《Blood Princess》Chapter Twenty Four: The Red String of Fate

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Judith turns her head to the side as a middle-aged woman in a pinstriped suit appears at the other end of the corridor. With a gas mask over her face, she spots the girl and quickly rushes to her side.

“You must be Judith,” she says, through the mask. “Are you alright?”

Judith nods weakly. With all the action now over, a great weariness overcomes her.

“What happened?”

The woman looks around at the cracks and craters in the walls, the bloodstains, the debris. “Where are Bran and Alice?”

She must be one of Bran’s allies. The air of authority she gives off certainly gives that impression.

“The chapel,” Judith says. Her voice comes out as a bare whisper.

The woman’s face behind the mask is a complete mystery, but she appears to understand.

“The medics will be here soon, they’re just taking care of everything downstairs. We’ll get you some water as soon as possible. Hang on until then.”

She moves aside and says something into a microphone by her collar – probably directing people towards the church. Judith licks her lips, already anticipating the cool, refreshing taste of water. After crying her eyes out, it’s no wonder she’s dehydrated.

Of course, she would prefer a glass of blood – but she doesn’t think revealing that here would be a wise move.

“Here, take this.”

The woman has finished speaking and strips off her suit. Judith accepts it and wraps it around her, even though she doesn’t feel the cold at all. The faint smell of tobacco reaches her nostrils as her thoughts return to her brother.

***

“The soul is a living, breathing thing. Although it doesn’t speak or communicate, it responds to our actions, and changes its appearance to reflect changes in our psyche. Willpower, determination, danger… these things can make a Divine Edge stronger, as well as weaker.”

Hector’s eyes pass among the small class of students, stopping on my own. I look away quickly.

“The most important thing is not to give up. Those with weak wills also have weak souls. The second most important thing is to fight for a purpose. Whether it be protecting someone dear to you, a sense of self-satisfaction or… revenge –“

I subconsciously clench my fists.

“- the stronger this emotion is, the more it will be reflected in your soul. They are dynamic things, that change as you do. Just remember that.”

What does this old geezer know? I just want to hurry up and get to the killing part. I already know my purpose in life –

To kill demons.

***

There’s something different about Nightfall today. It feels a bit lighter, glows a bit brighter, and there are silver streaks glowing along its edge. Whereas before it was a reflection of the pitch black night, now there are stars and a moon in the sky.

This thought passes by in an instant, and I dismiss it. I have only one focus now – to protect Alice. Nothing else matters.

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The single step I take erases the several metres between us. Dracula visibly recoils, realizing he’s too late to stop me. His spear, the Impaler lunges for me, but it’s too late.

In a flash of black and silver, I cleave through the armour and into his side. Blood spurts from the wound, splattering the stone wall as the demon desperately tries to recover his footing.

There’s already a clear difference from our earlier fight. Dracula can’t afford to stay still and let his Divine Edge act for him – he has to actually move to stand a chance.

“Just one scratch,” he growls. “One scratch and it’s over.”

“I won’t let you,” I respond.

This time, Dracula surges forward. The spear is thrust like a red bolt of lightning. I slide past it, feeling its wind whip past my face. There’s a shudder behind me as one of the pillars collapses, sending dust and debris raining down from the roof.

Nightfall sings as it approaches Dracula’s exposed body. Sensing the impending blow, he flails backwards and twists away, sweeping his spear across the hall. I somersault into the air to avoid it, but a chunk of rock slams into the side of my head.

In the brief moment my airborne body is incapacitated, Dracula springs to his feet and repositions himself. The Impaler snaps back and pounces upwards like a viper, lunging for my chest.

Not yet.

I spin around, redirecting the thrust with Nightfall’s pommel. Silver and black streaks fly from the point of contact, fizzling into the air. The edge of my shirt rips, but no blood is drawn.

I can go faster.

Having lost nearly half of the supporting pillars, the entire chamber is beginning to shake. I have to end this quickly, or I’ll burn out.

“That’s some impressive speed,” the vampire pants. “But for how long can you keep it up?”

Dracula knows that my boost won’t last forever.

“Long enough to kill you.”

As I say this, I dash forward with all my strength. Dracula whirls his spear around, smashing the crumbled foundation of a pillar towards me. I turn in midair, slashing it away, slowing myself in the process. There’s a glint of red, and the serpentine Impaler suddenly appears right in my vision.

I can see it.

I know where it’s aimed for. I can estimate its speed. My mind makes the calculations, and I thrust my hand forward. It grips the shaft tightly, preventing the deadly tip from penetrating my skin.

“You…!” the Blood Lord hisses.

Hanging on for dear life, I can only grit my teeth as the living spear hurls me through the roof like a cannonball. Stone and rubble rain down from the sky as I fly out of the undercroft and into the middle of the aisle above, landing in a painful heap.

Pain.

I have to defeat him. There’s no time.

Hurry.

Dracula flies out of the hole in the ground, his spear in his hands. I throw myself sideways to avoid its strike, painfully cracking a seat in half with my shin.

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“Not long now,” my enemy seethes. I can see the frustration in his face – he’s desperate for my body to reach its limit, and I’m desperate to kill him before then. At this moment in time, there’s no difference between us. We’re simply two bloodthirsty demons struggling to kill each other.

The ground beneath me cracks as the supporting pillars underneath give way. I quickly leap upwards to avoid falling back into the undercroft. The spear closes in on me as if in slow motion, reaching towards my chest. It twists and shakes in the air, its path of movement erratic and unpredictable.

Watch it. Look for the path to victory.

Dracula’s injured side has already recovered. My heart is beating wildly, and my lungs are on fire. A force pulls at my stomach as I continue to fly through the air.

Can’t… keep this up… for much longer...

I rebound off the wall, the impact of my feet shattering all the glass panels on that side. Dracula’s eyes follow me, his spear but a heartbeat behind.

The black mist spewing from Nightfall’s blade diminishes for a moment. I can tell it’s reaching its limit too.

Don’t think.

I jump. The spear flies towards me.

Parry.

Raining sparks of silver and red fall from the sky.

Floundering.

I hit the ground hard. Instinct guides me and lifts my head.

Red.

The spear chases me, not allowing a single moment’s reprieve.

Damnit.

I’m tired.

But I have to save Alice.

If it weren’t for that one thought in my mind, it would have been over long ago.

The strength of one’s soul is only as strong as their will.

I have to protect her.

I clumsily weave away from the point of the spear, but its side catches me squarely in the chest. Like a giant red tentacle, it tosses me into the ceiling with frightening force.

I can’t reach him.

Dracula stands on the ground, a look of rage and grim determination plastered on his face.

Alone, I’m faster. But if the speed of his Divine Edge is combined with the speed of his body, an unsurpassable wall is erected.

The despair in my eyes becomes triumph in his.

No. I can’t…

The middle of the church roof explodes as my body breaks through and flies into the night sky.

My vision…

All the colour seems to disappear from the world.

This is it. I’m nearing the end of the Soul Link.

No…

The church below me, the grassy hill, the full moon – all of it fades away to monochrome.

It’s only a matter of seconds before my eyesight completely disappears – and my body shuts down in fatigue.

I’m going to die.

In this moment of realization, the world seems to freeze. I feel the calm rays of the moon shining through my torn shirt and onto my skin. I see the hole in the church roof, the collapsed floor, the half-buried undercroft. I see the glint of Dracula’s crimson armour, the deadly spearhead of the Impaler as it races through the path of my flight in an attempt to skewer me.

In that moment of black and white, the only colour I see is a single red path. As my brain begins to shut down, instinct overrides all reason, bypasses all thought, hijacks all senses.

It was there all along – the answer. The solution.

The path to victory, outlined in red.

As gravity begins to tug me down, I flail around the blood-red tip and grab the pole with one hand. As if it were a sentient being, the Impaler switches tactics to try to throw me off – but I force myself forward, and land one foot on the spear.

-The red string-

Building up momentum, I race down the length of the spear. It twists and lurches, doubling back on itself in order to throw me off.

I’m faster.

Last burst of speed. No time to question.

-Of fate-

Left foot, right foot. Like a wild beast, my path struggles beneath me.

Almost there.

Hurtling forward with all the momentum I can muster, along the narrow red pole as if my shoes were magnetically attracted to it.

-Will lead me-

Dracula’s look of complete surprise as I pursue the spear back to its owner.

His aura flares red in the world of black and white. In the obscure corners of my darkening mind, I recall the power of his Soul Link.

The tip of the spear behind me, looping back to defend its owner fades into a phantom colour. It longs to seal away my soul.

But it’s far too late.

-to Alice.-

Nightfall cuts straight through a gap in his armour, sinking effortlessly into the area between the shoulder and chest. The transparent Impaler shivers once in the air before flopping down lifelessly as if all the energy has left it. Both Dracula and I collapse onto the ground, completely spent.

“You… bastard…,” he coughs, his breathing laboured.

My vision has closed in around me. All I can see is the wounded vampire lying in front of me, too injured to move.

One more blow.

I can’t stop now, or he’ll recover.

One foot up. The second refuses to move.

I lean on Nightfall and prop myself on one knee.

Finish the job.

Kill him.

Follow the red string of fate to the very end.

I raise Nightfall.

This monster deserves no mercy.

Without hesitation, I bring it down and sever Vladimir Dracula’s head from his body. The moment Nightfall touches the ruined floor of the church, all the strength leaves my body and my eyesight becomes black.

The last things I hear are sirens wailing in the distance.

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