent, allowing him to continue with feigned interest. Becoming increasingly frustrated with his own helplessness, Sam felt as though he had nothing to lose, as both him and Christie had been doomed the moment they had been marched through the door. “You have everything we own... We have to be even now. Please, just let us go!”

  A simple nod from the man upon the throne was all the signal Akoni needed to place his oversized foot on Sam's back. The sheer force behind it took Sam by surprise and caused him to release a pained grunt as he was pushed down into the concrete. TJ broke out into hysterics, laughing hard as he seemed to take a perverse pleasure in watching them suffer. He rose to his feet, approaching the edge of the pla
tform to look down upon the two poor souls who had been dragged before him.

  TJ pointed at Christie and Sam in turn with a finger so thin that it was a wonder that the gold ring on it stayed put. “No, there is still more for me to take. Do not ever presume that I cannot strip more from you for as long as the flesh is still upon your bones.”

  Sam felt physically inferior and weak under the sole of the Huntsman’s shoe, but his willful mind hadn't given up yet. Despite the terror that he felt at being left powerless, he hadn't yet given up hope. He struggled to tilt his head to look up at TJ, channeling his terror into a defiance that burned like a fire in his eyes. “You have nothing to gain from keeping us here... Just let us go!”

  The Huntsman’s foot pressed down like a lead weight on Sam’s back, his ribs in danger of cracking under the pressure. He tried his best to keep his composure, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of him crying out in agony.

  The look of amusement on TJ’s face faded and was replaced with one of contempt. “You have no authority here, boy! My word, and my word alone, is law!”

  Christie looked horrified as she watched helplessly from where she was still kneeling. Sam could hear her whispering to him, begging for him to keep his mouth shut, but he had already gone too far to stop now. “Well your word isn't worth much is it? You murdered our friends in cold blood!”

  To Sam’s surprise, TJ didn't come back with a retort, instead turning away to return to his throne, the fur of his long coat trailing behind him. A dismissive wave of his hand came with a final command as he placed himself back down upon his throne. His eyes stared directly at the Huntsman, ignoring Sam entirely, the loudmouthed captive no longer worth his precious time. “Akoni, take them to the pit. They decided their fate the moment they betrayed me.”

  The pit. Something about the name evoked a sense of mystery and foreboding. The fear of the unknown was something that TJ seemed to use to his advantage.

  As soon as Sam felt the weight lifting from his back he began to struggle, refusing to make the Huntsman’s job easy. He tried to push himself up, getting ready to face TJ on his feet instead of from where he lay the ground. “Take me, but let Christie go! I'll stay in her place!” He took a brave, yet foolhardy step towards the platform, a move that caused Christie to call out to him in a panic.

  “Sam, don't! You'll only make it worse!” It was far too late for her warning. Before Sam could gain another inch, the Huntsman had moved on him. The last thing that he felt was a dull pressure on the back of his neck before he was plunged into darkness. He was caught unaware, unable to bear witness to whatever happened next. It seemed that things had gotten much worse.

  Chapter Twenty: Waiting for the dawn.

  Never in his entire life, nor his existence since, had Sam wondered what it would feel like to have his neck broken. However, now he knew without a doubt that it hurt like hell and was an unpleasant sensation to say the least. Fortunately for him, such a fracture was only temporary, and although it still ached, he wasn't going to suffer any permanent damage. Or at least that's what he hoped. Waking up from a particularly deep slumber, he felt the same dull sensation in his neck that he had felt when he lost consciousness, but this time it was accompanied by shooting pains in his head and throughout his entire body.

  “Ow…” Sam sat himself up, resting his back against a hard surface behind him as he found himself slumped down upon a solid slab of concrete that made up the floor.

  “Sam! Are you okay? I was worried… The Huntsman almost crushed your spine.” The soothing tone of Christie's voice was a welcome sound, but he could clearly tell that she was distressed and had been concerned for his well being.

  Rubbing his temples, Sam felt as though he had been hit by a bus. “I think so… I was kind of hoping that splitting headaches were a thing of the past. A human thing, you know?”

  Christie chuckled softly. “No, we still feel pain.”

  Sam took a few seconds to look around in the darkness of the concrete walled room to see that he was in some sort of cell, with an open air ceiling blocked by a heavy, rebar cage. He could see the stars in the night sky beyond, partially obstructed by passing clouds.

  Sam didn't need a mirror to know that his expression was one of puzzlement as he replied. “I noticed…” Making an attempt to stand, he found that his body wouldn't respond to his commands without being afflicted by incapacitating spasms of agony.

  Christie gasped. “Don't try to move! You'll just end up hurting yourself more.” Her voice rang out, echoing around the cell as if she was right next to him, yet she was nowhere to be seen. Wherever she was, she was close enough to be heard, but she sounded odd, as if her voice had been altered by some seriously strange acoustics.

  A thin hand, covered in thick, grey dust, almost startled Sam as it poked out of a small hole in the wall, barely large enough to fit an arm. The chipped nails were mere inches from his face and yet he didn't feel threatened as he quickly recognised the tattooed forearm. Gently taking Christie’s hand, he felt a reassuring squeeze that let him know that whatever he was going through, she was right there with him. As bad as things had gotten, they were still together and there was always the chance that they could still get out of this. The touch of her soft, cold skin gave him a sense of renewed hope.

  Sam smiled softly, his face still twisted as he was wracked with pain. “Where are we?”

  Christie’s hand gently squeezed once more before releasing its comforting grasp and disappearing back into the hole. “TJ called it the pit… His description seems pretty accurate. My guess is it's part of an old construction site. A basement maybe?”

  Slowly turning his head to examine his surroundings, Sam concluded that Christie had been right in her assumption. The unfinished walls and exposed rebar definitely gave off the impression that the place was an unfinished basement or maybe even the foundation of a building that had barely been started before a lack of funding or maybe something else entirely had forced the work to stop.

  Checking his pockets, Sam discovered that they had been emptied of all belongings, leaving nothing but lint behind. Feeling disgruntled, his gaze followed the high walls back up to the rebar cage above, the silver glow of moonlight shining through and letting him know that freedom was just beyond his reach. “Did you try calling for help?”

  Christie’s response took the tone of someone who had almost given up hope. “Yes, but I don't think anyone could hear me. Wherever we are, there's no one around.”

  Sam tried to brainstorm some other ideas. “Do you think we can climb out?”

  There was a short pause before Christie responded, but he could hear her pacing over hard concrete. “I already tried… I can get up there, I just can't get out.”

  Sam rested a hand against the rough surface of the wall. “Then we break out? The walls might have weak points.”

  Christie’s footsteps ceased and she forced a sigh. “I tried that too… They're reinforced with steel. There's a reason TJ put us down here.”

  Attempting to shift himself closer to the hole, Sam’s body screamed out in agony, begging for him to stop. He continued to push through the physical discomfort until he was in position, but was again left feeling vulnerable and useless. He waited for the bout of pain to end before prefacing his next sentence with a grimace. “There has to be a way out of here!”

  Sam could see through the hole now, his forehead resting against the wall just above the opening for support. He could see Christie standing in the centre of her own cell, her hands hanging loosely by her sides as she stared down a fist sized crater in the wall. The concrete around it had been pounded to a fine dust that exposed the steel rods lining the cell walls, the same powder covering both her arms and clothing.

  Sam muttered to himself, realising that his companion had already tried her best to escape and had failed miserably. “So we’re stuck here… Great. We may as well be in Alcatraz.”

  Tilting her head upwards to look out at the sky, Sam wa
tched as Christie basked in the light of the moon. It had already started to fade, an early sign that the night was coming to an end and that dawn would soon be upon them. As she closed her eyes, Sam remained silent, observing as her pale skin seemed to glow, a striking contrast with the pitch black of her dyed hair.

  Christie looked different somehow. Weaker. She was delicate and fragile, a far cry from her usual self and Sam could tell that she had expended too much blood trying to find a way out. He could sense Christie's weakness, the predator inside him coiling up, ready to strike. It must have been how she felt when he lay there unconscious and she too began to starve. His own hunger was starting to get the best of him, and he thirsted for blood, her blood. Whatever she had left inside her.

  Before Sam could say or do anything, Christie opened her eyes and turned to face him with a faint smile overrun by a sadness that left him feeling guilty for the thoughts that his instincts had placed in his head. Her voice wavered, lips quivering as she spoke with sorrow. “Sam… I'm so sorry…”

  Confused by her words, Sam raised his eyebrows. “Sorry? For what?”

  Christie slowly approached, taking her time to respond as he peered at her through the hole in the concrete. “I’m sorry for getting you into this mess… You're here because of me. A direct consequence of my actions.” She sat herself down on the other side, leaning against the wall as she positioned her head next to the opening.