Valkyria (14 page)

“
By the way,” said Serge.
“I saw the way you were looking at Anastasia in the mess hall
yesterday.”

Nate felt his body twitch, and a flush
of guilt flew through him.

“
I was not looking at
her!”

“
Come on, I know a look of
pining when I see it.”

“
I do not know what you are
talking about,” said Nate, his voice shaking as he
spoke.

“
Look kid,” Serge replied.
“She’s the most cold hearted lady I have ever met. But don’t just
sit there and stare. Either you’ll look like some sort of creep, or
you’ll just end up regretting it when someone else finally comes
along and warms her icy heart.”

“
It’s not that simple!
She’s the Captain’s sister!”

“
And she’s also a human!
All humans need some kind of bond, even one like her.”

“
And how exactly is one
supposed to warm her heart? Answer me that,” said Nate.

“
That’s just something you
have to figure out on your own, kid. Just don’t let the chance slip
by because you’re just sitting there watching.”

“
Well, thank you for that
sound and useful advice,” said Nate as he looked over at the
automaton. “Can you get that thing to hold one of the sheets right
here so I can get started on these modifications? I want to get
them finished before Charles sees the Seadawn.”

Serge nodded and gave the signal to the
automaton. Nate slid a pair of engineer’s goggles over his eyes and
lit up the welding iron, but even as he began to working on the
Seadawn again, he could not get the image of Anastasia out of his
head.

*~*~*

22

SERAN

The manor was silent. All of the oil
lanterns were out, the only light coming through the windows. Seran
stood in the main hallway; a large square room with a staircase in
the middle. The staircase split into two separate staircases
halfway up, each one going in opposite directions, connecting to a
balcony landing that went all the way around the outside of the
room.

The floor was marble, with a straight
red velvet carpet leading from the entrance to the stairs, and all
the way up to the landing. Ornately carved stone gargoyles were
littered around the room, some on their sides and others in pieces
on the floor. Scratch marks and blood stains were
everywhere.

On the ground floor, there were seven
doors leading out from the main hall. One was open; the basement
door. Seran let out a quiet chuckle at the irony and proceed
through the door and down the stone steps.

In the basement there was even less
light. The room itself was the same size as the main hallway above,
but there were only five windows, and they were more of slits in
the wall than full size windows. The basement was filled to the
brim with bits and pieces of steam-cars, statues, paintings and
various other items.

Two bodies were strewn across the junk,
long dead and long since feasted upon. In the darkness, Seran could
not determine who they were, but he knew they were not Lord
Eerhart. The mechanic had told him that Eerhart had been pompous
and plump. These two bodies were very thin, so it was likely that
they were his servants. Seran reached down to the remains of one of
the bodies and, in its pocket, for a ring of keys. As quietly as he
could, he took the keys and placed them in his own pocket before
turning around and walking back up to the main hall.

When he returned to the hall, he
noticed something he had not seen before; a trail of blood drops
led up the stairs. He followed it, carefully stepping on each of
the stairs, trying to keep the creaking to a minimum. Half way up,
the blood trail turned right and continued up to the
landing.

Seran looked up to see another body
dangling over the banister. Not him. He shook his head and
continued to follow the blood trail. He had to unlock one of the
wooden doors, slowly turning the key so that the click did not echo
through the house. The last thing he wanted to do was alert any
Creatures that might still be in the house that he was
there.

The corridor behind the door, as with
the main hallway, was lavishly decorated with marble flooring,
velvet carpeting and wooden paneling on the walls. Paintings of
landscapes were dotted around.

The blood drop trail led further into
the corridor and turned left into one of the rooms. The handle was
stained red. He placed his hand on it; the blood was still wet and
warm. Seran opened the door, finding himself in a study. The walls
were filled with books, the room illuminated by a large window on
the far side. A desk and chair had been placed in front of it,
whilst other chairs lay around the floor.

The blood drips led to the right hand
corner, where a man who had obviously been well fed lay face down.
He was not breathing, but he was Lord Eerhart. In his hand was a
pen, and a piece of paper lay beside him. Seran knelt down and
picked up the note.

Whoever finds this, please tell my
Queen that I did not fail in my task. I have found their secret.
They are building something on the Midland Island.

Seran nodded his head and rolled the
piece of paper up before placing it in his pocket.

“
Lord Eerhart, I am afraid
I cannot tell our Queen yet, but I can tell you I shall look into
this secret.”

He turned around and walked toward the
door, but as he moved his arm caught the chair by the desk. It fell
over, smashing into the wooden floor. The noise echoed through the
manor.

“
Shit,” said Seran as he
instantly stood still. The silence of the manor was broken, and now
a clicking sound filled the corridors. It was the hunting sound of
the Creatures; the noise they made when they had not found their
prey yet. As long as the clicking continued, and did not turn into
howling or screaming, Seran was safe.

However, he could not tell which
direction the clicking originated from. It was as if it was coming
out of the walls, and sooner or late it was going to be coming
through the door to the study. Seran knew that much.

He ran over to the door, and closed it
as fast as he could, and then moved the desk across the room to the
door. The barricade would not hold for long against a pack of
Creatures, but it would give him a few seconds to formulate a
plan.

Seran ran over to the window and saw a
bunch of bushes below. They were thick, and appeared strong enough
to support his landing. However, they were in the central garden,
and he would still have to get through the manor to the main hall
in order to escape. He needed a distraction of some
kind.

Across the garden, through the windows
of another wing of the manor, he saw movement. There were Creatures
moving through the corridors; dozens of them.

Their once human flesh was peeling as
they searched the manor, their rotting, mutated bodies moving
faster than any human should be able to. He could even see the
burns on their skin from the Fire that burnt the Old
World.

The Creatures were all that were left
of the people who had not taken shelter during the Fire, or those
that had encountered the Creatures and lived. There was a saying
that everyone was taught in school when learning of these
monstrosities; they kill you or they take you.

Seran had always felt a sort of pitty
for the Creatures. They were mutated by the actions of others in
the Old World, and were now destined to live their extended lives
hunting down flesh in packs.

But they were not going to feast on
Seran’s flesh. Above him, hanging on the wall, was a lantern. It
was still full of fuel. He threw it on the floor, the oil spilling
across the wooden floor. There were six other lanterns in the room,
so he did the same with them. The floor, now soaked in oil, was
ready. He drew a dagger in one hand, and held Firethorn in the
other. The spark needs to be small. I do not want it to burn before
I get out of here.

He struck the two blades together,
creating a spark that hit the oil on the floor, setting it alight.
The flames spread through the oil, growing quickly. Seran then ran
over to the shelves of books, using all of his strength to push
them over. The flames were quick to swallow the books, the paper
burning in seconds. The fire then spread across the shelves,
reaching the wooden walls and the rugs on the floor, before finally
reaching the desk.

As the desk ignited, so did the door
behind it, the flames spreading to the velvet carpet outside. Soon
enough it would spread throughout the manor. The clicking stopped,
seconds later being replaced with wailing and howling. Seran knew
that meant the fire had spread well; the Creatures were agitated
and spooked. They wanted their food.

He span around and ran over to the
window, smash it with the blade of Firethorn. He sheathed his
dagger once again and launched himself through the window, falling
down into the bushes. The branches cut through his hands and face,
but other than that the landing was soft. From the bushes he could
see the fire making its way around the different wings of the
manor. It was working. The Creatures were running around in a
frenzy.

Seran rose to his feet, Firethorn in
his hand. He started the motor so that the teeth around the blade
began to spin. The noise of the chain-sword was loud, but that
would not matter now. The Creatures were everywhere. He could see
that from the windows.

He dived through the window behind him
and found himself in the dining hall. As he rose to his feet, he
heard a scream from the left and saw a Creature charge toward him.
Its speed was immense, flakes of its skin falling off as it ran
toward him. Seran moved to the side at the last minute and span
around, driving Firethorn through the Creature’s neck. Its body
fell to the floor, whilst its head continued forward for a couple
seconds first.

Behind him, one of the two doors of the
massive room burst open, and four more Creatures entered. One of
them looked as though they had been an attractive young woman when
they were changes into a monster. It was a pitty.

Seran ran across the room toward the
other door, the Creatures hurtling toward him. He knew he would not
have time to try and unlock the door, and bashing into it might end
up with him on the floor in front of them. Instead, he raised
Firethorn above his head and drove it into the door, the teeth
sawing through the wood until it fell apart, giving Seran an exit.
However, he heard one of the Creature launch itself from the
ground. He ducked and span around to face the monster, lifting
Firethorn above his head once again.

The Creature flew face first into the
chain-sword’s blade and teeth, knocking Seran backwards with its
weight. He rolled further backwards so that he found his feet
again, and tore Firethorn from the monster’s head. As he rose and
readied himself from the next pounce, he saw the support beams of
the dining hall’s ceiling burn away.

He dived through the doorway as the
ceiling collapse, crushing the two Creatures that were running
toward him. Shaking his head to get his bearings, he realized he
was back in the main hall. He leapt to his feet and ran as fast as
he could to the front door, howling echoing through the burning
manor and right into his ears.

Outside, the courtyard was clear. The
Creatures had obviously been sleeping within the manor. Smoke rose
from every wing of the house, filling the sky with a dark cloud.
Seran looked around the courtyard and saw a steam-car.

He ran over to it and started cranking
the handle of the engine. The howling was getting closer, the fire
doing little to stop the sheer hunger that drove the Creatures.
Finally the steam-car’s engine sputtered into life. Seran jumped
into the cabin and pushed down the accelerator. At that same
moment, almost a hundred Creatures launched themselves through the
windows and main entrance of the manor.

The steam-car shot forward, Seran
quickly turning the steering wheel and driving the car out of the
courtyard. He wrenched the wheel to the right, turning off the dirt
track and into the woods, heading south toward the city of Argent;
the only port on the Esterland island.

In the mirror he could see the
Creatures pilling over each other as they ran after him like a
tsunami. But he was making distance between himself and the
monsters. He was going to get away safely.

*~*~*

23

HAZE

The sound of dripping water had been
all Haze could hear for hours. Einar was still unconscious on the
cold stone floor, is head resting on the steel bars of the prison
cell.

The smell of rotten food and rotten
bodies filled the air, the small barred window offering now release
from the odor.

“
Mother…”

The image of her mother screaming had
been repeating in her head since she had woken up. She was not
crying anymore, but that was likely due to having no tears left to
cry. Instead, she felt as if there was an emptiness in her chest
that was slowly being filled with hatred for the
Inquisition.

“
What do they want with me?
Why would they kill everyone just to get to me?”