The Impossible | By : sandyl666 Category: S through Z > The Saga of Darren Shan Views: 3621 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: The Saga of Darren Shan belongs to Darren Shan. I am not making any money out of writing this piece of fiction. |
Disclaimer: I've never and will probably continue to not own the plot/character of the Darren Shan Saga/Cirque Du Freak.
Chapter 13: Cruel Twist of Fate
Like the house I'd lived in for twelve years, nothing had changed with the old theater, but unlike the buildings in my town, it hadn't been refurbished or renovated in any way. It looked as rundown as ever.
Years ago I looked upon this building with fear and excitement, and now I looked upon it with fear and anxiety. I placed my hand on my belly for some support or comfort, but my baby had been strangely still. I could still feel him or her moving about every few minutes - he was alive, but usually he was an unforgiving kicker. And he hadn't been kicking. Maybe he could feel the intensity of the situation we were in? Goosebumps ran through my body, making it tingle. I pulled my coat flaps around me tighter. A movement caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look at Vancha who was subtly glancing around. Again, I found something to be fishy, but this was Vancha. Maybe there was something he knew that I was to find out? None of our other companions found his behaviour to be strange, after all. That made me feel a little hurt, that they'd left me out of the loop. But I trusted their judgement. I'm sure it was for my own good. So I said nothing as we trudged towards the entrance, slowly and cautiously. The first thing I noticed was that the curtains were gone. When Steve and I first encountered this place to watch the Cirque Du Freak, there had been curtains in place. It was gone now. As we neared the auditorium, the heartbeats grew louder. At first I thought it was my own, but with every step I took, it got louder. Louder till the point that it was deafening. And the stench in the air filled my nostrils, the air was saturated with the smell of vampaneze and human vampets. As well as gunpowder. They were ready for us. I tried not to tremble at their sheer numbers. Back in the Cave, we were outnumbered. Here, we were doomed. Death wasn't a risk, it was an eventuality. We stepped into the auditorium, the only sounds were of our thudding footsteps, each one louder than the one before and the thrum of heart beats and breathing in the background. Red eyes shone from the darkness, menacingly eyeing their prey. Which, unfortunately, was us. We waited for them to make their move in the pure blackness of the theater. Then, a powerful spotlight sprang to life right onto us. We gasped, surprised and disoriented. For a few vulnerable moments, I was completely blinded, as were my companions. We were totally open, undefended. It would have been easy to take us out in those few seconds, considering their numbers. Hell, it would have been easy to take us out with those numbers, period. But they didn't. As my vision cleared, my gaze trailed automatically to the stage, where logs stood, obscuring a figure in green robes from my view. But I saw enough of him to know who he was. Near him I saw glimpses of a hook-handed monster, a weary-looking vampaneze looking out of place with his neat appearance, and a miserable-looking, young vampet, his hand gripped the arrow-gun limply by his side. I tried not to contemplate the depressed look on his face, but couldn't help the relief that flooded my body to see that he was still alive. "Steve," I called out quietly. With our superhuman hearing, I could have whispered from several miles away and he would have heard me. "Where's Tommy and Alan?" His eyes rose upwards slowly, to two figures bound and hanging from a rope limply, unconscious. I let out a curse and darted forward, only to be stopped by Harkat's thick, short hand. I growled at him, the low, throaty sound joining the drone of heart beats in the background. I felt a sharp jab as my baby kicked me, sensing my rising anger and concern for my friends. I bit my lip, ceasing my struggle against my best friend. "Steve. What is it that you want?" I forced out through gritted teeth. "Your death. Or the green-haired sire's," Steve shrugged nonchalantly. "You can pick," His voice was calm, accepting. He knew we were nearing the end, as did I. "You think we'll just give up our lives like that?" Vancha scoffed. "Maybe," he said, looking straight at me. "Maybe not. I'm prepared for it, either way," The murderous crowd behind us shifted eagerly at his words, some even hissing impatiently. Some vampets readied their guns, releasing the safety with a click. My companions tensed guardedly, as did I. Was this really and truly the end? I stared at my stomach. Pure, unadulterated fear overcame me. Fear for my unborn child. Why did I decide to come here? It wasn't like me, making stupid decisions like that. I loved this baby so much - so why the hell was I here? I repeated apologies over and over in my head, relying on the telepathic bonds between a mother and her child to convey my message. It kicked me, as if acknowledging my apologies. I smiled slightly at the understanding of my infant and looked up. Steve was staring at me, a look of fury and hate contorting his face. But there was something else there, something he was trying desperately to hide. Was it hurt? I wondered curiously. "So I see the hellspawn still has yet to be born?" He asked, his gaze cold. "You mean your hellspawn?" I snarled back. "No, I mean that pathetic human's hellspawn," He snapped back, spitting the words out from behind gritted teeth. "He's more of a pathetic half-vampaneze," I retorted. His eyes narrowed murderously, and I thought he was going to leap out from behind the log and attack me. Then he let out an exasperated sigh. "So. Are you going to let our two beloved friends die?" He ignored my earlier comment. "Because their lives are in your hands, Darren Shan," He lifted two fingers high in the air, and my two friends came flying down. I sucked in a horrified breath, a second passed as they plunged several metres before stopping abruptly, the rope going taut. Neither Tommy nor Alan stirred. Steve watched my face carefully, grinning at the clear terror on my face. I was panting - my body had reacted to the situation and the adrenaline in my veins beckoned me to bolt forward and save my friends. It was only the constant kicking that held me back. "Come out," Vancha said. "Come out and we'll strike a deal," "Of course..." he said. "Not! You think I'm stupid? The moment I step away from this log you'll strike me down," Steve cackled. "Then how do you want to do this trade?" Vancha asked, his voice rising slightly in irritation. "Hmmm... Let me think," Steve said, pausing thoughtfully, allowing a tense silence to permeate the air. "How about you let the pregnant girl come onto the stage and I'll lower the hostages," "Slowly," I added cautiously. He rolled his eyes. "I'll lower the hostages slowly," "Alive," I added once more, wary of my sadistic ex-lover. He twitched in annoyance. "I'll lower the hostages slowly, and alive," "I don't trust you," I said, finally. He started gritting his teeth. I smirked, strangely happy at being able to rile Steve up. I think my pregnancy hormones were getting to me. "Gannen, help me swear on your life that if Darren comes here we'll let the hostages go in one piece." "I swear on my life that if the Vampire Princess-" Wince. "-comes here, we'll release the hostages unharmed," Gannen's voice came from behind a log. He had yet to show his face, possibly regretting ever blooding Steve. I liked to think so anyway. Or maybe he was feeling guilty at preying on a pregnant girl? Who knows. I tried to divert my thoughts back to the current issue, and I paused, biting my lip. I didn't totally trust them, but at the moment it seemed that we were all going to die anyway. My concern for my baby warred with the concern for my friends. My baby kicked me again and I made my decision. "Fine," I said. Harkat and Vancha obstructed me simultaneously, their enormous arms blocking my way. I brushed my fingers against them gently. "I'll be alright," I told them quietly Vancha dropped his arm first, then nodded at me encouragingly. Harkat hesitated. I patted his hand. "Be careful," he muttered, then lowered his arm as well. The walk to the stage was the most nerve-wracking, dizzying walk of my lifetime. All eyes were on me, watching me for any deviations, ready for any signs of a final desperate attack. My swollen bump throbbed with a dull sort of pain. My baby pressed against me nervously, sensing my distress. Fear and doubt started to cloud my mind. What was I doing? I nearly got onto the stage when the angry sound of bullets being fired filled my ears. My vampire training kicked in and I ducked, rolling away from the stage. A familiar voice cut through the chaos, roaring out orders fiercely, her figure proud and graceful, brown hair falling down her squared shoulders. Debbie! The vampaneze recovered quickly, but the few vulnerable moments they spent re-organising themselves was enough to give the humans an advantage. Vampirites rushed into the theatre, firing their guns at the mass of vampaneze and vampets. Vancha and Harkat went straight for the stage, but was intercepted by a few vampaneze and vampets. I stared from where I had rolled to, crouching in a corner in a mind-numbing daze. What was happening? When did Debbie get here? How did she get in? And was that Alice near her? Then I looked up to my friends. They were still blissfully unconscious - and I intended to keep it that way. The Vampirites seemed to be struggling from the sheer numbers of the vampaneze and vampets. A human was struck down before my eyes, beheaded, then another, and another. Blood flowed endlessly, like a sick imitation of a stream. I tried to get up. I had to help them! But my limbs wouldn't move no matter how I willed them too. I tried to use the fact that Tommy and Alan's lives were at stake as a motivator - but it had no effect. My muscles wouldn't move an inch. Then another group of people rushed in to join the fight - the vampires. My mouth hung open in shock as I recognised Mika's raven black hair among the crowd of scarred vampires, howling excitedly as they joined the fight. Oh my god. Vampaneze and Vampets clashed with Vampires and Vampirites. Blood was everywhere, pooling on the floors, sprayed across the walls. Well, the walls that hadn't been blown to pieces by the various grenades being thrown around casually. Bullets flew in every direction. Bodies had started to pile up already, making a small mountain, becoming a sort of deadly obstacle on the battlefield. Perhaps an attempt of the dead to help their still-living comrades? It was something akin to hell. I always thought that an all-out war would have been better than the time-consuming small battles we'd been fighting. I was wrong. It was awful. Around me, fellow members of the human race fought amongst each other, taking up guns and other equally lethal weapons against each other. Vampires were raising their hands against their blood cousins without blinking. Lives were taken brutally in that theater. The bit of stage before the logs fell away crumbling, to reveal wooden stakes that jutted out dangerously from the ground. It looked eerily similar to the ones in the Cave of Retribution. I stared at it dumbly, barely processing how close my baby and I had come to encountering death. Both the creatures of the undead and the living fell into the pit, screaming and howling agonizingly as they were impaled cruelly. Among the throes, one man stood out to me all the way at the end of the theater, gently caressing his heart-shaped watch, a happy grin on his face. He was enjoying the outcome. Des Tiny. A sudden, all-encompassing rage filled me. If it weren't for him, we wouldn't be fighting. We wouldn't have been running all over the world carrying out self-fulfilling prophecies that he'd delivered to us. It suddenly occurred to me that all this killing, all this fighting? Totally pointless. The one single purpose of it all? To entertain Mr Tiny. To keep him from boredom. Because God forbid Desmond Tiny ever have to live without his entertainment. I was so distracted by my outrage that I didn't notice the water trickling down between my legs, or that what had been a dull pain was increasing in intensity in my lower region. Or the concerned look on a bearded witch who stood rigidly by her father, eyeing the anarchy with hopelessness. It was only when a shuriken had gone flying past my head, and a loud agonised howl came in reply behind me that I snapped out of my enraged reverie. I whirled around, coming face to face with R.V., a shuriken stuck painfully out of his shoulder. He snarled at me. He ignored the sharp object embedded in his shoulder and swiped at me with his hooks. I avoided his attacks with more difficulty than I should have had. My movements seemed more sluggish, slower. That startled me. Being pregnant never really deteriorated my skills to this point. But I had no time to ponder such a thing at that moment. I reached for my sword and swung it at the vampaneze, but my attacks had also decreased in speed and strength. Harkat seemed to have noticed my lack of abilities, if the way he rushed over with his axe was any indication. With Harkat taking care of R.V. I looked around, scanning through the chaos for Steve. An arrow whizzed through the air, narrowly missing my foot. I spotted Steve Leopard by the exit of the theater, and our eyes met. A million messages were conveyed in those precious few seconds, as they always did when I made eye contact with Steve. His eyes were sharp and burned intensely with a range of emotions too deep for me to comprehend. Anger, hurt, bitterness... worry? Before I could further analyse it, he turned and walked out the exit, leaving me behind once again. Gannen followed after him quickly. My body reacted before I could even think about what I was doing. "Vancha!" I threw over my shoulder as I ran - waddled? - over to the exit, determined not to let Steve escape again. To not have to watch his back as he left me once again. "They're getting away!" Vancha spotted me, cursed and pushed away a vampet, rushing over to catch up with me. As I ran towards the theater, I glanced back to where my friends were hanging and sighed with relief as I saw some vampirites lowering them and taking them out of the theater to safety through the backdoor. As we exited the theater I glanced sideways at my fellow Prince. "You knew they were coming," I said accusatorily, thinking of how distracted he'd seemed before we entered the theater. Was he communicating with the vampires even then? And yet he'd kept me out of it. He glanced back at me, a halfway sheepish look on his face. He seemed guilty about it... But knew it was necessary and had accepted it. "I did what I had to," he said finally. I said nothing in reply, feeling offended. Had my actions really indicated to my comrades that my loyalty was wavering? Because it wasn't. I definitely cared for Steve, but I still wasn't convinced that his side was the right one. And no way in hell was I going to kill a human every time I feed. "They're not going to flit, are they?" I asked Vancha, keeping my eyes glued on the two figures in the distance. "No. They know this is the end too. This is where everything is decided," Vancha replied, seeming relieved that I'd changed the subject. For a while we continued jogging after them in silence, both thinking deeply about what we had to do. They kept going, until we reached the rear of the stadium - the same one Steve and I had been in, watching our friend Tommy fight for his team. They were headed towards the river. Steve and Gannen jogged along the riverbank, approaching the arch of a bridge spanning the river and slowed. They seemed to be having an argument. Gannen seemed to want to take Steve on his back and flit to safety but Steve was having none of it. He slapped away Gannen's hands, gesturing furiously. Vancha and I sped up as we closed in on them. "You should go back," he said quietly. I glared at him, turning to him furiously. He seemed to be grinning. "Is what I'd say, but I can see that there's no way I can persuade you to leave," "Of course not," I snorted. "To the death, sire?" he asked me. "To the death," I replied grimly. "Even your child's?" Vancha said, his voice low and worried. "I don't know," I replied, the threat of death of my beloved child finally dawning on me. When Steve left the theater, all I could think about was chasing after him. But now that Vancha had mentioned it... "Leave all the fighting to me," Vancha said finally. "If needed, you can back me up. But otherwise... I don't want you involved," Normally, I would be quite offended. But all I felt was relief. Even more so due to the ache in my midriff and the wetness of my shorts. Something was wrong. But I couldn't mention it to Vancha, not now at this urgent moment. I had a role to play now - a Vampire Prince. Besides, it's not as if my baby had stopped kicking me. He or she was fine. I hoped. Gannen seemed to have submitted to Steve, as usual, and they waited under the bridge for us, weapons at the ready. I could hear Mr Tiny and Evanna close behind us, eager to watch the future unfold. This was it. The final moment. This was what the fate of the world rode on. And I hoped dearly that if it was a bad destiny, I wouldn't be the one to have caused it.While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
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