Varick
Winter, 1808
Nirena had been right. The thrill of being a Vampire hadn't lasted long. My newfound strength was countered by my thirst to kill. And every time I succumbed to the urge and killed for blood, I came back to myself, just enough to feel the guilt. Enough to grieve for what I'd done, but never enough to feel entirely human again.
“There are humans who provide more of humanity,” Nirena had explained as Dixon laid down on the tomb in our crypt. We always took turns to test out our new antidotes. “Some have naturally stronger blood. We call them Revivers. And we have found that the Reviver blood mixed with Hunter blood to be even more powerful in providing Vampires some humanity.”
I had yet to meet a Hunter face to face, but Nirena had told me of their strength, of how they were on a path to wipe Vampires from the face of the earth. Nirena and the other Lifers were trying to offer a solution to everyone. Vampires could return to their human form. Hunters may even join us in our endeavour, in time.
“We recently acquired some Hunter blood.” Nirena moved closer to me, running her finger down the inside of my wrist. “Varick, I have a confession to make.”
I raised a brow, waiting.
“I turned you for a reason. Your blood was special. You were one of them. The Revivers. The humans we desire most.”
I nodded, still not understanding.
Harriet looked to me with a brightness in her eyes.
“We have tried blood like yours before. We have mixed it with Hunter blood and tried to establish a cure from it. The mix provides a temporary...elevation. We can feel again for a short while...but it does not last. Our base desires return and we dwindle back into this form.” She touched her heart. “I have a theory, that changing you may also have changed your blood. Would you allow us to try?”
I nodded, offering my arm immediately. Any possibility of humanity was now a priority. I had spent a year or so coming to terms with what Nirena had done to me. Changing me just so I could spend my immortality trying to become human again.
But the thing was done. And I had only one choice left to me now.
Nirena slid a silver-tipped needle into my arm, drawing out my blood which was deepest red. She set to work mixing my blood with the Hunter's.
“Where did you get the Hunter blood?” I asked.
Dixon shot me a smile, running a hand through his dark curls. “A Helsing had me cornered up in Norway. I lured the bugger after me. Took her down and drained her blood into viles. Would have killed her, too, if the rest of her family hadn't showed up.”
“Of course you would have,” Harriet taunted.
“Well I managed to get the blood, didn't I?” Dixon smiled smugly.
“A Helsing?” I questioned, looking to Nirena. I didn't know quite how old she was, but she'd hinted at being present during the War of the Roses. So I placed her at four hundred at least.
“The Helsings are the epitome of Hunters. The strongest, fastest, but also the most boastful. Vampire deaths are celebrated to a degree of insanity in their family. They host large hunts, gathering the Hunters together from across the world to stay in their castle, seeking out Vampires in droves, killing them brutally, mercilessly.”
Harriet piped up. “I heard they take Vampires to their island in the north sea and release them just so they can hunt them down with their friends.”
I grimaced. “I pray never to meet one of them.”
“If you do, I suggest you kill them before they kill you.” Dixon winked, holding out his arm as Nirena prepared to inject him with the new formula.
“Maybe we won't have to worry about it after this,” Harriet said hopefully as Nirena pushed the needle into his arm. And silently, I hoped she was right.
◐☼◐
The last thing I remembered was being given a shot of silver followed by a sharp sting in my neck.
I awoke in darkness, my senses sharpening in moments so I could see through the gloom. I rose to my feet, my boots clanging on the metal floor beneath me.
I was surrounded by bodies: Vs. Some awake, silently standing, gazing at the metallic green walls.
If I wasn't mistaken, we were swaying. So I was certain we were no longer on Raskdød, but somewhere out at sea, being taken god-knows-where. And I had the distinct feeling we were in a shipping container.
Part of me wished I'd remained unconscious, because the fear that was rising in me soon grew unbearable.
More of the Vs stirred and, one by one, the mass of bodies around me rose to their feet.
I grew especially concerned as faces turned my way. Some of the better fed Vs recognised me, and that wasn't good news.
I shifted toward one of the walls, pressing my spine to it, acting calmly. There must have been thirty of us crammed into the space and those weren't good odds for me if things turned ugly.
“Varick, my old friend, how nice of you to rejoin us at last,” a male V addressed me from across the large space. He was as tall as me, broad too with sallow skin and ice-white hair.
“Dontanion.” I nodded to him briefly before turning away. I'd met the Vampire the last time I'd been thrown into the games. Born in the Victorian era, he'd never quite lost his old English accent.
He made his way toward me through the throng of weaker Vs who were paying more attention to gnawing on their own limbs in the hopes of finding a drop of blood.
“What did you do to rile the Helsings, huh?” He clapped a hand onto my shoulder, his nails digging into my skin. I shrugged him off. I had the upper hand here, but perhaps not against all of them.
“They never liked me,” I muttered, trying to diffuse the situation. “I was always going to end up back here.”
“Nice while it lasted though, I'd imagine.” Dontanion's stagnant breath ran over me and I fought a grimace. He was one of the strongest Vampires in the group, and those whose senses were sharper were all starting to focus their attention on me.
A girl, not more than fifteen in appearance, with hair the colour of hay and scars down her cheeks from her previous life, hissed as she spotted me. “Kill him.”
My pulse rose. Ignus had done this to me on purpose. Left me sentient enough to be aware of these Vs ripping me apart. He probably didn't expect me to make it through the journey.
I had no idea how long we would be at sea for. Minutes, hours, days. However long, I was fairly sure I was damned.
Dontanion smiled at me, shaking his head. “You can see your death,” he stated and I clenched my jaw. He turned to the crowd of Vs, hollering out to them, “This Vampire helped the Helsings keep us prisoner! He is given blood - he gets his pick of the girls from the games! Whilst we have to get by on scraps!”
“That's not true,” I snarled but no one was listening to me. A ruckus of noise was growing as Vs roared their anger. The weaker Vampires were rallied by the sound, evidently thinking blood was on offer.
I calmly rolled up my sleeves, bracing myself against the back wall as Dontanion turned to me.
“I'm stronger than you,” I told myself as much as him.
“You're outnumbered.” Dontanion grinned, launching at me in a blur of shadows.
Claws slashed my neck, my torso, tearing my shirt, but barely ripping skin. I fought back, gripping Dontanion's throat and yanking as hard as I could. It had been a while since I'd had to fight for my life, but my instincts were ready.
I let the monster in me take over, battling off weaker Vs with a whip of my hand as I squeezed Dontanion's oesophagus with the other.
He smashed my arm away and a crack sounded my wrist breaking. I barely registered the pain, using my other arm to fight as my wrist healed. It only took a few seconds before I could use it again. I took hold of a balding, haggard V and wrenched his head clean off before he got close enough to bite.
Black and blue blood coated my arms and the sticky smell of rot filled the air.
The teenage V sprang onto my back, digging her heels into my sides as she took hold of my head. I reached up, snatching a handful of her hair and dragging her forward, throwing her to the ground with a heavy thud. She was trampled as several Vs ran over her to reach me, her cries resounding around the space.
Dontanion came at me again from the side, having held back to heal from the injuries I'd inflicted.
I roared my fury, dispatching a weaker V in the path between us by punching a hole in his chest. Dontanion lunged forward, wrapping his arms around my neck and yanking backwards with all his strength. I stumbled, nearly hitting the floor. Several of the weak Vs were beneath me, still alive, reaching for me with slashing claws-
I found my feet, kicking out at the animal-like Vs.
Dontanion spoke in my ear, his muscles tensing as his hands tightened on my throat. “The Helsings will have to scrape you off the floor when we're done with you.”
I smashed my heel into the V biting my ankle then, with all my might, threw myself backwards. I staggered as Dontanion collided with the wall and a loud dong reverberated throughout the container.
His grip loosened and I turned, keeping a hold of his arm and ripping it off in one clean yank.
He cried out, but his screams abruptly halted as I snapped his neck and he dropped to the ground in a heap.
I turned, ready to fight every single V in the container if that's what it took. But the remainder of the Vs had backed off, giving me a wide arc of space. The girl with straw-coloured hair had found her feet, glaring at me, but seemingly done fighting.
“Anyone else?” I snarled, glowering at them.
No one answered.
From the broken bodies on the floor, I guessed I'd killed nearly ten of them.
It took a moment for me to realise we'd stopped rocking and a screeching, metal on metal sound filled the space.
A crack of light appeared at the end of the container. A door fell to the ground with a deafening clang and moonlight spread over us.
A circle of sand surrounded us, ringed by a ten foot wall. Atop it, a row of men were standing on the ledge behind a thin web of silver fencing. They gazed at the carnage inside the container, looking to me then muttering anxiously between themselves. I stepped out cautiously, gazing around.
I was in an enormous, vacant amphitheater. Above me, high walls met with an empty circle of stone seating, stretching up toward the night sky.
Before I could see any more, a stone door opened in the wall before me.
“Inside!” one of the men barked, waving a metal control to warn us of the silver shot they could inject into our heads. Every single one of the Vs complied, shuffling forward, slinking into the dark doorway ahead of us. I kept my distance from the others, leading the way forward.
As I passed under the guards, I heard one of them saying, “That's the one the Helsings were using as a slave. Didn't think he'd survive the trip.”
I growled my discontent, gazing into the darkness, meeting the eyes of more Vs. Tens of them, divided into large cages like those back in the castle, minus the sunlamps. Above us was a walkway of silver where men were patrolling, their boots clanging on the bars. The stone door slid shut as the last of us entered the corridor.
“Into the pens!” a man ordered from above, shining a torchlight down on us. I squinted up at him, tasting my lips, wishing I could rip his throat out.
I knew there was no point in fighting; we were being herded like animals in a well-devised system to keep us in check.
I moved between the cages, not recognising many of the Vs that stood behind the bars. I feared what that meant. The Helsings had spoken of collaborating with other Hunters for years. Ignus had pushed for the idea, wanting to hold the games on a larger scale. But more Vs meant more contestants. And that terrified me.
I moved into a cage where a handful of weak Vs were already present. They were sniffing around the cell, searching in vain for blood.
The door slid mechanically closed behind me. I tried to estimate how many Vampires there were within the cells. A couple of hundred, perhaps. Way too many for a regular game on Raskdød.
One of the emaciated Vs in my cell started chewing at the silver bars, searing its gums until they bled. A pang of pity went through me at the sight. I aimed a sharp kick at its side, forcing it away from the bars, finding that she was female; a girl with ebony hair and large eyes, so bloodshot it was hard to tell what colour they used to be. But it killed me the way she held traits that could have belonged to Selena. She was small and pale, her body nothing but bones.
I shut my eyes for a moment, trying not to panic. Trying to imagine any way out of this hell. But there was no point; I was destined to play the V Games. And it wouldn't be long before I grew so hungry that any offer of blood was going to test my willpower to its limit. Innocent girls or not, if I lost the final human part of myself, I'd be as much of an animal as the Vs surrounding me. And no one would be safe from me.
No one.