Calen
Midnight was a glimpse away; the hours passed as if minutes were dust that flew out of a broken hourglass. There were desolate shafts of light that would peek into the streets, trying hard to shed themselves over the darkened corners of the city, all in vain. The dust filled the air, casting its shadow over the towers of Calen. If one would gaze at the city from afar, they’d think that a sandstorm had caught the pillars of every building with its rough claws.
Along with the darkness, there wasn’t a single moment of silence. Not a second passed without the heavy sound of cracking, or confused screams, or the zapping of wires ripped out of their circuits. The city itself was crumbling, along with the people inside it.
In the suburbs, the Skolar house sat in ruins. Shingles were strewn about on either side of the house, and the grass looked as if it was reaching out to swallow the crushed skeleton of what remained of the house. Half the grass had yellowed from lack of sun, but oddly continued to grow. The other half had been scorched. Only the basement was the only part that laid untouched, unharmed by the constant hail of fire that fell from the gargoyles’ breath onto the streets of Calen.
Further into the city, the majestic gothic structure of Calen High stood proud. Oddly, with minor damage done to it. As Adelaide’s hybrids roamed the dust ridden corners of the city, Marcus waited inside.
We’re all doomed.
Marcus stepped out of the principal’s office, where he had spent the past few days regaining his strength. He stretched, letting his fangs elongate and retract, as if making sure they would still obey his will. He gazed down the dark, empty hallways, wondering how this could have happened.
It’d been nearly two weeks since the door had been opened.
By the end of the first day, it was no secret the hybrids were out. Adelaide made sure everyone—mortal or supernatural—knew her forces were taking over the city. Marcus remembered it clearly, as if it had happened just yesterday. He’d been in his thirteenth-floor office, surrounded by the best of his guards, when the heavy roaring of the wind first began to howl through the city. It was followed by the sound of shattering windows and the fusion of metals bombarding into one another.
Marcus had stepped out onto the terrace of his office, surrounded by a thick blanket of dust and wind that prevented him from seeing anything further than a few feet away. He had felt the grains scrape against his skin and eyes, threatening to engulf him, making sure Adelaide’s hybrids could operate under its shroud unhindered.
He knew he could not be compelled by the hybrids, knew that the elders of the Vampire clan were immune to the beasts’ trickery. Still, there was little they could do when they couldn’t see, or sense, the enemy.
Adelaide had clearly been counting on that.
She’s bloody planned every step. Been planning for years.
The memory still burned in the back of his mind. How he’d walked back into his office to find his guards dead. How the wind had howled all around him and red eyes had peeked through the clouds of dust surrounding him. They’d come for him, three of the beasts, eager to rid themselves of the threat Marcus posed to their dominance. They were a formidable force, but he had no intention of letting them win. In the end, he’d gotten the better of them. He could still feel their green hearts pounding in his palm before he crushed them.
If only we could’ve controlled them.
Marcus barked in laughter and shook his head. Even now, alone and without a plan, he was thinking of how he could use this attack to his advantage. The desire to be the dominant race, to be king of all, was etched in his every bone, and the fact that he was now prey to something even more superior bothered him tremendously.
The Druids. I need to find the Druids.
But even that idea seemed senseless. James was the last Druid, and he hadn’t seen the man since the nightmare had started. Atlanta was missing, too. Marcus knew James was dead, but Atlanta... what had happened to her?
Not that I would know. I’ve been locked up in here for a fortnight.
Even though the hybrids had fallen, he had taken quite a beating. It had taken all his strength to storm out of the lair and find his way here, to hide in the shadows and regain his strength. His healing had taken time, more time than he was used to, and he knew it was because of the poison that coursed through Adelaide’s hybrids.
He’d been frozen by her charms before.
An anger burned deep inside him as he walked down the empty corridors of Calen High. Every few steps, his eyes would catch the decaying corpse of a fallen human. He had fed on the ones still alive when he’d arrived.
Students torn to shreds, teachers gasping blood. They were going to die anyway, and he’d needed all the blood he could get to recover. Now their corpses looked like mangled pieces of flesh, the rot they emitted burning his sinuses.
We need to regroup.
Marcus scoffed at the thought. Regroup where? And how? He didn’t even know if there was anyone alive who could fight alongside him. He knew he couldn’t trust anyone other than the elders of his own group, yet he doubted even their survival. He was going to have to find out either way. They would need everyone able to fight against Adelaide and the hybrids.
Inside the nearly unmoving corridors, the whistling sound of water running down the broken dispensers barely muffled the screaming outside. The costume of the school mascot lay on the floor of the hallway, torn to pieces. Marcus walked on the ceramic floors that were tiled in blue and red squares, between open lockers with their hinges scattered around the floor. Pages torn from books were dust-ridden and flying about. He made his way to the back exit of the school.
It was nearly dusk outside, the crickets barely whispering as the football goalposts turned a pale shade of yellow. Marcus sprinted towards the posts, one after the other, testing his strength and making sure he was fully recovered before he could venture beyond the protection of Calen High.
I need to find the others.
Even though his centuries’-old pride whispered at the back of his mind that he alone could take down an empire of hybrids, he remembered he was also the reason this was happening. It was his blood that gave birth to the malice that encompassed the city.
It might not be directly, but he was responsible for everything.
He couldn’t shake the thought that, without the Druids, they couldn’t have stood a chance against the hybrids a century before. He remembered how the Werewolves had fought alongside the Druids in the insurgence, a massive force he’d marveled at. Back then, it had seemed like the Vampires were actually holding everyone down. Marcus scowled at the memory. They’d been so helpless back then.
As they were helpless now.
The level of humiliation Adelaide had thrown upon his race enraged him.
Never again.
He leapt from the tall football bleachers, frowning as his eyes glowed a bloody shade of red. His movements were swift as he dashed across the field and left the temporary haven of Calen High. He roamed every street and every rooftop of every tower in Calen. And as his feet pounded the concrete of the streets, his eyes could still see his own Vampires glaring at him as he ran. Some tried to reach for him, and he slashed through them as if they were paper, ripping them apart with a sickening ease he took no comfort in.
They’re not mine anymore. They’re compelled.
Marcus searched many places before finally reaching the three towers where James Skolar had been. The dust seemed less dense here, and the green of the forests behind him glowed in the morning sun. His eyes were met by the flickering of red light on top of one of the roofs, a little underneath from where the sun was shining.
He dashed into the building, and within seconds found himself crashing through the rooftop door. His feet crunched on the pebble-covered floor, his eyes catching sight of the destruction across the neighboring towers.
There’s been a fight here.
The ground to his right had been carved with a body that was missing, and his keen eyesight caught droplets of caked blood on the pebbles around. There were stains of blood at the right corner of the roof, and he caught a whiff of something pungent, something dark.
From the corner of his eye, he caught movement.
Marcus turned quickly, immediately ready for a fight, fangs stretched and craving to sink themselves in flesh. A few yards away his eyes fell on a body, motionless except for the rise and fall of labored breathing.
Marcus relaxed, retracting his fangs as the harsh reality sunk in.
Ryan Toller.