Reckless

Chapter 9 Part 3

60 AD

Character POV: Ariadne

"I don't know about this," the man with long black hair and a trim black beard to my right says as we stand in front of the caldron, the hooded Egyptian witch standing across from the three of us. He drags his brown gaze to me and says, "I doubt there will be any undoing this once we start down this road."

"Vlad," I tsk, "This is the only way. We all have our concerns about what Drusilla is doing. She took your wife from you, making her a witch and putting her on the frontlines only for her to die. Do you want this to happen to other people? Do you want more families to be broken up so that the female partners can die as pawns for that red-headed pig?"

"He's not the only one concerned," the woman on my left says, her red-painted lips pursed, her dark eyes fixed on me. "The Egyptian witch has told us what the side effects could be, that our darkest impulses and worst personality traits could be magnified or become all there is to us once we do this. Vlad is already sadistic when angry, I am aware that I am already controlling and vain. You are impulsive and obsessive. What will we become when we transition into this new life?"

"Elizabeth, you can be anyone you want to be. You can create a whole new life for yourself where you are in charge and everyone will bow to you. Vlad can protect his borders forever from people who would attack his country. We all can protect what is most dear to us. I think that whatever happens to us is worth it if no one else we care about is killed." When they both just nod along and mutter their agreement, I turn around and face the Egyptian witch. "We're ready, Nitocris."

She pulls back her hood, golden eyes fixed on me as she smiles. "Then let us begin. You must drink my blood, the potion in the caldron. Then you must die. But then you will live forever unless acted upon by outside forces. The length of your life will entirely be up to the decisions each of you makes."

All three of us plunge our hands into the caldron, scooping up a mouthful of the liquid, swallowing it down with winces and gags. Nitocris moves around us quietly, but I know what's about to happen. It happens in a flash, one after the other, a knife drawn across the throat, sharp pain, and then blackness as we descend into death.

For a long moment I am in that darkness, born of it, remade by it, suspended in it. I see nothing, no bright light or red abyss lurking beneath me. There's nothing beckoning me from here. And then, slowly, I sink beneath the black tide, drowning in the darkness. I start to cough, trying to expel it from my lungs, but to no avail. A silent scream forms on my lips as I feel my entire being in the process of being ripped apart and re-forged.

I snap awake, gasping for air, looking around in a panic. The fire is dying down, Nitrocris having been gone for goodness knows how long. She probably isn't coming back. Slowly, Vlad and Elizabeth stir on either side of me. The three of us sit up slowly, looking around. Vlad mutters, "I'm hungry."

"For blood," Elizabeth elaborates, eyeing the caldron. "But fresh stuff, from the vein."

"We need more recruits if we're to have an army that rivals anyone who stands against us," I mutter, thinking of the next phase of this plan. "We need people just as desperate to make a difference, to not just slide quietly into the night. We need people whose emotions are just as strong at driving them as ours are. Come, let's hunt."