Page 34 of Red Queen

“Off the horses!” I dismount with practiced ease.

My animal whinnies, its breath frosting the air as steel meets my grip. My sword is an extension of my will, a conduit for the rage boiling in my blood.

Ivan, Henry, Nicolai, and Marianne follow suit, their weapons gleaming in the bright sunlight as we stand shoulder to shoulder.

“Come then, you bastards!” Henry yells, rushing forward to battle with the first wave of assailants.

“Die!” Marianne’s blade sings a malevolent tune as it arcs through the frigid air.

“Face us, if you dare, you assholes!” Nicolai says, his sword a blur of death.

Blood sprays across the snow, spattering grotesque patterns in red. The toll of metal echoes through the air, accompanied by the guttural noises of vampires engaged in battle.

Catarina’s forces lunge at us with supernatural speed and strength, their fangs bared and eyes glinting with hunger. We meet their onslaught with unwavering resolve, our movements fluid and precise as we fight back against the relentless rush of foes.

Ivan’s sword cleaves through vampire flesh with a sickening squelch. His movements are swift, his strikes calculated andmerciless. I behead a vampire who’s coming up behind him and his slight nod’s his only acknowledgement.

I swathe a path as Henry swings his axe in wide arcs, each blow delivered with bone-crushing force. He moves like a whirlwind of destruction, his battle cries mingling with the clank of steel.

I look to see who needs me. Nicolai battles the undead with controlled aggression, his blade moving viper-fast as he takes down his enemies. His movements are careful yet deadly, each strike finding its mark.

Marianne moves like a shadow on the battlefield, her rapier darting in and out of eyes, chests, ears. Her strikes are vicious and precise, each thrust aiming at vital spots on her opponents’ bodies.

I dive into the center, taking down as many as I can with lethal blows.

The snow around us turns vermilion with spilled blood, the metallic scent heavy in the air. The sounds of battle fill my ears—steel meeting steel, cries of pain and fury filling the air in a din of violence.

We fight side by side, falling into our new battle pattern, and a sense of camaraderie builds between us despite the pandemonium. Our movements synchronize as if guided by an unseen force, each of us playing our part in this brutal combat.

Catarina’s vampires press on relentlessly, their numbers seemingly endless.

“Your blood will freeze before it spills,” I taunt an advancing vampire enemy with a low growl.

“General Amanar, watch out!” Ivan’s warning comes just in time as a rogue vampire lunges at me from my left.

I spin, bringing my sword down in a sweeping motion that spears through flesh and bone. The creature’s head falls, body crumpling into the blood-discolored snow.

“Fall, you fiends!” The battle fury courses through me like an unstoppable force.

We are death incarnate, the harbingers of Catarina’s downfall. And though the day may be long and full of unforeseeable dangers, we will emerge victorious or not at all.

I intend to be victorious.

I parry a strike, countering with a vicious thrust that spills my opponent’s intestines onto the bloodied ground.

“For the realms and our very existence!” Henry’s voice is filled with rage and determination as he slices another enemy in two.

The battle ebbs and flows like a river of blood and teeth, our enemy’s line faltering at our onslaught. Shades of red and black adorn the world around us—blood drips from our swords’ edges, staining our fingers and armor as we wade through the carnage. The air is thick with the acrid scent of death and blood acrid scent of burnt flesh, and a horrific symphony of snarls, cries, and the faint crunching of bones underfoot swirl in the air around me.

My blade flashes through the air, striking down foe after foe with calculated accuracy. I can almost feel the life force leaving their bodies as I plunge into their vulnerable hearts. Their blood splatters, coating the ground around us in a macabre tableau of destruction.

The fight rages on, and we move as one. The harsh song of battle resounds as edges clash, each fighter attuned to its grim rhythm. Though my soldiers are few, we are an insurmountable wall of steel and muscle that won’t be deterred in our quest to eradicate every last one of Catarina’s minions.

My gaze locks onto one of the enemies before me—a grotesque creature with emaciated features and glowing red eyes. Its ragged breaths echo through the howling winter winds as it lunges at me, teeth bared in a snarl.

Without hesitation, I lift my sword high above my head and bring it down in a ferocious arc, severing the vampire’s head from its neck.

A thrill courses through me as I feel the life drain from the creature, its essence seeping into my own. This is what it means to be a vampire, to wield power over life and death.

---