Night Kings: The Complete Anthology (25 page)

The men dragged them up to the pulpit where
the commander awaited. With his back turned to the Sunkeeper’s
chamber he now had a clear view of the hall they resided. That
meant it would only be a matter of time before his eyes were upon
the two wide-set pair of eyes at the end of the central hall.

Gemma and Elsa decided it was best to count
their blessing and get out of there alive. These men were armed,
clad in thick body armor, and if the vampires were any indication,
to be considered extremely dangerous. They pulled back from the
door and made a hasty retreat up the mountain staircase.

They thought they did the smart thing by
getting out of there when they did. They were wrong, and it was
their exit that caused suspicion to arise on the commander’s
behalf.

The faintest of noises echoed throughout the
chamber, not from his men, not from the vampires they kept in tow.
He took off his mask to reveal his bald head, bushy beard, and the
blood red eagle tattoo etched on his skull. Julian looked to his
men, and said, “Throw them in the chambers. I’ll be right
back.”

Elsa and Gemma made swift work of the
staircase this time. They rushed out the doorway and used their
combined might to seal the stone door back up. The door that led to
the outside had seen considerable weather damage and proved more
difficult for the two of them to close. They left it halfway open
and left to put some distance between themselves and the temple
they’d come so far to find.

They moved across the rocky ledges at a
frantic pace and not once did they look back at the door in the
mountain side. They should have.

“Hold it right there, ladies,” the commander
said. His view as from the scope of his rifle and it was locked on
Gemma Kohl. “You’re going to want to come back here—nice and
slow.”

The two of them looked to one another for
support, but there was none to be found in either of their
eyes.

“Now, ladies,” said Julian with a tap of his
finger on the butt of his rifle. “I’m not going to ask again.”

Unsure of their next course of action, Elsa
and Gemma had no choice but to listen to the soldier and make their
way back up the windy mountain path. Gemma knew her options were
limited. She could make a person do many things, awful things, and
she could do so with the wave of a hand.

But as she looked into the eyes of a trained
soldier, Gemma realized that he’d get a shot off before she was
halfway into her into spell. Then Elsa and she would be dead and
the secrets of the goddess’ temple lost to her people once more.
She decided to harness her powers in secret; to wait until she was
in front of him and make her move.

Elsa panicked in the middle of their journey
and pulled back from Gemma’s touch. Since the body of the reaper
she had been threatened, nearly eaten by one of her closest
friends, and attacked by an army of ghouls and their lady in red.
Now she could add being held at gunpoint to that list.

“Fine,” the commander said as he watched Elsa
hesitate before him. “Have it your way.”

He fired off a shot in Elsa’s direction. It
wasn’t meant to strike her, but Julian needed to make a point. He
wasn’t about to be played with by these two young women.

Unfortunately for the commander, this act
caused the spirit within Elsa to awaken once more. Her eyes burned
white and she raised her hands towards the alarmed commander. For
the real Elsa, the one now locked inside, it was all reactionary, a
response she couldn’t control.

Gemma could only watch in horror, and
amazement, as her best friend turned into the warrior of light
she’d only gotten a glimpse of on the farm. She watched as the
confused commander dumped a full clip into Elsa, but each bullet
was taken as if they were nothing to freshly awakened spirit.

Strands of white light cracked from her
fingers and shot towards the commander. He tried desperately to
load another clip into his rifle. Not that anymore bullets would’ve
done him any good. Elsa looked like she could take as many rounds
as he could muster and still be able to take more. She appeared
unstoppable, and when the time was right, Elsa commanded the light
further, faster, straight into the man that stood in her way.

Lances of achromatic energy shot through
Julian’s body armor in rapid succession. Each one struck deeper
than flesh and bone. Elsa’s light pierced his soul, and continued
to do so until he was brought to his knees in prayer.

“Forgive me,” said Julian, his hands clasped
and head tilted to the night sky. “I only wanted to be one of you,
brother.”

He exploded into a million pieces of light
that fractured off in every direction. It was as if the stars had
come down to the mountain, only to drift slowly away from this
world, back up to the sky.

When the light dispersed from Elsa’s eyes she
fell to the ground with a thud. Gemma rushed to her side and tried
to stabilize her friend, but it was no use. Elsa was gone from this
world. Where she was Gemma hadn’t the slightest notion.

It was a realm unknown to those untouched by
the light. Not for Gemma, the high priestess, or even the man in
black understand.

“Elsa, where have you gone?” asked a frenetic
Gemma Kohl. “You’ve got to come back to me. Elsa? Elsa?”

Chapter Forty Two

Night Kings: The Red River

Gregory Blackman

It Rolls Downstream

Lukas Wendish awoke to blood smeared vision
and hands bound in iron chains. He tried to free himself, but it
was to no avail. These shackled were made thick enough for someone
of his kind, unbreakable, no matter how hard he tried.

He thought about the events that led to his
capture. They were a blur to him. Quick flashes of imagery where he
got a boot put to him at every available turn. He never got to see
the woman’s fate. All he could remember was that haughty voice.

No sooner than Lukas regained consciousness
did he hear the sound of footsteps on the other side of a steel
hatch. The hatch’s circular handle spun around at an accelerated
pace that forced light to flood into the dank chamber. The sudden
change struck his eyes harshly and Lukas recoiled from the light’s
embrace.

“Good evening, Lukas,” said that same haughty
voice he remembered so clearly in his mind. “I see your wounds have
healed... most of them, anyway.”

Once his eyes had adjusted Lukas looked up
into his captor’s dead eyes. “You know my name?”

“I’ve learned a great deal since we last
spoke.”

“You know my name,” repeated Lukas as he
wiped the blood from his mouth. “It’s only fair that I know
yours.”

“No, no, no,” said the woman, hastily. “You
haven’t earned the privilege.”

“Then what should I call you?”

The woman knelt down, placed a tender hand on
his bloody chin, and said, “Dear boy, you may call me anything you
wish. It makes no difference to me.”

He grumbled a few choice words in her
direction, but none of them made a dent in her steel skin. She was
right. It didn’t matter her name. All that mattered was that he
might never see the world outside these walls.

“I know of you,” groaned Lukas as flecks of
blood reached his lips. “You’re the one
he
spoke of… the
bitch in red and black. You’re the fallen princess, come to mourn
her departed mother.”

Her gentle hand turned sour and soon her
nails found their way across his face in rapid succession. After
the blood had been spilled from his body she tugged on his chains
for good measure.

“That’s rather rude, and more than a little
short sighted, I’ll have you know.” The woman pushed back from
Lukas and stormed around the chamber in a frenzied manner. “A
princess is still a princess even after her brother steals the
throne, is she not?”

“I didn’t kill your maker,” said Lukas, sure
to cut straight to the chase.

She slapped him across the face before she
broke out into an insane cackle. He would’ve been naked hadn’t it
been for the thick coat of blood that covered his body. He was
afraid for himself, his pack, and all those attached to the Wendish
name. This woman was going to kill him. He was sure of it.

“I know that, silly boy,” said the vampire
princess, Corina Petravic, with the lick of her devilish lips. “You
wouldn’t have the power to kill my maker with a pack of one hundred
at your disposal.”

“Then why am I here?” Lukas asked, defiant in
the face of the end.

Corina grabbed him by the throat and lifted
him into the air. The iron chains clasped around Lukas had no give
in them left and they dug into his flesh, deeper and deeper, for
every inch the lady continued to move him.

“Do you see it? Do you feel it within your
bones?” Corina asked of him. She dropped him to the ground with a
thud and the snap of a few bones. “The full moon will reign over
the night sky soon enough. Then the real fun can begin.”

A broken Lukas looked up to the maniacal
woman, and said through pursed lips, “I won’t help you. I’d rather
die than be used by the vampire queen… or her kaleidoscopic
crony.”

“You might get your wish in the end,” an
unimpressed Corina said, “but first let us find out what you’re
made of.”

Corina Petravic turned to leave the dank
chamber, and with her, any trace of the light that followed her
into the room.

“In time all will be revealed,” Corina said
with a fleeted glance in Lukas’ direction. “Darkness has come to
Salem and it must be cleansed in a river of blood. You and I will
be at the mouth of that river, Lukas, and all those that oppose us
shall lay in our wake; just as our lady envisioned.”

Corina slammed the door shut. The light was
gone and it would remain gone until she willed it to be back. It
was all part of her control, Lukas reckoned. Starve him of the
light that made him human. Bring the monster to the surface when
the full moon shone through.

He watched the circular handle spin around
and around. His head spun with it, but by the time it stopped,
Lukas succumbed to the dehydration and loss of blood he had endured
at Corina’s hand.

The vampire queen saw something in Lukas. Now
the barbarous princess wished to see it for herself. Corina
Petravic wanted to see what kind of beast lurked inside.

Neither Corina nor Lukas truly knew what the
lady in red saw in him. It could’ve been everything, but it
could’ve easily been nothing at all. Corina thought a bloodletting
would awaken the true Lukas Wendish, but the truth was that she
hadn’t the slightest idea what would open that door.

This was a woman that would do anything to
get what she wanted. And what the dark princess wanted was him.
Everyone else was collateral damage.

Act Four

Darkest of Depths – Old World Cull

Chapter Forty Three

Night Kings: Darkest of Depths

Gregory Blackman

Forlorn Lovers

Lukas Wendish had been to hell and back these
last few days. At least, what he assumed were days. There was no
light to transition him from day to night. There was only the light
Corina Petravic provided him with each of her laborious visits. He
stirred on the floor of his cell floor. In his fractured mind he
was in a million different places; all of them of the dark
princess’ choosing.

He awoke to find Corina Petravic atop him.
She writhed in pleasure, back and forth, calling out to the
archdemons of the nine circles while she did so. He pushed Corina
off as fast he could, only to find that they were no longer in the
cell. He was in an open meadow surrounded by a forest. Corina
Petravic, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. He stood
alone in the fields of grass, not a sight or sound in all
directions.

Lukas was drawn to the night sky above. There
a full moon hung in the sky, closer to the Earth than he’d ever
seen before. He tried to contain himself, but the moon’s power
proved too much for the young werewolf to tame. It forced his claws
to the forefront and tore at his flesh.

When the bile and flecks of skin ceased to
pour from his body there was only the wolf that remained in these
fields of green.

Much like the nosferatu they were endlessly
at war with, the lycan race was bred for the hunt. But unlike their
stealthy counterparts the wolves were built more for power than
grace. While the original lycans that escaped through the Hell Gate
were lost to the world, their shadow lingered behind every werewolf
across the globe. Whether it was in their staunch posture or their
muscular frame, the werewolves of today shared little in common
with the creatures they took their name from.

The werewolf in this particular field was
unhinged from reality; in that dark place it lay locked up, save
the one night a month they were released from their supernatural
binds. The true Lukas Wendish was free at last and he used every
moment he had at his disposal. He tore through the fields at a
frantic pace with hopes that he’d get to the forest he could see in
the distance, but no matter how fast he ran, those trees remained
just that—in the distance.

He snapped and snarled at the cruelest joke
of all. The woods were a place every werewolf was born and raised,
and it was said to know the forests that bore them was to know the
true wolf inside.

The werewolf outside was furious at the dark
princess, only he hadn’t the slightest notion of whom that woman
was. Not truly. She was a mystery to him still, a vengeful presence
in his mind that refused to go away.

Suddenly the forests he sought rushed into
the foreground. He leaped into them with the tenacity of a werewolf
that just came unchained. He soared for a brief moment, with his
ears pinned back and fur aflutter in the wind.

It ended all too quickly for the frenzied
werewolf. Lukas crashed to the ground with a thud, uncertain of
what’d struck him, but all too assured of his response. He jumped
back to his feet and searched for what he believed was the dark
presence in his mind.