Orion
Loudly, his heart pounded against his ribs, loud enough that he thought they might break. Pressed against the rough, stone wall, he struggled to control his breathing, forcing himself to be calm so they wouldn't hear him. The footsteps, that echoed in the corridors.
His left fist clenched around a knife, while his right held the small flashlight he had stolen from John's room. He had asked the doctor for a refill of medications, only to take advantage of the moment. The temptation had been great to take one of the scalpels and ram it into the owner's flesh. To vent his anger on the elf. To yell at him. To shake him. For the way he could simply eat while knowing that a child was trapped in this place. Could be bitten at any moment. That cold-hearted indifference.
Typical elf.
Damn elf.
He didn't do it. And in the end, he was glad. John didn't stop him. No one stopped him. The castle was like a ghost town as he stealthily descended the floors. At least until now. Until the bottom floor. Hardly had he reached it and paused to orient himself, the echoes had traveled through the hall. Warned him, so that without thinking, he turned into a corridor, then into the next, sneaking along the wall, breathing shallowly, forcing his heart to calm down.
Quiet, Orion, quiet.
Remember your training.
You're a rebel. One of the best. Not just a simple slave.
With his eyes closed, he focused. On the fights. All the fights he had fought before. When he was still free. By the side of his men. He focused on the training. Orion had never been good at sneaking, he was used to using his anger, his rage, in battle, like a weapon. But now he had to calm down. He had to find this place. The eye of the storm. Everything in him could continue to rage. His emotions could roar and howl and tug at him, but he had to find the center. The calm.
Slowly, deliberately, quietly, he exhaled and listened to the footsteps. The voices.
"...Ambassador of Midnight. Just like that. If she messes with them, I'm out. They're by far the most powerful family. Involved in everything."
"Don't forget Ataraxia. They're the oldest. And the richest."
There was a brief silence, then a pensive sound. "But have you heard the rumors? About the head of the family?"
"Oh, they're just rumors."
"But..."
"Shh!" the sentence was interrupted. "Do you smell that? Smells like human.!"
Silence again. Then the sound of sniffing. Scenting. By the damn dawn. "Surely not...?"
"Come!" Footsteps abruptly changed direction, became faster. Coming towards him. Exactly in his direction.
Orion didn't hesitate but whirled around and ran, his fist clenched around the knife, almost convulsively. He dared not turn on the light. He knew he could only distract the shifters in the darkness, hoping they weren't of a species that possessed night vision.
Blindly, he stormed ahead, his heart immediately leaping, pounding in his throat, behind his temples, as he reached out a hand to avoid stumbling in the darkness of the corridors.
Although his tall figure always made plenty of noise, the carpet muffled the steps of his bare soles, leaving only a slight, soft, rapid drumming sound, while behind him, two other drums beat. Fast, rushing. Voices flew over the noise. He didn't listen. He didn't pay attention.
His heart raced.
He felt the pursuers at his back. Felt his skin crawl, felt it reverberate through his entire body. Faster!
Faster!
Orion couldn't be caught. Not now. He had to get away. He had to find his men. Get Lin out of here. Before something happened.
Before it happened.
What always happened to children. Over and over again. He himself didn't want to have any. No, wrong, he didn't want any here. In this world of darkness. When he brought the sun. When he set everything right. Then. Yes, then.
He knew too well what happened to children. How quickly it happened. Had heard the stories. Seen wounds. Open and healed.
I can't let that happen.
Sliding, he darted into another corridor, briefly evading the gaze of the shifters, looking around frantically, his breath intermittent, his body tense. Tense like a weapon about to go off.
He gripped the knife even tighter.
If they were just servants, he might have a chance. He could fight.
Kill.
Steps again behind him. So close. Running. Closer. Even closer.
They were just shifters. Killing them shouldn't be a problem. And yet.
And yet.
Orion reached out, feeling for the wall, pushing forward, his heart hammering, his breath loud. Betraying. He didn't pay attention. If he found a way out, he might be able to lose them. Or find a dark corner where he could wrestle them to the ground. Not dead. But unconscious.
If only—
They were behind him. His breath caught. At the same time, the rough stone gave way under his groping hand. Suddenly, there was no wall.
His head snapped around, eyes wide open. He saw stone. Right in front of him. Stone. And his hand plunged right into it. Into the solid wall. For just a fraction of a second, he could gaze at it. Bewildered. Confused.
Then gravity pulled at him, and he fell straight through the wall he saw but didn't feel. Like an illusion. A picture in the air.
There and yet intangible.
Eventually, his body did what he had expected in the first moment. Collided with something hard. Stony. A gasp was forced from his mouth, pain shooting through his shoulder, but he had no time for it.
Couldn't hesitate for a moment. Couldn't catch his breath.
Immediately, he whirled around, bracing himself, the servants were there. Were close.
He tensed. Crouched down. His muscles twitched. The corridor was shrouded in darkness, like most of this place. Unlike during the waking cycle, when light flooded every corner, it was dimmed, retreated, allowing the shadows to take over the areas between the walls, in a raid of eternal night. Only a few lamps burned in the corridor where Orion had stumbled, at head height, dimmed, just enough light for him to recognize the two figures running down the corridor and stopping abruptly at his level.
His grip tightened around the knife, he gritted his teeth as he watched the two figures. Male and female. They turned their heads. The sparse light caught the man's eyes, making them gleam, reflect. Cat, or something similar.
Sun, help me. He'll see me!
He had to see him.
Turned his head. Glittering, shining eyes met Orion's. Met him. His eyes. Wide open. Hectic. For a fraction of a second. Then he turned away, raised his head. Sniffed. "Gone."
The female shifter followed suit, frowning. "One of the blood slaves?" She glanced at the other. "We should report this."
"Are you crazy? Haven't you heard what she did to Devan when he didn't move out of her way fast enough? He should be glad he didn't lose that arm," the other shifter retorted, fear between the letters.
His companion sighed and turned away. "If anyone finds out about this, we're dead."
"Then no one better find out. Come on, the laundry won't do itself."
With that, the two shifters hurried down the corridor without noticing Orion. Without attacking him. Without seeing him. How was that possible? He stood barely five feet deep in the corridor, even with the sight of a human they should have spotted him, and yet... and yet.
It must be this corridor.
He himself hadn't been able to see it. There had only been stone. Only wall. And yet he had been able to step through it as if it were nothing.
His hand wandered to the doctor's flashlight, the one he had shone in his eyes, ages ago, the day before, and he turned it on, shining it down the corridor where he found himself abruptly again.
A black abyss greeted him, a staircase leading directly into it. Repelling and inviting at the same time.
Orion knew he had no time. That he had to disappear before anyone from the harem noticed his disappearance. Or worse, her.
What would she do? The same as with the other vampire? Or with the witch?
No. Don't think about it.
Instead, he swallowed, braced himself, and stepped deeper into the darkness, one hand braced against the wall, the other shining down into the blackness.
And he descended the stairs. Immersed himself.
A feeling stirred in his stomach. As if he were facing something unknown. Something hidden. Even though the knowledge pounded in his head that time was running out.
He had to see what awaited him down here.
Had to know.
Curiosity was a bad trait. It brought death. He knew that. But he couldn't resist.
So he followed the stairs, step by step, down, the air was dry and clammy, in the darkness his heartbeat was loud, his breath even louder, both pushing against the deafening silence.
It was as if he was leaving the castle behind, leaving this whole world behind, diving into a completely new darkness, and his thoughts raced, yet he could hardly grasp one, yet there was hardly anything else except the knowledge. The knowledge that he had to see what awaited him in the end. With his own eyes. It drew him in.
Suddenly the stairs ended and he found himself in a room. A large, elongated, darkened room. Smooth surfaces flashed as the beam of the flashlight passed over them, giving shadows shapes and structures, gradually peeling them out of the darkness in which they merged, barely discernible.
Glass. It reflected the light. Glasses. Long and narrow. Next to them, bottles, some new and modern, others corked and sealed with wax, the surface dull and blind from the dust of several decades.
In addition, he saw equipment. Things he didn't recognize. Alien. Yet something about them tugged at his thoughts. He had seen something similar. In the workshops of witches they had raided. They too had possessed such things. Things to create magic, weave curses, alchemy. Knowledge that the creatures of the night jealously guarded. And then the books. So many books. Cabinets replaced the walls of the vault, the... laboratory? Not the one where flesh was grown, new seedlings for the greenhouses, but still it seemed to have the same aura. The same soul. Only twisted. Wrong. Like everything else in this place.
A laboratory.
Did it belong to the vampire? It must belong to her.
Did Virion know about it? One of the others? Whatever this monster was doing here, it couldn't be anything good. If he could show them, they would quickly change their minds.
The beast had secrets.
Somehow, this knowledge loosened a knot in his chest, one he hadn't known was there, had been gathering there, gaining size, gaining weight.
It's because of how everyone talks about her here. As if she was a saint and not an undead monster.
Yes, that must be it. But he had proof that there was more to it. More to everything. And when he returned with his men, he would uncover the secrets.
Orion turned away. It itched in his fingers to look around, to find out what her plan was. Too long. It would take too long. And he had to get away. Every single minute counted.
So he hurried back up the stairs. Determined to come back.
And to bring all her secrets to light.
To prove that this monster was just as depraved, corrupt, and malicious as they all were.
A vampire.
And all vampires were the same.
***
It shouldn't be that easy.
Those words kept echoing in his head, circling around. After escaping from the lab, further fleeing had been a breeze. Apparently, the events of the day had shaken everyone up and kept them preoccupied. Four times he had to stealthily hide from patrols, either between buildings or in the thorny shrubbery that lined the paths, tearing his hands, his face, and his bare feet. But he wasn't discovered. They were gargoyles. Lacking the keen nose of a shifter and with glowing coals for eyes, they gave themselves away in the night from a hundred feet away, easily.
Unseen, Orion made it to the gate in the wall.
It was a massive thing of bulky, intricate iron, thick as his thigh, winding in complex patterns. He was sure he recognized symbols of power within them. As if these vampires had to protect themselves from other creatures.
From this vantage point, sheltered in one of the thorn bushes, Orion paused and looked up. Such symbols wouldn't stop him. They kept out magical creatures, curses, and the like, but he was only human. In his experience, the defense wouldn't work against him.
However, it couldn't be that easy,
Not by a long shot.
Or could it?
The gate was locked, but he was sure he could squeeze through the twists and turns of the symbols if he really had to. Perhaps even without dislocating his arm. Not that it would have been much trouble for him. It wouldn't have been the first time.
He cast a tense glance over his shoulder between the branches of the thorny scrub. The castle loomed there like a lurking predator, with countless dimly glowing eyes, and the sense that she was there.
Would she get angry? Surely. Just like before.
Perhaps she would then tear one of the men to pieces, just as she had with the vampire.
They don't deserve any better. Don't dwell on it. They chose this fate. No pity, boy, not for this bunch. Not for these traitors to all living things.
Not for them.
Focus on your task!
Why should he feel bad for them? John had helped him, but he had also done nothing to improve Lin's situation. Virion had promised to help, but so far he hadn't even tried. And Kenji? Archas?
No.
None of them deserved anything different. Pets of a vampire. Dead, they were better off. Much better.
Swallowing hard, he turned his attention back to the gate. To everything standing between him and freedom. His gaze shifted first left, then right. There was a guard post at the gate, a sort of oversized gatehouse where dim light flickered, the ceilings and doors large, larger than for an ordinary person. A gargoyle guard post. But he couldn't spot a stone bastard anywhere. They were hard to miss, with their marbled skin and glowing eyes.
And as far as he could tell, there were no shifters nearby either. Where were they? Shouldn't there be patrols swarming around here?
Or had they also hidden from the wrath of the castle mistress?
Did no one fear that one of the slaves would escape?
Would any slave even attempt to flee?
Orion thought back to his conversation with Virion.
'And what if we flee? What then?'
That must be the reason. No one fled. Because it would be illogical. Because there was nowhere for them to go back to. Because they didn't want to fight. That applied to the others. Not to Orion. Orion was not like them. Would never be like them.
He took a deep breath, pushing away every thought, everything else that wasn't related to the task before his eyes. To the escape. He had to hurry. Who knew when she would find out about his disappearance.
He doubted he stood a chance against her in his current state. She had dispatched another vampire without hesitation. In itself, it wasn't terrifying; the vampires of the high families possessed a power even the rebels found hard to gauge, but the abrupt demonstration of strength echoed in his mind.
Lin couldn't stay here. Not with this creature.
Not under any circumstances.
Orion hissed through clenched teeth and ducked, the thorns of the bush digging into the thin shirt he wore. He still held the knife in his right hand, the tight grip causing the joint to throb slightly. He ignored it. Soon, the painkillers would wear off, and then he had to be very far away. Because once the cold burning sensation returned, he couldn't hope to defend himself.
Or to run.
But he would think about that when the time came. First, he had to disappear.
Just as he was calming his heart, checking one last time that the coast was clear on both sides, something sounded behind him.
Footsteps. Then something else. A growl. A deep, rolling sound. The air in his lungs seized up, his neck hairs stood on end, he felt as if the earth beneath his bare soles trembled and swayed.
It came so suddenly that he wasted precious seconds glancing back. The sight made his blood freeze in his veins.
A creature was making its way. A huge, furry creature emitting deep, hollow noises. It had its attention focused on the ground, at the spot of the path where Orion had hurried over in a careless moment, from one side to the other.
A shifter. A huge, furry one.
A bear.
By the sun. If it reaches me, I'm dead.
He was still about a hundred feet away, with two other figures standing beside him, their voices echoing far into the silent night. Slowly but surely, they were approaching, the dimmed lamps dressing them in additional shadows.
He swallowed.
Braced himself.
Now or never.
Now or never...
NOW!
In a single motion, he whirled around and burst out of the bushes. Immediately, he heard a roar. Heard shouts. He ignored both, ignored how the foliage tore at his clothing, his hair, how pieces of flora even got stuck in his beard, and charged forward, in the same momentum, crouched. Recklessly.
Instantly, his pulse surged, his breath rushed, the bear shifter's fury vibrated through his body, he could feel it to his bones, deep and fiery. And Orion roared back against it, screamed at his body to go faster, because he could feel the pursuer, feel how the earth trembled beneath his feet, how the shifter's power reverberated through every fiber. The violence. The thing would tear him to shreds.
Or drag him back to the vampire.
Now he could only run. Now there was nothing else.
He propelled his legs, more and more, forced his muscles to pump faster. Stones dug into his bare sole, gravel, even more thorns, small drops of blood seeped over his hands, along his ankles, tracing the shirt he wore.
Ignore.
Ignore everything.
Run.
RUN!
Come on, boy! Away from that vampire! You're not a pet, you're not a slave, and you'll prove it! Run! By the sun, run!
His gaze was fixed firmly on the gate. The iron gate. To his right, he heard shouts. Heard more people. More pursuers. But they were farther away. Farther than the bear. He didn't need to think about them.
Instead, he ran.
And felt the shifter behind him.
Like before, in the castle, only even more powerful. Hot breath smelling of flesh hit his neck, his back was overshadowed by the heat of a much larger, much more powerful body. But Orion didn't hesitate. Not for a second. Didn't allow fear to paralyze him, but did what he always did. Fight. Push through. At any cost.
The gate drew nearer. His pursuer drew nearer.
And closer still.
Something lifted, he felt it, felt the weight shift behind him, and he ducked, instinctively, just a few steps from the gate.
A rush of air. Directly above his head. Claws flashed at the edge of his field of vision. A furry paw.
For a moment, Orion dropped to the ground, bewildering his opponent, and pushed off. With feet and hands. Threw himself against the gate. Right between the curved bars.
Immediately, iron clashed against him, bars dug into him, squeezed him between them, threatening to crush his ribcage. A sharp edge cut along his left arm, leaving a deep, gaping, bloody gash.
He ignored it. Ignored everything. And forced his body onward. Dragged himself through the bars. Ignored how they dug into his ribs, how his shoulders were squeezed until he felt like his bones would burst, and pushed on. Onward.
Until the grip of the iron released him. Suddenly, he stumbled out into the open. Pain reverberated everywhere. But he was alive. Breathing heavily. Panting. Sweat dripped down his face, burning in the open wounds. But he was alive.
Behind him, the bear collided at full speed with the gate. A loud, grinding crash, the bear roared.
Orion leaped forward and whirled around.
In front of him towered a gigantic, shaggy monster. Over a broad, wet snout were small, black, angrily gleaming buttons, and through the gate, a paw pushed forward. Lashed out. Claws as long as Orion's hand hissed through the air.
The man faced the beast. Swallowed.
As soon as it realized it wouldn't reach him, it opened its mouth and roared at him again, defiantly. At the same time, the other shifters reached his side. One of them turned his head to the gargoyles approaching.
"What are you waiting for? Get him back!" the shifter called out.
Two of the gargoyles spread their wings and launched themselves into the air to cross over the gate.
Immediately, Orion turned and ran on.
Before him stretched a wide, paved path, flanked on the left and right by a forest. Pure, black, twisted forest, very different from the wonders he had admired not long ago in the conservatory. Between the forest and the wall around the castle was perhaps sixty feet of open field. There, he couldn't hope to escape the gargoyles, nor on the road. So he ran towards the forest.
Straight ahead.
Behind him, the beating of huge sails sounded, the up and down of wings, accompanied by a grinding like millstones. Voices rose. Calling him back. He ignored them. Ignored everything. Devoted all his concentration to the line of trees, a front of gruesome, false plants that overran this world, and yet they were the only protection he could hope for. The only cover. Everything that could save him.
Close again, so close. Orion was fit, trained, even in his condition, and he was used to pushing his body further when everyone else collapsed. His task was to always push himself further. To be the first one in training in the morning, the last one to sleep. He took on the most unpleasant watches, the toughest tasks. Because that's what a leader did.
Therefore, this was nothing. Absolutely nothing. No matter how much his body screamed, he kept going. Kept running. Always onward. Didn't allow his own weakness to overwhelm him. Nor did he look back to see how close the gargoyles were.
Just run.
His feet reached the first outskirts of the forest, and without hesitation, he threw himself in, between the gnarled trees, ducking under low-hanging, leafless branches. Around him, underbrush crackled, dry wood creaked. Orion continued to forge ahead, pushing deeper, blindly feeling his way. After only a few steps, the path ahead of him turned black. Absolute blackness.
But he had to keep going. Had to get away. From his pursuers--
He hesitated. Behind him, there was no further crackling, no crunching of stone claws making their way into the forest.
Confused, he turned his head and looked back. Back to the castle, which appeared like an oasis of brightness and safety among the branches.
Absurd.
There stood the gargoyles, between the gate and the treeline. Their glowing eyes locked onto his. Glinting at him. Yet they remained still. They seemed to make no move to venture further.
Was the forest holding them back? Or did the territory of the vampire end there?
Whatever it was, Orion breathed a sigh of relief as he turned his back on the beasts and continued to forge ahead.
Done. He had escaped. Gone. Now he just needed to put distance between himself and this place. Then he would be free.
Free.
Finally.
It shouldn't be that easy.