Blood Rebel [COMPLETED]

Chapter Twenty Two - Chaos

Selene looked over at Hector, who was staring at his brother. His face was so pale it looked grey, and the shadows under his eyes and beneath his cheekbones looked like hollows in his skin.

“Six million.” Arthur Stanley raised his hand and waved it in Hector’s direction: an acknowledgement and a dismissal all in one. A gesture that said he didn’t care at all whether or not it was returned. In fact, it was as though Hector was nothing to him. He looked only at Selene and Marianne.

“Seven.” Hector raised a clenched fist as he barked the number.

“Boys, boys, calm down.” Marianne smiled and stepped towards them. “I know just how to settle this. In the name of the Grand Chamber, I will pay fifty million Venariis to taste Selene’s blood myself.” She bowed and the audience began to applaud. Fifty million was too high; Hector couldn’t match it in cash.

Selene watched him; his features twisted as though each had its own personal torturer. She saw the panic in his eyes and knew that if Marianne tasted her they would probably only have minutes to live. She would know something wasn’t right: she would know Selene’s blood wasn’t normal.

Selene looked round to where the Bleeders stood, poised, ready to draw the blood of the prisoners. Their fangs were bared and, because the spotlight was on her and Marianne, their bodies looked as insubstantial as shadows, concealed in the darkness.

Selene’s hands flickered over her face and body, and rose into her hair where they flittered about like insects looking for pollen. Some of the glittering stars fell out and dropped to the floor. Richard Mason had crept onto the stage and was circling her, taking photo after photo, but she was too shocked to pay any attention.

She wondered whether she should run; she had about a second to make up her mind. Marianne was moving towards her and the applause was intensifying. Some of the audience had begun to chant and scream, and the hysteria was building. Even if Marianne had wanted to change her mind she couldn’t have: the power of the crowd would have been against her. They wanted Selene’s blood, and they wanted it now.

Her white dress sparkled under the lights, and Marianne’s silver one matched it in shimmering beauty. Soon both would be stained, seeped in blood. Selene swung round and began to run, but Marianne caught her and pulled her back to centre stage.

The crowd roared; the Vampires' bloodlust only encouraged by Selene's thwarted attempt to run. Marianne forced Selene’s head to the side, exposing an expanse of virgin flesh, the beating of her pulse visible through the skin.

Marianne’s mouth began to water, and a drop of saliva fell from her fang to Selene’s neck, who in turn began to scream.

The other girls had stopped where the dance had left them, too afraid to move. This wasn’t supposed to happen: a dancer’s blood was never shed at a Bleeding. This was going to change all the rules.

The audience rose to their feet, the younger more enthusiastic members first, then the rest, and finally the other members of the Grand Chamber.

Selene felt Marianne’s hot hands gripping her from behind, and she was overwhelmed. She collapsed as her legs trembled beneath her, the fabric of her dress crumpling as she fell. But Marianne held her up like a marionette.

Selene raised her eyes, but her vision was blurred. She could just about make out Hector as he stepped off the raised platform and onto the stage. She tried to focus, tried to look him in the eye and let him know she forgave him. If he objected or intervened they would both be killed; and if Marianne tasted Selene’s blood the result would be the same. There was nothing he could do but accept his fate.

She just wanted to see him, to feel his eyes upon her one last time...

A movement on the other side of the stage distracted her. Jackie was on her hands and knees, near the feet of one of the prisoners.

Marianne noticed too, and Selene felt her grip loosen and her head jerk upwards. Just as she realised this was probably her only chance to run, Marianne began to scream. Her hands flew from Selene and clasped her own neck, where blood was running freely.

The lights went out and the hall was plunged into darkness, and then the screaming began.

Selene had fallen to the floor and didn’t immediately understand what had happened. She felt someone hustle her, grabbing her in their arms and raising her to her feet. She was too disorientated to resist, and the movement was so fast that she hadn’t time to think. The body was warm, and she could feel a heartbeat as it pressed up against her.  It was human, and it was male.

 Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the lack of light, but when they did she realised it was Richard Mason, his hands shining with blood that wasn’t his own, his camera still slung over his shoulder. There were red stains all over her white dress from where he had touched her.

“Quick!” He shouted, pulling her closer to him.

Suddenly all the fire fountains around the edges of the hall exploded at once and the contrast was blinding. They were uncontrollable, and the place began to catch fire.  The red velvet curtains that hung around the walls caught first, but the flames moved quickly, thick black smoke billowing around them. The Vampires began to scatter, trampling over one another to get away from the flames.

The room had descended into chaos: the prisoners had been untied and removed their masks. Around their necks they wore sheaths of silver rings, covering and protecting the flesh. They were moving like a team, a highly trained army, and their silver neck braces seemed to have pieces that could be detached and used as weapons.  They were plunging the little silver blades into Vampire after Vampire, immobilizing them, but not killing them.

The dancers screamed, some throwing themselves to the floor, some trying to run. A few Vampires had taken the opportunity to run onto the stage in the moment of darkness, and were feeding in a frenzy on the floor, oblivious to the screams and movement around them. 

Selene noticed one who looked like Hector feeding on Cecily. His mouth was pressed to her neck, and his ecstacy was apparent in every muscle of his body. It couldn’t be him; it had to be his brother. Hector wouldn’t...

The audience was a hive of activity; the wooden seating around the hall had begun to catch fire, and the Vampires who weren’t feeding clambered over one another to get out. 

Only one figure seemed to be going against the tide, moving away from the exits. Hector pushed his way out onto the stage towards her, brutally ripping apart any Vampire or human who stood in his way. 

Selene looked from this new Hector to the other that was feeding on Cecily. She didn’t know which was which, but as she watched neither looked like the man she knew. But then he called out to her, and reached out with one hand, using the other to push a smaller female Vampire out of his way.

“Selene!” His call was so full of pain that her own bubbled up inside, ready to respond.

She stepped towards him, but Jackie ran up between her and Hector and pressed Selene back, pushing her towards Richard Mason.

“Go!” She screamed.

Selene had never thought she would accept an order from Jackie, but she saw the terror in her eyes and didn’t hesitate to obey. She glanced once more at Hector just in time to see one of the prisoners thrust a silver blade into his shoulder, while another pushed one into his leg from behind. He fell on one knee, screaming in agony as the flesh around the silver blades began to fester and burn.

Then she turned, lifting the hem of her dress in one hand, and followed Richard Mason, who seemed to know exactly where he was going.