Amaranthine

Chapter 7

Katelina cringed back against the wall, the dead candle still gripped in her hand, invaders not far from her, but invisible in the darkness.

Michael's horse cries grew louder in the nearby room as he called the newcomers to him. She pressed herself tighter against the wall, trying to be invisible as the footsteps drew nearer.

Someone grabbed her and pulled her into the open. In her panic she let go of the candle nub and scrabbled to free herself one handed. A thick masculine voice spoke over Michael's cries, "Well, well, it seems Jorick's trying to hide a little treat from us! Wants it all to himself, does he?" The laughter that followed made her blood run cold.

A cool hand touched her face and slid towards her lips. Thoughtlessly she sank her teeth into it. As he cried out, she jerked her knee upwards and caught him in either the groin or the stomach.

When he released her she did the only thing she could think of - she ran towards the locked door, and hopefully Jorick.

She slid to a stop and banged on it with a clenched fist, shouting for the man who'd invited her into this nightmare. She didn't know anything else to do and her panic screamed too loudly to come up with a plan.

A cold hand closed around her throat and pulled her backwards with almost inhuman strength. She heard herself scream, but it sounded foreign and far away. She gripped her cell phone tightly in her hand and tried to use it like a rock to hit her attacker about the head. He caught her hand and squeezed it until she cried out and the phone slipped from her fingers. She heard it hit the floor, followed by a sickening crunch as he stomped on it.

Before she was able to wail a sorrowful, "Nooooo!", he stabbed her in the shoulder with something sharp. A burning sensation shot down her arm and she cried out both in surprise and pain.

The door jerked open and Jorick stood in the doorway, framed in a glaring blaze of light. His black hair was wild about his face. Blood splattered across his pale features and his dark eyes were filled with anger. As if to make the scene more surreal, he brandished a bloodstained sword.

Without a word, he pulled her from her attacker and threw her behind himself. The intruder lunged and Jorick lashed out at him with the blade.

Katelina stood frozen, terrified, while she watched what felt like a scene from an old movie. The sword flashed in the light, while the attacker expertly dodged. Was he trained? He'd have to have training to do that, right?

And what about Jorick? He knew how to use a sword? He looked like-like-she couldn't remember the actor's name, but her mother had watched him in old black and white movies.

How was some weird junkie squatter trained in sword fighting?

The question disappeared from her mind as the attacker lunged past Jorick and nearly crashed into her. She stumbled back, tripping over a piece of flaming wood. With a cry, she hopped away from it, her eyes drawn over the rest of the basement. The pile of wooden crates was ablaze, like a miniature bonfire without the fun. Something lay nearby, also engulfed in fire. It looked like- a body?

Her eyes bounced away from it to find two more, unburned. They lay face down on the basement floor. Dark puddles spread beneath them.

The sound of feet pounded down the stairs and Katelina looked to see someone running down them. He hopped over the last few, bounced around the fire, and landed by Jorick. He snatched for the sword, but Jorick dodged away. The first attacker took advantage of the distraction to pounce on him, but Jorick knocked him away, so that he slammed into the back wall near the door.

With a snarl, he spun toward the newcomer and threw him back. The man screamed as he landed in the middle of the flames, sending up a shower of sparks and flaming wood.

Katelina jumped back, hands up to block the cinders. The man's shrieks grew louder as he pulled himself out of the fire, his body already engulfed. His flaming arms waved as he beat at himself, his cries reaching a fevered pitch of agony and terror that made Katelina want to save him.

Water. She needed water-

Jorick grabbed her arm. "No. Leave him."

"But-"

His attacker lunged again, and Jorick neatly thrust the sword through his chest. He fell back, stumbling through the doorway to land in the dark corridor. Jorick paused indecisively over his body, and then quickly turned away.

"Come on!" He grabbed Katelina's arm and tugged her after him. The wooden beams above their heads began to catch fire and the thick smoke rolled against the ceiling.

"The stairs," she cried and pointed desperately to their only escape.

"No. There are more of them upstairs. This way."

He pulled her to another padlocked door. Though he didn't bother with his keys, he only kicked the door to shreds in one smooth motion and dashed though it. The darkness quickly swallowed them as the tunnel twisted and turned, going ever upwards. Katelina glanced over her shoulder time and again, eyes scratching the darkness for signs of pursuers, but she saw nothing.

At last Jorick stopped. He released her hand and threw open a trap door above them. Cool moonlight spilled down into the corridor and she shrank back from it.

Jorick pulled himself through the opening. He motioned for her to stay where she was, then disappeared from her sight. He was back in a moment, crouched at the edge of the opening. "It's clear, come on." He held his blood stained hand to her and she took it, too numb to care. He pulled her up into the night where she collapsed on the dewy grass and gasped mouthfuls of fresh air.

"We must not linger; we may yet be followed." He slammed the trapdoor shut and busied himself locking it from the outside.

Katelina sat up and nodded mutely, all of her limbs shaking. She tried desperately to catch her breath and gasped out the question, "Who... who were they?"

Jorick sighed. The moonlight made his skin gleam white and turned the blood splatters into splotches of black. "Vampires," he said quietly. "They were Vampires. Just like Michael."

Katelina stared at him for a moment, waiting for the punch line. When one didn't come she threw back her head and laughed. "Of course they were!" In that moment it seemed the slender thread that separated waking from nightmares had snapped, and she suspected she'd never see a Twinkie again.