I knew what I had to do, what Storm wanted me to do. I gripped my blade tighter and continued sprinting towards the scene. My mother lay at the step to the cottage, blood pooling from her neck; My father was brandishing a broom at the pair of vampires.
“Sir!” I called, hopping the gate. “Stop this madness, get out of the way!”
My father looked at me with a look of shock, but dropped the broom and went to my mothers side. The vampires looked to me also, angry that I would interfere with their meal. I stood and gestured for them to come closer. They shambled awkwardly towards me – it was as if they hadn’t fed for weeks... the one on the left snarled and lunged at me, but I had anticipated it and dodged out of the way. They snarled and lunged together this time; I slashed and cut one of them diagonally across his chest – the other stopped in his tracks, visibly confused.
“You made a mistake, hurting these people.” I sneered.
The pair just stood staring at me, and then they were gone. My parents were gone. The cottage, the snow, everything gone. I was back in the corridor, faced with two doors. Storm clapped me on the back.
“Well done. I had expected that to be the worst of the rooms for you to deal with, but you passed excellently.” He mocked.
“I thought these were my worst fears?” I said simply. “These are nothing but petty games.”
I sheathed my blade and stepped into another of the rooms. The door closed behind me, and the scene changed just as it had the last time. This time I was in... Stanley's kitchen? I peered out of the window, the outhouse where he had told me. Something felt different though. I made my way into the hallway and saw that the paintings from before had been replaced, with childrens drawings. I couldn’t be in their house, could I? Perhaps Storm hadn’t crafted it properly?
“Upstairs. You will find proof upstairs.” echoed Storms voice.
I ran up them, three at a time, and kicked open the first door on the left – this was the guest room that I was supposed to be staying in. The sight that greeted me was horrific; two boys had been mutilated and left on their beds, the bedding a dark crimson. I doubled over and vomited.
“What is this!” I called. “What on earth is this?!”
“This.” came Storms voice once more. “This is what happens if you win.”
“What do you mean?” I screamed.
“Like I said.” He laughed. “Some people dislike those who associate with werewolves.”
I stood and backed out of the room, pulling the door closed behind me. Slowly, I made my way to the next door along. I closed my eyes and threw it open. There was nothing out of the ordinary; aside from an upturned pot of paint brushes, it was the study where Lydia did her paintings. I turned and made for the next door. Inside I could a man laughing. Silently, I drew my sword again, and pushed the door open slowly. The source of the cackling came from a man garbed in rags, jumping up and down with his fists raised. He was completely oblivious to me. I followed his gaze to the bed and dropped my sword and fell to my knees. There, locked in a lovers embrace, was myself; or a copy of myself, and Lydia. I saw why the man was laughing – the pair were skewered together in three different places; he had used gilded spears. At once I knew who the man was. Gareth.
“Enough!” Came a booming voice.
The scene faded to black and I was back in the lounge, still on my knees with my sword on the floor at my side. There, in front of me; was David, clad in a red and black embroidered jacket. He held Storm by the throat several feet above the floor.
“You disobeyed me again Storm.” He spat.
“N-n-no!” Storm uttered, struggling to breath. “I was testing him!”
“He needed no testing. You were supposed to have brought him to me with Ashley! But no, you decided to follow your own agenda, and now because of you we have lost another of our flock.”
“Ashley was nothing compared to what Corven could be!” He cried frantically. “You said that yourself, of us all!”
“That, is irrelevant.” David said, tightening his grip. “Your own motivations have cost you.”
“No!” I cried, jumping to my feet and charging towards David, intending on tackling him to the floor.
“Silly human.” He sighed, and swatted me away with his free hand. “This does not concern you!”
I crashed into the bar and fell to my hands and knees, winded. I looked back to the pair to see David close his fist around Storms neck, the sound of vertebrae splintering beneath his fingers sickeningly loud in the now silent room. He dropped Storm to the floor and readjusted his jacket, before turning to me.
“Allow me to introduce myself.” He said. “My name is-”
“I know who you are!” I spat.
“Yes... quite.” He shot back. “But do you know why you are here? This goes far beyond anything you can possibly imagine.”
“I’m here, to end you.” I said quietly, looking at the floor. “I’m here, to save Lydia.”
“Foolish child.” He laughed. “You know nothing. You are far too weak to face me, and you are too late to save the girl.”
“You lie!” I screamed, scrambling to my feet. “YOU LIE!”
David laughed again, and kicked my sword across to me.
“But do I?” He smiled. “Come, if you think you are strong enough, you might soon find out.”
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