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Mark pulled his old truck off the road just in front of the twisted remains of the car door. It lay across the double yellow lines of the road, that one twisted piece of metal telling him all he needed to know. The binding spell had broken.

He had known the moment it happened, his own senses, dull for the last seventy two years, were now as sharp as they had ever been. He could hear more, feel more, but most importantly, his strength was back. All of it.

The binding spell he was forced to place on his brother all those years ago had bound a large part of the abilities he had come to rely on since the beginning of the exile. True, he had done alright for himself since then, but the second the binding broke, he felt everything return in a flood of strength and sensations. He picked up the car door with one hand, the metal buckled and twisted easily in his grip. With one effortless swing of his arm, he sent it skipping across the pond like a stone, hearing it clang against a tree on the other side before bouncing back into the pond with a large splash. He smiled to himself as he took a cigar out of his pocket and lit it.

Suddenly, he heard what he had come here for. The small sound of air bubbles breaking the surface of the pond made him smile. He inhaled on the cigar as he waited, the red ash lit his face with a dull red glow with every breath. He watched as the bubbles braking the surface of the water came closer to the shore, the pupils of his eyes glowing yellow with anticipation.

Finally, a head broke the surface of the water, and in the darkness Alex walked out of the pond as easily as if he was walking up a small hill. From the center of his eyes, a white light pulsed, and in his hand he carried the lever gun Mark had given him as a graduation present. Mark took another puff of his cigar as Alex approached, seemingly oblivious to the cold water pouring off his clothes.

“What happened to me” he asked.

Mark smiled at the question, Alex didn’t remember everything, and if things went right, he never would. He had to be careful though, if the memories came back, things would not go well.

“A spell brother, you were caught in a spell. It’s taken me a long time but I’ve finally found you. You’re going to need my help.”  

Alex closed his eyes, the white light momentarily cut off.

“I can feel her, she’s returned,” he opened his eyes and looked up at Mark, the white light more intense than ever, “where is she?” 

Mark looked down at him, the yellow light in his own eyes suddenly matching the intensity of the white light in Alex’s.

“Vampires have her. They took her to get to us, to trap you.”

The light in Alex’s eyes grew to a blinding intensity, lighting both Mark and the road in front of Alex up like two flashlights. He gripped the gun hard in his hand, a white light started to glow from the barrel. Then, with an enraged yell he turned and swung his other fist at a large tree, the impact shattering the wood like a stick of dynamite and sending shards flying. With a series of cracks and a loud splash, the tree hit the water and sunk, Mark looked at the shattered remains of the tree, smiling broadly before turning back to Alex.

When Alex looked back at Mark, two enormous wings had appeared on his back, seemingly out of thin air. Alex stretched them out, filling the road, every feather glowing with its own light. When Alex spoke next, Mark couldn’t see his face. All he could see were the lights glowing in his eyes and wings, everything else a sea of darkness.

“Then I will kill them all.” 

The Last of the Twenty: The Setting of the BoardWhere stories live. Discover now