The Vampire's Harvest

65

You stand there for a moment, drinking in your surroundings and letting the gravity of your situation settle in. Your night of swooning in the arms of a regal vamp, entranced by the candlelight, and swept up in the intoxicating society of gossiping aristocrats, became a painful fantasy in the stillness of the lounge where your friend, coated in ash and hiding beneath a fireplace, states his intentions of massacring everything you've dreamed of.

Reality hits you in the stomach and as you look at your friend's frantic eyes, his life hanging upon your decision as well as your own future, you realize what the cost of living in a temperamental society of indulgent immortals really is.

With your heart climbing up your throat, you look around the room and spot a cloak draped over the back of an arm chair. You snatch it up and wrap it around you with hopes of keeping your rather pricey outfit safe from the soot that will soon be coating it.

"What are you doing?" asks Ferris, panic vibrating through his thin limbs as you yank open the ash trap in the fireplace.

"Leaving," you say as you push your way into the tight pit and the even tighter tunnel. The roughly hewn passage contains Ferris' wide-eyed coven who now watch you with perplexed expressions. "I suggest you do the same."

"We've worked too hard for this," says Ferris with a bit of a hiss in his rapid words. "We aren't leaving, even if you can't help us."

Based on the faces you see as you make your way through the tunnel, you aren't sure the entirety of the coven agrees. And when you manage to push past the last person in line, you hear a door open in the distance, followed by the echo of several feet running along a wooden floor.

"Retreat!" commands Ferris. "Drones approach!"

Your shock that drones had burst into the lounge is short lived. The coven, many of whom were primed to run after your retreat, jump into action before Ferris can even finish his order. You need to pick up the pace and run yourself or else the frightened mages sure to trample you dead in the tight corridor.

You race down the chute and eventually dive through the opening into the tavern cellar. You count the bodies as the coven flies out of the tunnel and are relieved to find all of them, including Ferris, made it out alive.

Without need to command them, the coven joins Ferris's side and with a quick chant, they seal the tunnel and cast a hefty ward over the wall that once had a gaping hole inside it.

"Scatter, we don't know how long it will hold," orders Ferris. "Meet at the rendezvous."

Again no words are exchanged, the others follow without hesitation and Ferris heads for the street without so much as a glance your way.

"Ferris, where is the rendezvous? Is there anything I can..."

"You've done enough for the evening," he replies in a cold tone that keeps you standing in your corner for several minutes after Ferris leaves.

You look to the wall and wonder if the drones are back there, desperately trying to meet their master's command and are breaking their fingers trying to claw their way through the dirt. You wonder who their master is. Did Ell sense Ferris well before you saw him in the fireplace? Had he left to get his drones with plans to crush a rebellion before it even started?

You take your questions and your tired heart up to the street. You can see the lights of the ball still glowing in the hall a block away. No one appears to be running around in search of rogue villagers and none of the coven appears to be watching you in the shadows. The night has moved on and so you decide to step into the tavern and wash away your rather miserable evening with a pint and a quarter of chicken.

The tavernkeep knows better than to ask why someone dressed for the ball is covered in an ashen cloak and looking as drained as a drone on that fine All Hallow's Eve. Instead she goes about getting your order while you look to take your mind off things. Your hand reaches out and snatches a pepper shaker, which you twirl around about the sticky countertop.

As you sit there fiddling with the shaker, waiting for your food to finally arrive, you hear a sound like thunder outside. The bottles rattle on top of their shelves and the glasses clink together as the whole tavern vibrates as the roar of thunder grows louder and louder. You turn to find glimpses of fur dashing past the tavern windows. Without thinking, you rise up and walk over to the door, only realizing you still have the shaker in your hand when you reach up to turn the knob. You think to take it back to the bar, but then you hear a howl pierce the deep rumbling and you simply shove it into your pocket before dashing out the door.

Wolves.

Nearly thirty of them and all bigger and meaner than the kind you typically find in the mountains. Without a doubt, you know these to be werewolves. You take a few steps out into the street, watching them parade and yip as they make their way towards the hall. They come to a halt not far from where you stand on the tavern's stoop. On the tops of your toes, you gaze over the thick furred bodies. Then, you see the doors of the hall whip open as a werewolf darts out with the whole of the vampire congregation upon its tail.

You watch that small, lean wolf skirt the edge of the pack and draw to the back where you stand. The wolf glances at you, its dark brown eyes stark against its honey fur. Both of which resemble that of your sister, Gianette.

"Gia...?" You take a step forward, but the wolf snaps its head around as the vampires charge into battle. The wolf leaps into the fray and your heart pulls. You know with every fiber of your being that the tawny-haired wolf is your sister.

You stay close to the stoop of the tavern, finding yourself not alone. Many of the village has gathered outside their doors, clinging to their door frames, ready to bolt inside once the reality of the battle sinks in. For now the vamps and werewolves seem only intent on tearing each other's flesh, but you know as well as anyone in town that a vamp won't think twice about snatching a dazed spectator and then sucking the villager dry in order to revitalize themselves. And there would be no gift of becoming a drone if that were to happen. A vamp would take every last drop until death fully embraces you.

You feel the tavernkeep pull at you to come in, but you wave her away. Your eyes are focused on Gianette's lupine form as she tussles with a vamp that you know all too well.

"Ell..." you moan, wondering if this night could possibly get any worse. Considering that your ex-dance partner is moving in for the kill on your sister, it seems it very well can. Of course, you aren't ready to surrender. It's time you take back the night and you'll do so by saving your sister. It's just a matter of how. You could go in for the offensive. The vamp is not dressed particularly well for fighting. In fact, he has a lengthy scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, which you may be able to strangle him with. Or there's the defensive. With it being All Hallow's Eve, jack-o-lantern gourds line the street on every stoop. There's one just behind you and you could use the lessons Ferris taught you to cast a ward on your sister. But, you aren't sure you have time for either. Your only chance may be to throw yourself in between the two and hope you can deflect Ell's attack.

Which do you choose?

- Strangle Ell: ch 109

- Cast a Ward: ch 110

- Take the Hit: ch 111