Beneath the Vail

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

The SUV was still parked just as it was several days ago when I came upon it, came upon him. Keys rustled in his hands as he unlocked the vehicle, digging in the trunk for something. He pulled out a slim black portfolio no doubt containing documents pertaining to the investigation. He raised it slightly, "Legion business."

"You keep that in your rental? Doesn't seem very secure."

He shrugged, "Well I had other pressing matters to attend to." We walked together towards the side entrance just as we had before, this time under no false pretenses. I was Saana Korhonen, forgetful slayer and he was Vulkan Payne, 'not part of my puzzle' Legion Commander.

A bout of nausea churned my stomach just as it had the first time we ascended the winding staircase to the top of the spire room. I could still smell the foul odor of death and decay, upon entering the room I saw that the blood pools had dried. The grains unwillingly stained a burgundy shade, opposite me was a rickety black oak desk covered with old parchments and newer age items. I hadn't noticed it that last time I was up here, which didn't exactly go well.

"We uncovered these scrolls under a loose floorboard." He motioned to the desk; I crossed the relatively short distance across the room. Again, the anomalous amalgamation of Sânge and Umbrian sigils decorated the pages. The ink an odd brown color seeped into the parchment-like a tattoo to skin.

"They're written in blood." Vulkan now stood closer to me, looking down at the bizarre literary works from over my right shoulder. The heat of his body radiating, his scent washing over me; something caught my eye.

"I've seen this before, once— "Hesitation, I turned slightly to face him, distrust clouded my judgment momentarily, "—twice actually. Before my memories returned, I had a recurring dream, which I now know is real. My sister and I invaded an Umbrian slum for what we thought was a routine extinction; that's what the coven calls our missions. It's more of a mercy killing, really. Umbras are lost souls, The Defiled Ones as father would say. I found these symbols there, they had to have been working with a Sânge, it was like they were creating a new magick.

Beatrix was right too, about my being cursed, I found the wicked marks, they're also of this...abomination." I motioned to the foreign symbols.

He nodded, "Do you remember anything else? About that mission?" I got the feeling he was eluding to something, then it clicked.

"The Luna Mors curse; the death moon. A supposed spell to raise the Firsts, and that whoever may perform the ritual will control the original Lycanthrope. I saw it written on a scroll." I felt Vulkan tense from beside me, the energy shifted but I shook my head, laughing at the notion of it, "That is just a myth." For a moment I stared at him, the contours of his face, the exhaustion that had worn on his appearance earlier persisted, his posture erect as he sifted through parchment. He seemed to have relaxed again, his expression stoic.

Floorboards creaked, the expanding and contracting of the wood caused us both to freeze. Our eyes met, Vulkan's hand went behind him to his waistband, armed with a gun he put his finger to his lips. I nodded, pulling the letter opener from my back pocket, flipping it in my hand ready to attack whatever came through the entrance. A door previously unknown to the both of us flung open, slamming against the decrepit walls. A high-pitched shriek sounded and from the corner of my eye, I saw a figure diving onto Vulkan.

I hesitated for just a moment, my call to action delayed as I frantically tried to recall exactly what to do. Fresh blood saturated my senses, I saw the intruder pull a knife from Vulkan's back. As he thrust it into him again, Vulkan fell to the ground his gun clattering from his hand and sliding too far away. All at once, like a wolf hunting, it was muscle memory; I flipped the letter opener in my hand again, confidently approaching the attacker I grabbed its shoulder jamming it into his chest.

I could feel them, slicing through the skin of my forehead, each one causing excruciating pain, my horns. Four of them protruded, it had been years since I could shift since I could be who I truly am. What I truly am. My exposed skin took on a charcoal shade like soil had been rubbed on my body, or as if I'd dug myself out of a grave. My eyes a vibrant gold hue, I felt reborn, complete.

The letter opener sunk into his flesh with ease, I retracted it, an inhuman yell crawled its way out of my throat as I stabbed the creature again. It fell to the wayside, I dropped on top of its corpse, driving the false knife into the back of its skull. My hands shook as adrenaline ran its course, I scrambled off the man, crawling towards Vulkan who'd rolled onto his side. "Vulkan!"

I grabbed his arm, leaning over to see blood seeping from the wounds that had penetrated through to his chest. I felt dizzy as I struggled to flip him onto his back, I gently smacked his cheeks, "Vulkan!" His eyes fluttered open, forest green pools stared up at me, he struggled to sit up, coughing as I assisted him. I tore part of his shirt open to get a better look at the stab wounds, three deep gashes on his shoulder were also mirrored on his right pectoral. Again, he fell back, I caught him, gently laying his head onto the floor.

I bit into the palm of my hand drawing blood placing it over the wounds, I began rubbing it in a circular motion, "Vieteas, anevoios. Vieteas— "roughly he snatched my hand, squeezing it as he regained consciousness. The exit wounds partially healed, but quickly it wore off long black spidery veins jutted out from each gash.

"I can heal." His voice hoarse and harsh in tone; his hand still encased mine.

"You've been poisoned, let me help." Pushing me away, he struggled to stand up, bracing himself against the wall. He shook his head, swatting away my futile attempts to render aid. "Vulkan! Let me help." He looked into my eyes before finally nodding, "Not here though— "he slumped again, I pulled his unwounded arm around my neck, taking the brunt of his weight. "—m-my office, grab its blade." I did as instructed, wrapping it in the torn bits of his shirt before tucking it into the back of my waistband. He had leaned down scooping up his gun, bracing his right shoulder with his left hand.

The mop of brown hair caught the corner of my eye, it wasn't an Umbra but a young man that lay still on the floor. The letter opener sticking from his skull was rather unsightly as I approached the body, I knelt turning him over. "What are you doing?" Vulkan's voice was weaker, I could see his strength fading.

A dash of freckles covered the man's youthful-looking face, "I recognize him," I shoved the black overcoat he wore open, the emblem of a raven glared up at me. "He's dressed as a student." I watched as Vulkan slid down the wall, streaks of red painting the wood as he fell. I rushed to his side again, hoisting him up with all the strength I could muster. We began our descent, limping with the weight of the Lycan crushing me as we exited the castle.

His head falling forward every few steps, the poison spreading in his system, spoiling his blood. He would not make it to his office, "If I'm going to help you, I need to do it now." No response came from him, I lowered him to the grass as gently as I could, ripping the remainder of his shirt open. I gasped, blisters like a chemical burn festered at each wound, inky black liquid oozed from them. "Shit."

He seemed delirious, his eyes rolling, lids fluttering, "S-Saana. They're dead, they're gone." My eyes widen as my name passed his lips.

"I'm going to need you to drink from me, okay?" More indiscernible words muttered from his mouth, he was clearly affected by the poison coursing throughout him. With an elongated nail I sliced along my wrist, tipping his head back I positioned it over his mouth. Blood poured from the cut, "Vulkan, drink it." He struggled to part his lips but as soon as the blood reached his tongue his eyes shot open. Golden irides intense like the morning sun stared into my amber ones.

He grabbed my arm with both hands, pushing his canines into my flesh vigorously gulping it down. I watched as the black veins retracted, the festering blisters healed and all that remained were three uninfected wounds. I pulled my arm away from him as he sat forward, "We'll still need to stitch those, but the poison is gone." I rubbed my finger along my self-inflicted cut, rapidly it healed though not without discomfort.