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The Awakening—The Bride
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Her eyelids flew open, no longer consumed by darkness. She looked around wildly as her vision cleared, and a pair of emerald irises met hers. A young man with golden hair leaned over her, his face mere inches from hers. His bright, dancing gaze tamed her in place. She couldn’t remove her eyes from those two beautiful specks of green light. He smiled down at her with a hint of allure, danger.
She liked it.
“Welcome to the new world, Bride. I am Vale, and you are going to be the most magnificent creature the world has ever seen.”
Bride opened her mouth to speak, but a sharp pain in her chest halted her. An ache around her heart stirred, a craving for chaos and destruction. It sat in the deepest part of her soul, begging to be filled, yet she didn’t move.
“Vale.” The name, his name, rolled across her tongue like wildfire. She treasured it.
“Are you ready?” The ache in her chest rose with his question. She knew what he was asking her.
Vale pulled her up to a sitting position. Bride’s legs, ready to move, dangled over the metal edge of a cool silver table. A white gown, like a waterfall made of silk, spilled down her body to her ankles. She didn’t remember wearing this—then again, she couldn’t remember how she had gotten here. With a growing curiosity, she held out her hands in front of her, and a spark popped from the tips of her fingers. A buzzing sensation pulsed through her entire body. Bride focused on it, concentrating on the electricity and gathering it into her palms.
As she thrust her hand forward, a bolt of electricity shot out from her palms, slamming against the wall, shattering like glitter. She smiled to herself with gratification when the bright light created a deafening pop.
“I am ready,” Bride said, determination filling her with a will to do whatever he wanted.
Vale nodded and clapped his hands loudly in front of his chest. One minute she was seated on the table, and the next she stood on the floor with glass objects surrounding her. Glass machinery was positioned directly above her. She lowered her head and scanned the area until she found Vale in the middle of the room.
He wore a white shirt of the same material as her dress, ruffles positioned down the center of his chest. His face beamed with malice, and she wanted to be a part of whatever gave him that pleasure.
With inhuman speed, Vale moved to where she stood and held a hand out to her. “Lead us,” he instructed.
Bride shook the stiffness from her arms and took hold of his hand. The warmth of his fingertips awakened something positively wicked inside of her. She couldn’t help but feel enkindled by his attention and soft touch.
Lifting the skirt of her dress, Bride rigidly stepped down from her box with Vale’s aid. Like her, other lovely creatures were leaving their own confinements.
Bride fixed her gaze on Vale as he led her to a hallway. Together, they walked, and they walked, and while they did, a slight sense of familiarity rushed through her, as though she had been down these halls before. Ornate wallpaper lined the walls, and crystal chandeliers hung from above.
Vale came to a stop as they reached the end of the hall, a door standing between them and what waited outside. He pointed to the golden handle and bowed low, waiting for her to make the first move. She pressed forward, throwing open the door in one swift movement, and stepped out into the darkness which called to her very heart. This was what she thirsted for.
With a glance over her shoulder, Bride stared at the others behind her, all of whom had followed her into the darkness. She scanned the crowd, her gaze stilling on a young woman wearing a blue patch over her left eye. A crazed smile was spread across the woman’s face—she wanted the same thing as Bride. Something then tugged at Bride, telling her to go after the woman, to chase her down, or cry out for her. But then, unintentionally, a small crackle of light slipped from her palm, striking the ground at the woman’s feet.
Bride refocused, the moment forgotten.
As she turned her head back around, Bride searched for Vale, finding him farther up ahead, his eyes narrowed at the other immortals. She caught up with him in a matter of moments, then he placed his hand against her lower back as he spoke to the others.
“This was your home.” Vale flicked his hand back at the building. “Within the Glass Vault you have become immortal. Those who you use your power on will become glass, and their souls transported back here. We need as many as we can get for now, but I want them all. You will obey my rules or there will be many ways to be punished. We are going to take everyone. Follow her.” He motioned at her. “The Bride will lead us on our path to elimination, and then we will separate to finish.”
“I will help lead,” a voice called from the crowd.
Furrowing her brow, Bride whirled around to a young woman walking toward them. Her thick red hair cascaded down her shoulders and her silky blue dress swished as she moved.
“Do not belittle me, Red,” Vale growled. “You will have much to answer for if you dare speak out again.”
She lifted her chin in defiance, slowly approaching Bride, the woman’s brown irises boring into hers. “Do you remember me?”
Bride didn’t answer.
The woman bared her teeth as she grinned. “My name is Fannie.”
Bride studied the immortal, finding nothing familiar about her. The electricity crackled in her palms once more, and she drew up her hand to strike the woman in her pretty face.
Vale was faster, though. He grabbed the back of Fannie’s neck and squeezed it. Fannie’s grin twisted into a grimace, and Bride smiled.
“I’m warning you. If you oppose the Bride or me, I will end you in seconds. Do you understand?”
Fannie remained quiet, her face pale.
“I said, do you understand?” He shook her back and forth like a little doll. One that Bride would make broken.
“Yes, Master,” Fannie grunted.
Vale tossed her to the side and she stumbled backward, catching herself before crashing to the ground. He turned his back on her again and faced Bride.
“Don’t forget what your father would do if something happens to me,” Fannie said, her lip curled into a snarl.
Vale flexed his beautiful hands and balled them into tight fists. He then jolted toward her, slapping Fannie across the face. A thunderous sound clapped as Fannie’s head was thrown to the side. With a vicious smile, she slowly brought her face back to him but remained silent.
“Do not mention my father again,” Vale ground out.
He settled his gaze back on Bride, and his furious expression turned to one of delectation. “Begin.”
Without hesitation, Bride moved forward. She could feel the immortals’ eyes on her back as she took her first steps onto a paved road full of sky-scraping trees. Into the night they followed, driven by the need to destroy. Destroy. Destroy.
When the first civilian came into Bride’s view, she didn’t hesitate. She lit up with white crackling light and hurled her first bolt of electricity at the young male. A rush of satisfaction stormed through her as his skin ignited and froze into glass. He didn’t even have a chance to scream. His soul would now be at the Glass Vault for Vale to do with as he chose.
The world spun for a moment, a dazed feeling washing over her. But then her body relaxed, and she wanted to do more, to taste that darkness again.
After the first soul was claimed, the immortals trailing after her responded in a monstrous uproar. Fueled by their desire, and hers, for more, Bride led them down streets, cutting off electricity, phone lines, and lighting the world up with her power. The more civilians she turned to glass, no matter how thrilled she was, the more she needed to continue. She ached for it.
By morning, the civilians in town had become more aware of what was happening, and chaos ensued. They tried to pack their families into cars and flee, but they were too slow. Guns were fired, knives thrown, gasoline and matches attempted to strike, but nothing from humanity could stop an immortal.
After several days, the immortals separated in their own directions, leaving only Bride, Vale, and Fannie. Bride wanted Fannie to leave—she yearned to have Vale to herself—but the woman remained.
“Can we rest?” Bride asked, her lids fluttering from lack of sleep. Unlike the slap he would have given to Fannie, Vale lifted her chin with a gentle touch.
“Try,” he whispered, his emerald gaze locked onto hers. She knew he trusted her and believed in her strength.
Because Bride believed in him too, she held her palms up in front of her and willed the spark to life. A tiny flicker popped, then the light snuffed out.
“I can’t.” She furrowed her brow, growing frustrated with herself. But he only nodded, while Fannie clenched her jaw and gave her a dark look, dripping with hatred.
They trekked to the nearest house, a two-story with a wide porch and white-washed wooden balcony. Vale charged to the porch and kicked the door open, breaking the deadbolt. A heat flowed through her body at his raw strength and inhuman speed and went straight to her center. She wanted him then and there, flesh to flesh.
Screaming went off inside her, and she shook her head to clear it.
Setting the odd feeling aside, she followed Vale down a narrow hallway to a living room. She took a deep breath and inhaled jasmine and refocused once more. A spark of energy popped in her hands when she found an old couple huddled on the floor behind the couch, their bodies trembling, their eyes open wide in horror.
“Please leave us be,” the old man begged.
He gripped his wife’s wrinkled hand tightly. Beads of perspiration dotted his sun-spotted forehead. The man pulled his wife closer into his side to shield her as best he could. Bride wasn’t the least bit moved by the gesture—she wanted to feel her power again and destroy.
She lifted her hands, willing enough energy to create a spark, then unleashed a bright bolt that illuminated the room. It hit the woman first, and the man released a choking sob as he held his wife’s glass body. Bride listened to his beautiful cries a moment longer before taking him next. A sense of fulfillment rushed over her as the couple cradled each other in their glass positions.
“I will be back shortly.” Vale nodded his approval and left the room.
Bride sank into the cushions of an old floral couch while the statues of glass hovered behind. Fannie lingered in the room, watching Bride the entire time. The blue skirts of her dress swished as she approached and lowered herself beside Bride. She propped her elbow on the back of the couch and gazed at the side of Bride’s face.
Bride chose to ignore her and examined the many-framed photos of loved ones hung across the wall. It was far more interesting than engaging in a staring war with the one immortal she wanted dead.
“You know,” Fannie drawled, “you are only his marionette. Eventually, he will cut your strings and toss you aside. Then there will be a new one to take your place that he will latch the threads onto.”
Her words burned, and for a moment, she wondered if he really would do that to her. Toss her aside for someone else? Vale called her his Bride—the Bride—and he wanted her to lead, not Fannie. She shoved the words away as if they meant nothing because Fannie was nothing.
“You wish,” Bride said and continued to stare straight ahead without blinking.
In an instant, Fannie pressed a knife into Bride’s throat. Her head pushed back against the couch as the blade bit into her flesh.
“You may be immortal, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun with you.” She inched the blade closer to the scar at Bride’s throat. “Maybe I’ll just peel off your skin, bit by tiny bit. I’ll begin with this soft little nose of yours. Maybe slice it off?”
Fannie grabbed Bride’s nose with her free hand and squeezed, pinching it to the right. Anger brewed within her, creating a storm of wild fury. Bride’s fingernails dug into the skirt of her silk dress to keep her power from unleashing.
“And what would Vale do if you delivered on your threat?” Bride asked.
Fannie threw her head back and laughed hysterically. “Vale? What is the worst he can do? Shove me back in my cage or send me back to the Underworld? His father would destroy him. He already has.”
Bride frowned—her last words hadn’t made sense. “What do you mean by that? How has his father destroyed him?”
Fannie released Bride’s nose, but the cold steel remained pressed against her throat. “Tut-tut-tut. Enough talk for now.” She pulled the knife away and slipped it back into her dress. “But maybe you’re not so special after all, are you, Bride?”
Bride brushed her fingertips across her throat, and her nostrils flared. The blade might have been gone, but her anger demanded to be free. She balled her hand into a fist and threw a flash of electricity at Fannie’s chest. The immortal flew off the couch and slammed against the sheetrock, her body knocking down a shelf of figurines from the wall. As she crashed to the floor, surrounded by shattered ceramic, Fannie cackled with laughter.
“Silly girl, you can’t turn immortals into glass.” She stood with her spine pulled taut, her hand rubbing at her chest. “Still, it hurts like fire to the skin.”
“Good.” Bride smiled, threatening her with another small current in her palm.
Fannie watched the energy in Bride’s hand spark to life, seeming hesitant. “Believe what you want, but you truly are only temporary. Have fun with him while it lasts, little puppet.” With a smirk as though nothing happened, Fannie swayed her hips and sat on the couch. If Bride could sew Fannie’s eyes and mouth shut, she would use the immortal’s red hair as the thread.
The front door squeaked open as Vale returned.
“The street is clear for now. We will begin again in the morning after you have time to rest.” His eyes and words were for Bride only. The fact he didn’t acknowledge Fannie made her chest swell with pride.
“Where should we sleep?” Fannie asked, as though she would be the one riding Vale into bliss tonight.
“You can choose wherever you wish to sleep,” Vale snapped at her. “Let us find somewhere upstairs.” He held his open palm out to Bride, and she took his perfect hand, tightening her fingers around his warmth.
“But—” Fannie stopped short, halted by the hard, icy look in his stare. The immortal could pretend she wasn’t afraid of him all she wanted, but she was. Fannie’s gaze shifted to Bride, murderous.
“I am going to take a shower. Join me?” Vale’s face softened as he asked Bride. His eyes mirrored the same emotion that danced in hers—he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
Bride’s lips tilted upward and she grasped him through his pants, his hard length ready for her. “Yes.”
A low groan escaped his throat as she gripped him harder before releasing him. With that final exchange, Bride led him up the stairs to create a storm of their own.
