Darkness (Alisa Rose #2)

-Four-

Alisa POV

The next morning, I found myself standing in the training hall of the Vampire Society's headquarters. It was a massive, cold, and uninviting space with high ceilings, stone walls, and rows of ancient weapons lining the walls like trophies from countless battles. It reminded me of a gladiator arena—only this time, I was the one about to be put to the test.

Jace stood beside me, arms crossed, watching as Tyrone and a few other high-ranking officers—most of whom I'd never seen before—entered the room. Tyrone, looking more intimidating than ever in his fitted black suit, stepped forward to address me.

"Alisa," he began, his voice echoing through the hall. "Today, we'll be testing more than just your physical strength. A Slayer needs to be agile, sharp, and quick to adapt. But above all, you need to demonstrate discipline."

I gulped, feeling the weight of his words. I knew what that meant: he wanted to see if I could keep my emotions in check. If I could stay focused under pressure. And—given my history of impulsiveness—it wasn't exactly my strongest suit.

"Are you ready?" Tyrone asked, his sharp gaze boring into me.

"Yes, sir," I replied, keeping my voice steady despite the nerves bubbling inside me.

He gave a nod and stepped back, signaling for one of the officers to approach. The man—a muscular vampire named Commander Rivas—walked toward me, holding two wooden staves in his hands. He tossed one my way, and I caught it mid-air, immediately assuming a fighting stance.

"Let's start with a basic spar," Tyrone said. "Show us what you've learned."

I took a deep breath, glancing at Jace who stood on the sidelines, giving me a small nod of encouragement. Then I turned my attention back to Rivas.

The moment the fight began, Rivas came at me hard, his strikes fast and relentless. He wasn't holding back, and I didn't expect him to. I blocked the first few blows, but he was quick—faster than I anticipated. I had to stay on my toes, ducking and weaving to avoid getting hit. Every swing he took felt like it carried the weight of a sledgehammer, and it was all I could do to keep up.

Stay calm, I reminded myself. Focus.

I countered with a few strikes of my own, aiming for his weak spots—his ribs, his legs—but he blocked me easily, his face expressionless. This wasn't about overpowering him; it was about proving I could stay in control, even when things got intense.

Suddenly, Rivas lunged forward, trying to knock me off balance. I twisted out of the way just in time, but I could feel the frustration building inside me. I wanted to hit back harder, to show him I wasn't some rookie. But I had to resist the urge to get reckless.

"Control your emotions, Alisa," Tyrone's voice rang out, cold and detached. "A true Slayer doesn't let anger dictate their moves."

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to breathe steadily. He was testing me—not just my combat skills but my ability to stay calm under pressure. I couldn't let him see me falter.

With a sharp turn, I shifted my weight, sweeping my leg low and catching Rivas off guard. He stumbled back, and I took the opportunity to strike, my staff connecting with his side. The sound of wood hitting flesh was satisfying, but I didn't let myself celebrate. Rivas recovered quickly and came at me again, this time with more intensity.

The fight continued for several minutes, both of us landing blows and testing each other's reflexes. But eventually, Tyrone raised a hand, signaling for us to stop.

I stepped back, breathing heavily but steady. My body was sore, but I had managed to keep my emotions in check—barely.

"Not bad," Tyrone commented, his expression unreadable. "But the real test is yet to come."

I raised an eyebrow, wiping sweat from my forehead. "What do you mean?"

"Your mental strength," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "A Slayer faces more than just physical opponents. The real battle is often within your mind."

Without warning, Tyrone stepped forward, and suddenly everything went dark.

I blinked, confusion swirling through me. One second I was in the training hall, and the next I was standing in what looked like... my old high school gym?

"What the hell?" I muttered, turning in circles. Everything was eerily quiet. No sign of Jace, Tyrone, or Rivas. Just me, standing alone in this familiar but off-putting place.

"Alisa," a voice called out from the shadows.

I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat. The figure that stepped out wasn't one of the vampires from the evaluation.

It was my mother.

She looked exactly as she did the day she left me—worn out, with tired eyes and a weak smile. The sight of her hit me like a punch to the gut.

"Mom?" I breathed, disbelief clouding my mind. "But... you're—"

"Dead?" She gave a sad smile, shaking her head. "I never wanted to leave you, Alisa. You have to know that."

My pulse raced. My mother had left when I was a kid. It broke me in ways I still hadn't fully dealt with, and seeing her now—after all this time—it felt too real.

"This isn't real," I whispered, but even as I said the words, doubt crept in.

"You know why I left, don't you?" she continued, stepping closer. "Because you were never enough, Alisa. You'll never be enough."

The words cut through me like a blade. No, this isn't real, I told myself again. But the pain—the suffocating weight of guilt and doubt—it felt all too real. I could feel my chest tightening, my vision blurring as emotions I'd buried long ago threatened to surface.

Just as I was about to spiral, another voice pierced through the fog.

"Alisa! Snap out of it!" It was Jace's voice, sharp and commanding.

Suddenly, the gym disappeared, and I was back in the training hall, gasping for breath. Tyrone stood in front of me, his expression still cold and detached.

"That," he said, "was a test of your mental resilience. You must learn to distinguish between reality and illusion. As a Slayer, you'll face creatures that prey on your mind—creatures that will use your fears against you. You need to be stronger than your demons, or you won't survive."

I wiped a tear from my cheek, embarrassed that I had almost fallen apart. "I... I understand."

Tyrone gave a small nod. "You did well to break free. But remember, emotions can be your greatest weakness. Control them, or they'll control you."

I glanced at Jace, who gave me a sympathetic look from the sidelines, but I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze for long. This evaluation was harder than I had expected, and it wasn't even over yet.

Tyrone stepped back, signaling that the evaluation was done for now. "You've proven your physical strength, Alisa. And you've shown glimpses of mental fortitude. But there's still more work to be done."

"Of course," I managed, even though I felt like I had just been run over by a truck.

"As long as you're with Jace, we will continue to monitor your progress closely," Tyrone said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "If you're going to lead the effort against the newborns, we need to be sure you're truly ready."

But one thing's for damn sure. I wouldn't let my tears be used for their sick entertainment. 
I would show them that I was built for so much more—more than just a dhampir. 

My name is Alisa Rose Guzman, and I am the vampire slayer.