Chronicles of the Underworld - Soul Eater

11 - Branded

David grew increasingly impatient. He kept flying across the roofs, always out of reach, but not too far as to be lost. He felt pity for the vampire, who happened to be his target. It was a crime to murder one of his own kind, but sometimes...

Sometimes there was a good reason for it.

When said vampire was a traitor. A murderer. A cheat.

When he had been sent by the man who had ruined the life of his best friend.

David released his breath and started moving towards her house. She had no idea about all of this, but he knew her. He had known her ever since the underworld had vomited her into his world, tortured, burnt, cast away and cursed. He and the witch had cured her back to life, but she had never forgotten who had done to her what she had to hide every single day and what threatened to eat her alive if she did not control it.

That had been a couple of centuries back. Her feelings had not ebbed down, only grown stronger.

David could feel the vampire closing in and jumped to the roof of another house, from there to the one next to hers. She heard the silent sound with which he landed and appeared at her window, an instant later on the roof.

Lucie was tiny. Pale and thin and her hair a waterfall of lava, dark red curls falling down to her hips. Her eyes were yellow, and her face showed no sign of the symbols that had been burnt into her skin with consecrated silver and salt. She had concealed them behind a mask of apparent humanness.

"David.", she said surprised. "What... No. Don't tell me this is one of your missions. I'm not having it."

"Lucie, wait."

"No way. You're not murdering someone on the roof of my fucking house."

"Listen to me."

"Why would I? You're the worst best friend in the world. What you're doing – that's not normal."

"Listen."

They stared at each other.

He heard the vampire coming closer and put his hand on the gun in his belt.

"He's from the Guard", David said.

-

Fulgor thought about Columbia.

Her face was etched into his mind, had always been. He remembered the taste of her blood, the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. Full of power. And love, but not towards him. Once he had realised it, it had started to taste bitter and rotten.

He had brought it to the wolves. They had tasted it, had smelled it, had been trained and broken into finding her, tasting her again.

He didn't feel anything.

He didn't even feel his triad anymore.

-

"Can you hear me?"

Columbia felt something shaking her and opened her eyes. She was so tired.

"I'm good.", she whispered. "I just..."

"Well, you can't just."

The soldier pulled her to her feet. Strength was dripping into her body, stemming from his own, but it was not enough. She knew it, he knew it. They both knew it and it made things considerably worse.

"You did it.", he muttered. "Again. They're gone. We've got to get out of here before they return..."

Columbia nodded, started moving with him. Everything hurt and she wanted to lie down and rest, close her eyes, just for a minute.

Noise started to invade her conscience.

"Shit.", he said.

It came from the roof.

He grabbed her arm and together they ran towards the exit of the hall.

"It's an arena.", he muttered slowly, in shock, unable to comprehend.

The witch did not react. He knew that she knew, that the arena, the factory building formed, stood for something else: that this was not a mission, but an execution.

"Aurel.", Columbia whispered, listening to the words the magic whispered into her ears, resonating with the energy she felt in her chest. "I think there's a portal on the roof. Somebody is sending us these things."

-

It was so silent.

Alexandria didn't dare to breathe, only remained in the darkness, focussing on the slightest sound. She could hear someone breathing and it was not Salem. She felt the presence of an immense evil and could not name it, just felt it and was unable to prevent her soul from slowly becoming infected with the darkness pulsating in the living room.

Salem left her field of view.

She felt like her lungs were collapsing.

She heard nothing, only felt that something immaterial had moved, had interrupted the strings connecting the dimensions. Something tiny, like a pair of eyes flaring up, drawing in a searching glance.

She heard nothing.

"SALEM!", she cried.

A body hit the floor.