Authors: Megan J. Parker
Nikki was eager to figure out what had happened with Zane and Maledictus.
Though she knew that neither she nor Zane nor Raith had been responsible—let alone deserving—of the monstrosity that her people had released unto the world in an act of dark rage, she still felt, in some way, like she had to oversee its destruction.
That, and she was more than just a little curious as to how a vulgar and destructive vampire like Zane and an equally vulgar and destructive monster like Maledictus could’ve gotten lost in the short time it had taken her and the others to arrive.
After Raith and Isaac had split up, she’d stepped over the gaping divide between the two rooms and looked around for any clues. The area around the door, which hung open on one tortured hinge, was littered in bullet holes that, from a distance, created an almost comical outline that was far too tall to be Zane. Exploring the floor around that area, she’d found a number of warped bullets that hadn’t punctured Maledictus, as well as enough fresh ykali blood to prove that at least some of them
had
.
Nikki smirked at this, whispering “You go, Zane!” to herself as she searched for any sign that Maledictus might have gotten a hit in, as well.
Her smirk became a smile when none turned up.
Keeping her sais poised at her side, she’d followed the “trail” through the door and into the hall—remembering that Raith and Isaac had parted at this point—and, scoping both directions, caught sight of a small smearing of ykali blood on the push-handle to the staircase two doors to her left. She followed, pushing open the door with her hip and holding up her weapons as she peered inside.
Though nothing immediately presented itself, the sounds of something—
a lot
of whatever the things were, from the sounds of it—echoed from the bottom of the stairs. Sneering at the sound for a moment, Nikki decided that she didn’t want to know what was making all that racket; not on her own, at least.
Luckily for her, a few drops of ykali blood leading upstairs gave her a simple enough out from exploring whatever
it
was.
She continued after the trail up the double-flight—pausing to appreciate a sizable dent in the steel railing—and through the doorway to the next floor, once again preparing for any risk on the other side.
But there was nothing there. Just an uncomfortably narrow hallway lined with office doors. To her right, where the hall ended abruptly, she noticed a trail of twin scratches leading down either side of the walls that led to a dead-end with a set of bathrooms—men’s on the left; women’s on the right—and the mangled remains of a drinking fountain that gushed belching torrents of water all over the carpet and a lonely, blood-coated katana.
“Gods above and below, Zane,” Nikki marveled. “It’ll be a miracle if the building’s left standing!”
Starting towards the water-soaked dead-end, Nikki puzzled herself with a riddle:
Would a pair of horny bastards decide to take this into the women’s washroom, or would they sooner compare dick-sizes at the urinals in the men’s?
Zane silently thanked the powers of the universe that he wasn’t responsible for cleaning up the mess that he and Maledictus had made in the men’s bathroom.
After being thrown into the side of the first stall and, under the force of the impact, taking out more than half of the four stalls in a painful Domino mockery, he’d made a note of putting Maledictus’ increasingly bloodied face through each and every sink. As the tile floors had grown slippery with the payoff from so many destroyed plumbing lines, he’d had no problem throwing the top-heavy Leiche through the only intact stall—smirking as he faltered and broke through the toilet and, using the overhanging framework of the stall barriers, delivering a swinging kick to the dazed monster and sending him through the wall and into the conference room on the other side.
Stumbling in the process of following Maledictus through yet another hole in the wall, Zane lost his footing and, by the time he’d righted himself, had given his opponent enough time to break an office chair across the side of his head.
Dazed, Zane had barely registered the pain from slamming into the office wall, only a few feet from a window on either side of him.
He barely had enough time to count his blessings that he hadn’t been thrown from the building before he caught sight of Maledictus coming at him and ducked in time to have another chair shattered against the wall. With the Leiche fumbling with his balance over him, Zane was free to deliver an enraged uppercut to his enemy’s groin.
Maledictus just looked down at him and laughed.
“Oh fuck…” Zane sneered in disgust, “
That’s
never happened befo—”
“PERKS OF BEING A FUCKING MONSTER, ZANEY-BOY!” Maledictus roared as he grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around, picking up speed and momentum, and prepared to throw him through the window.
Seeing what was coming, Zane drew his remaining katana and stabbed it through Maledictus’ hip.
The ear-splitting shriek of shattering glass rang in Zane’s ears for the second time that morning.
A cool breeze from outside swept up his bangs, and he watched the silver-and-black strands of hair pass in front of his eyes as he squinted against the rays of the sun.
Below him, the noise of the city offered a new tune from the night-song he’d come to know so well.
And, with his sword hooked in his enemy’s side and a driving need to share the fall he’d been condemned to, he dragged Maledictus into the start of that day’s afternoon in the human world.
CELINE WAS SO EAGER TO BE RID OF THIS PLACE;
this place and everyone—every-
bloody
-one!—associated with it. With the way her life had been going ever since she’d made the mistake of attacking and turning Zane, she was beginning to wish that she
had
just been arrested.
Hell, execution is looking goddam
great
at this point!
But there was, however, the recent discovery of how good it felt to
not
go through life as a victim pathetically begging for protection. And while she wasn’t particularly thrilled with crediting Serena Vailean as the inspiration of this discovery, she was comfortable in the awareness that, in whatever new, bolder life she established for herself after all this was over, she’d never have to credit anyone but herself ever again.
Least of all
her
.
Celine scoffed, playing out different scenarios of various things she’d do if she came face-to-face with the blonde bimbo. Though she’d gotten herself a bit lost in the building—she’d yet to explore
all
of it since she and Kristine acquired it several weeks earlier—she was certain that, so long as she avoided direct conflict with either one of the two warring sides, she’d figure out a way to get away from the building.
She smirked, perhaps she’d make her way to the rooftop and make one of those exciting-looking jumps to a neighboring rooftop that everyone seemed to be doing. After all, if the likes of Zane or Serena could do it, there was no reason that she—
She heard something approaching behind her and smirked, a swell of confidence growing within her, and she clenched her fists. She’d been reciting the line from before over and over, and she was certain that she’d perfected it.
“Whoever the
fuck
is dicking with me had better piss-the-fuck-off before I’m forced to rip out my tampon and cram it down a motherfucker’s throat!”
She spun around, eager to shoot her practiced death-glare at whoever dared to—
Celine’s breath caught in her throat.
“Nice try, you stupid bitch!”
Serena smirked as she walked—seeing no need to break a sweat with running—towards the bug-eyed Celine; feeling a swell of pride at how her hips swayed in Zoey’s sexy “battle suit.”
When all was said and done, she promised herself to take this outfit into the bedroom and torture Zane with it.
Celine’s wavering aura had begun to deflate at the sight of her, but, as she’d recently acquired a few forged pages from the big book of the badass Serena, she pumped herself up that she could take her…
If she only
believed
in herself.
Believe all you want, cunt-nugget,
Serena reminded the arrogant she-vamp that she could pop inside her head whenever she wanted,
it ain’t gonna make it true!
“I’ll show you!” Celine hissed, baring her fangs, “I’ll show all of you!”
Celine lunged.
Serena didn’t falter in her pace as she threw her right elbow out, clocking the incoming Celine across the left side of her jaw. As the realization that she’d made a terrible mistake dawned on Celine’s aura, Serena broke out in a wide grin and let the back of her now-perched right hand lash out in a blur against Celine’s neglected right cheek.
The she-vamp toppled to the side, throwing out her hands to stay her fall against the wall and taking in an audible breath against the waves of pain.
“I thought…” she whimpered.
“You thought wrong, bitch!” Serena scoffed.
Celine growled, “You stupid bimbo! You think that just because you were brave enough to put up with Zane when that
thing
was in him makes you right for him?” She pushed off against the wall for another attempt at Serena.
Serena ducked under the wide punch and twisted Celine around from the shoulder, forcing her to face away from her.
“No, honey, I think that us being right for each other makes me right for him!”
Taking the sides of Celine’s head in each hand, Serena twisted sharply and giggled at the sound of her neck breaking.
“And
that’s
how it’s done, bitch!” Serena spat on the corpse of the she-vamp who had done
everything
to ruin her man’s life. “There, now that
that’s
done…” she smirked and turned away starting back down the hall towards where she’d left the chainsaw. “Sorry about the holdup, Bruce, but I didn’t want to dirty your chain with the likes of
her
,” she slung the retrieved tool over her shoulder and started back towards Zane’s aura, “Now let’s go find Daddy—ooh! I like the sound of that.”
Zane was rather enjoying the sensation of freefalling. There was a certain freedom—albeit a loaded one given what awaited the end of it—that just felt right.
Or maybe it was how his fists felt as he drove them repeatedly into Maledictus’ face.
Either way, it was euphoria!
Shortly after Maledictus had thrown them out the window, Zane had been able to rotate the two of them, using the larger Leiche’s bodyweight as a means of seeing to it that he met the street before Zane. Finding his katana firmly jammed in his opponent’s side, Zane had sacrificed his grip on the handle and started letting loose a chain of overdrive-fueled punches to preoccupy the already lengthy fall.
As soon as they crashed into the street—no matter how many humans were around to witness the spectacle—he was going to retrieve his Glocks and empty every last bullet he hand into—
He looked past Maledictus’ battle-damaged face at the street below, frowning at the total lack of humans. There were no cars, no pedestrians—no bicyclists or dog walkers or joggers or jittery business folk on their “too short” lunch break—no
anything
!
Then he spotted it…
Zane’s eyes widened.
Is that my Jag?
Maledictus did, indeed, impact before Zane…
Directly on the hood of his prized, cherry-red 2014 Jaguar F-Type!
The two of them—between the force of gravity and Maledictus’ bony, barbed, and otherwise weaponized body—caved through the glistening, sleek metal and threw everything that made the beautiful car purr into a useless hunk of dented metal.
“WHY THE FUCK IS MY CAR PARKED OUT HERE?” Zane roared, forgetting all about his plans and taking out his rage on the only living thing around him: Maledictus. “IT CLEARLY SAYS ‘NO PARKING’ RIGHT THERE!” he pulled the Leiche’s head up from one of his horns and thrust a finger at a nearby, curb-mounted sign. “WHY DOES THE UNIVERSE—”
“FUCKING ENOUGH!” Maledictus roared, grabbing Zane by the jacket and hurling him onto the sidewalk. Standing, Maledictus focused on healing—his body and all the damage that had been inflicted on it beginning to mend—as he yanked the katana out of his side and twisted it into a knot.
Zane sighed, “Now you’re just adding insult to injury.”
“No, Zane,” Maledictus started towards him, “now I’m fucking
ending
this nut-fuckery for good!”
Serena growled as she approached the room that she’d sensed Zane in, suddenly feeling his auric signature on the floor below.
Then the floor below that.
Then the floor…
“Oh no…” Serena spotted the broken window. “Oh shit, no!”
She took off in a sprint for the stairwell, moving in overdrive through the door and down the steps, feeling her body howl from the exertion. Five floors down, she sensed Nikki, Raith, Isaac, and over a hundred dull, gray auric signatures with the stink of Maledictus all over them. Slamming through the door and starting towards the energy signatures, she let herself fall out of overdrive and into a human Olympian’s pace as reached ahead of her with her aura.
Nikki had been fortunate enough to catch up with Raith and Isaac
before
Maledictus’ horde of walking corpses reached them. The first few had gone down easily—they
were
only corpses—but, as the horde grew more and denser, it became a struggle just to hold their ground.
A struggle they were steadily losing.
Trying to replicate the attack that she and the auric Michael had used at the asylum, Nikki had found the enchantment far weaker against the magic that had been used to bring the shambling, undead army back from the dead. Every wave of magic she hit them with, though succeeding in knocking the mass over, seemed to get absorbed into them and make them that much more resilient to the next spell.