During which hunts are interrupted...
85
They rushed into the night. The skeletal limbs of the forest reaching out for them. The light of the moon, briefly glimpsed peering out from within the raging storm clouds above, remained feeble as if afraid to fully reveal itself. The light from the inferno behind them infinitely more powerful.
They reached the docks soon enough. Two little boats remained, one being more than enough for the three of them.
Headlong into the clearing before the water they flew, too frightened for any form of stealth and the moment they'd blindly made that plunge they lived to regret it.
Off to their right, rushing out of another path from the same dead forest, appeared another human form. Except it wasn't human, it's skin was pale, it's teeth like those of a feral wolf, long and dangerous, and it's walk was off, wrong, like that of no man she'd ever seen before.
Whatever it was, it was frightened. It had been in flight just like they had, fleeing from the hell behind all of them.
It rushed forward in long bounding steps, it's legs shifting and changing also unlike those of any human.
Ananias halted mid step, stopping her cold, his fearful eyes narrowing, turning cold. He released her hand and lifted the arquebus, aiming it's long barrel and pointing it at the strange loping figure.
She took a few steps back, the child tightly pressed against her, trying to make herself smaller.
Virginia, she had to protect Virginia. With tooth and nail and blood, she had to protect Virginia.
The strange man-thing, the Vampyr, as Blackmoon had called them, halted at the water's edge. It cocked one head, it's neck twisting at an odd angle, as if seeing running water for the first time.
It moved no further, something in what passed for this creature's mind told it not to venture further. It stayed there, it's body crouching, it's nostrils sniffing the water loudly.
And she remembered the old legends, the one's that spoke of running water and all things unholy. They couldn't cross it, couldn't even touch it. It was death for the undying.
The thing turned it's head this way, then that way, and it was during this that it saw them. It's eyes came alight, it's maw widening obscenely, rows of sharp white teeth flashing.
She watched as her husband's rifle, already aimed directly at the creature came alight, the crack-boom of the musket shot deafening.
Against her chest Virginia wailed.
Whether the shot from the weapon did anything she never did find out, for in the very next moment the trees to her right exploded, dead limb after dead limb shattering and taking flight.
The Dragon, the creature that they'd only just witnessed begin to lay siege to the only home they'd known since the birth of their child, bounded out of that forest like some gigantic cat, landing it's entire body atop the Vampyr.
She never got to hear the man-thing scream, never even saw it start to struggle. It was ripped in two by the great wyrm's jaws almost instantly. One half, it's legs, remained clutched within the Dragon's taloned legs, the other half was flung up and outward to discover just what running water did to a Vampyr.
The wyrm roared again, it's long neck craned backwards, it's primal howl, she was certain, carrying far enough for the entire New World to hear.
Then it turned those blazing eyes toward them, it's great maw opening, the blazing inferno rising from within.
And her husband screamed, loudly, like he'd never done before, and it was joined by another sound, a low wailing banshee's shriek. She briefly wondered where that was coming from, that second mournful, bestial cry.
It wasn't long before she realized that it came from her own throat.
End Part 85
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