The Ansville Gatehouse - Chapter 3

Daren and Alicia race through the old city of Muskegon, trying to avoid those after Alicia. From a seedy tavern to an ancient library tunnel, things aren't as they seem for Daren. A breach of reality is shifting what he has always known about family

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This is NOT professionally recorded and is not intended to act like it is. This is a free audio recording of “The Ansville Gatehouse” short story. If you want to help support my projects and perhaps one day be able to make this professional, you can help by going to https://andrewnusz.com and clicking on the “Support Me” button. My hope is that you will enjoy this enough to encourage the writing and future publication of my writings.

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From the embankment of the train rails, Daren led Alicia hurriedly down the tracks to a side alley. The constant clicking of gears echoed high above. He glanced at Alicia once or twice to see how she was doing. She wore the stance of a warrior who had been in battle, except without any weapon. Her face was etched in concentration, watchful for anything that moved. Stealth radiated from her as though this was her first instinct. Her eyes though... They caught his attention. A simple word formed in his brain that chilled him. Predator.

Ahead, mounds of broken cement slabs and rebar decorated the landscape of dead things. Half-fallen buildings of once tall structures now lay in ruins across the dark streets. To the side of them, a large building was filled with shattered windows and metal beams jutting up into the air. On the corner of an upturned concrete slab, a man stood watching them pass by. His eyes fixed on Alicia, his expression like a hungry animal. A ravenous smile slithered across his face.

Daren instinctively took hold of Alicia’s arm and drew her closer.

Her body went instantly rigid. Her hand froze in his and she stood still for a second or two. A second later, he heard her barely whisper through soft, heavy breathing, “Don’t hurt him.” He got the distinct impression she wasn't talking about the slithery man nearby. He looked down at where he had clasped her hand. Hers was rigid with a firmer grip than he thought possible. She never turned to look at him but stared ahead.

More people came into view across broken patches of road and boarded up buildings. Their eyes were vacant with animalistic stares.

Near crumbled buildings lined makeshift vendors of found items. Most were gear parts fallen from New Muskegon’s underbelly. An assortment of torn clothes and boots hung from vendor wagons. Others, gaining the most attention, held an assortment of vegetables.

These were the most rare of items and was guarded by toughened men who dared anyone to take anything without bargaining. These were part of the gangs who would risk the climb up the many stairs into New Muskegon where they would steal what they could, returning at night to distribute their wares and food. Some were traded with other gangs. There was no respecter of persons whether male or female. They were all part of a gang, all participating in the operations with the exception of a few.

These were those who lived on the outskirts of the old city lining an enormous fence. Vegetation still grew here and was guarded heavily by the owners. They demanded harsher payments for their produce, wanting to keep most for themselves.

The system that governed the old city was harsh but effective.

The bleakness of life was worn on everyone’s faces.

Daren didn't fit in anywhere. He never had.

When he was offered the job of a lifetime, he jumped at the chance to work for Aero Transport. It meant he would finally be given a safe place to work, not the jobs given by the ruling gangs. He didn't remember much of his younger days. The things he did, well, those were best forgotten. He gave a glare, forcing a flashing image of a street corner with him held at bay by powerful arms. His mother stood in the street, held firmly by rough hands of a hardened warrior-like guardsman.

No! He forced the image to the back of his mind. He couldn't dwell on the past.

Turning a corner, he aimed for the park district where he could take a shortcut home.

Crumbling buildings gave little to hide behind so he moved on at a fast pace, crouching as people drew near to any one of the burning barrels lining the streets.

Stench of waste and smoke filled the air. A hunched over man at a barrel looked up at Daren and Alicia before giving a slight nod before lowering again. All around, fire of the barrels cast shadows on stone walls and dark alleys.

They were nearing another corner of an alley when Alicia’s hands flew in front of him. She was breathing heavy, eyes focused on something he didn’t see. For a brief second, the sapphire stone came to life before going cold again.

Crouching, they peered around the corner.

A nearby house was boarded up with so many holes in the roof, it was kind of pointless. Two of the uniforms were at the front door with one of them dangling a scraggly looking old man from his throat. The look of pure anger was burning in the uniform’s eyes. He flung the man to the floor boards before kicking him a couple times. The old man doubled over in agonizing groans before the other uniform spit at the old man. They walked to another house nearby and the same thing happened.

“Nice bunch right there,” Daren whispered with a shake of the head.

“You don’t know the half of what my family has done,” Alicia glared, rage threatening to spill out of her eyes at watching the uniforms beat on the helpless.

When the uniforms were out of eye sight, Daren tapped Alicia on the shoulder. “Come on.” He turned and made his way down another block following an eastern direction.

“How far do we have to walk?” Alicia asked at one point. She was constantly looking about her with an ever increasing unease in her eyes. She was staring down another endless block of crumbled houses and half clothed men and women.

Daren was about to say something when her expression turned to dread.

“They’re close!” Her whisper was harsh and she drew up her hands as though to fight bare handed.

Daren turned around but saw nobody near them.

From another block away, someone gave a startled cry that ended abruptly.

“There!” A shout rang out. “I see her!”

Daren darted a glance down several roads. Grabbing Alicia, he pulled. “This way!” He spun about and ran hard down the road, leaping over upturned slabs the earth pushed outward. At the next intersection, he turned a hard right where several old lanterns hung from poles. A nearby building stood with the sound of voices from inside. A metal frame hung crooked above the entrance that read, “Pete’s Tavern.”

Alicia skidded to a halt, eyes going wide in fear.

Daren grabbed her by her shirt and grated, “Either there are out in the open! Which one is it!”

Alicia shot him a hateful look but took off running again.

At the entrance of the tavern, a foul smell poured out alongside extremely poor singing and laughing.

Daren pushed her through the door and followed close behind.

***

Pete’s Tavern was as dismal as the smell that filled the air.

Straggling, half-drunk men and women sat at wooden tables as music filtered out of a media box, a jumble of cords, glass tubes and dials. At one end of the room, a gruff looking man with a patched eye and scar down the left cheek, watched Daren and Alicia the second they walked in the door.

Daren gave a slight salute to Patchy as he called the tavern owner. One hand gripped Alicia’s shoulder and led her through the smoke fog to a corner booth.

Stepping out from behind the counter, Patchy approached the booth with a crooked smile. Leaning on the table, he eyed Alicia a second before turning his focus on Daren.

“You get lucky today, sonny, or are you going into slave business? She ain’t from around here. You take your eyes off her for a second and she’ll be forced to the floor by twenty sex starved dogs.” He gave Alicia a wicked smile that said he might be one of those men.

Daren grabbed Patchy’s face and turned it towards him, away from Alicia’s increasing menacing stare. “Pete, I need you to do something for me.” He glanced at the tavern door then back at him. “Any moment now, some bigwig thugs are going to be here. I need you to make some noise.”

Pete’s gaze turned down in a scowl. “Now, listen here, Daren. I own this establishment fair and square. I’m not going to wreck some furniture for you stealing some high class tail from some rich lord. Furniture don’t come cheap!”

Daren put on his most charming smile and gripped Pete’s shirt collar. “Do you remember last week? I got you introduced to Babs, remember?” Babs was one of his co-workers at the factory who was noticed by every man in looking distance.

Pete’s eyes lit at the memory and gave a slight chuckle. “Boy, do I ever.”

“You owe me.”

Pete scowled again. “You sure know how to kill the mood.”

“Don’t have much time here.”

“What do I get in return?”

“Another shot at Babs,” Daren growled. He felt his insides tighten. Time was closing in fast. He knew the second he mentioned Babs, it was a lie. He was out of work and Babs had made certain he paid for her hooking up with Pete.

Pete stood straight, pondered and turned to one of the tables in the center of the room.

Slouched over drunk sat a massive bulk of a man who looked just as mean drunk when sober.

Grabbing a bottle from a nearby table, he swung it across the man’s head. It cracked with brown liquid pouring over greasy hair. “I told you, biscuit butt, pay up on your tab!”

The bulky man turned in his chair with a snarl that could match a beast in the woods outside the perimeter fence. In a rage, he screamed and flung out massive arms.

Pete ducked and ran behind the counter.

With a roar, the man raised to his feet, gripped the chair he was sitting in and flung it across the room.

It hit the back of a man scarred on both sides of the face. Tattoos lined the length of his muscular arms with naked women.

In a matter of seconds, the tavern exploded with shouts and fists flying.

“This way!” Daren grabbed Alicia by the hand and led her under swinging arms to the counter.

Pete waved them on hurriedly, his eyes darting this way and that.

Just before he made his way to the back, Daren got a glimpse of the tavern door exploding with splinters of burning wood flying through the air. Two uniforms marched in with guns firing.

Sprinting down the narrow hall, he saw Alicia reach the back door right before an explosion of white energy blasted his ear drums.

Instantly, lights flashed white and the yelling of the tavern dimmed till nothing was heard. The world about him drew in and all was dark.

***

Opening his eyes, he gave a startled gasp!

All around was a fog laden grassy hilltop. Moonlight cast shadows on the wet dew about his feet. Other than this, there was no sound.

Disoriented and more than a little worried, he took a few steps forward where the crest of the hill lay. The moon's orange glow outlined an enormous mansion silhouetted with trees. Flickering lights glowed from the many windows with a soft echo of voices from inside.

Nothing made sense! Where was he? The landscape was all wrong. He had to be outside the perimeter of the city! All the warnings about the outside world was flooding him with images from hunter stories. They were the ones who foraged the lands outside from time to time when traveling to sealed in farmlands. Here though, a mansion stood in the midst of a dense forest. The trees were so green and vibrant even in the dim moonlight. The grass wasn't brown but lush without the constant looming of a sky city's shadow.

Slowly, he made his way, creeping through ever growing taller grass that helped conceal his movements. The terrain was always sloping up till at last he reached level ground and a lawn of trimmed grass. Trees once again shaded everything in sight. But this was good! He could hide easily.

Walking stealthily from tree to tree, he made his way to a clearing where he could see the mansion easily.

To the right, the mansion's front lawn opened up with large basins burning fire down a lengthy stretch of gravel road. Closer, a side door was propped open from the heavy warm air.

That was strange, he thought to himself with a frown. When did anyone ever keep doors open? Especially in the open air where the unknown lurked.

Closing in on the building's perimeter, he kept to the shadows till he was safely at the corner of the open door.

White orbs of light hovered in the hall's domed ceiling casting at intervals down a long stretch of a hallway. Walls were decorated with murals depicting battles but the landscape, the soldiers themselves, they didn't look recognizable at all. It was as if the painter decided to combine a mix of magical fantasy to an old world system of machines. The warriors, for that's all he could fathom, were decked out in strange metal armor that glowed with lights holding also glowing artifacts in hand, fighting enormous terrifying beasts. The whole thing was surreal like something in a dream.

The hallway split at the far end where ahead, another door was open. From inside, a long circular table held a large map. Around the table were men and women dressed in the same fashion as the paintings on the wall. They were hunched over the map, all talking in excited voices. But the words heard were muddled.

Closer to the open door, a man and woman held hands. Something caught in his throat as sensation of familiarity flooded in. On the backs of their outfitted gear, they wore a house crest shaped in likeness to large curled claws of something emense. A strange wheel pattern followed inside with the symbol of the Church's trinity symbol behind an ornate cross.

Suddenly, footsteps were heard down a secondary hall and the man and woman turned.

The second the man and woman turned, his heart skipped and everything inside screamed this was real! But...how?

In a pained whisper, he let out, "Mom...Dad..."

But they were dead! They were murdered in the streets of Old Muskegon as cowards! They left him here! He had watched the horrifying scene play out when he was twelve! Their god let them die in front of him as he watched and listened to the cruel laughter of his captors. He remembered distinctly the severing of the heads. His captor forced his eyes open as he screamed and died inside that day. The coldness inside his captor's eyes were steel. "Now renounce this god of yours, this pathetic religion of yours or die like your parents!"

There was nothing in him left to fight. He watched in horror the blood pool around parents' dead bodies. He remembered all the stories told in secret from their hidden books. Where was God now? Was this the type of God he wanted to believe in? Someone who let his faithful followers die agonizing deaths? Who won that day?

In that moment, his life drained of meaning and purpose. He was a corpse of a boy to wander the dredges of Old Muskegon.

The footsteps turned into a young man running down the hall. He stopped short of the map room, catching his breath before saying, "My pardon, but I've come from [[Holdsburth]] to deliver a message."

Several of those gathered whispered expressions of shock. Somebody distinctly said, "That's near the [[Midlands]] on [[Exodus]]!"

The boy stepped into the room and from a pocket, withdrew a scrolled up piece of paper. He laid it on the table and flattened it out.

"I come from Lord Jarods of the eastern province. He sends word of an emerging flank that has breached one of the crossroads near the Midlands! He believes we are being invaded on the home front." He stabbed a part of the map with a finger. "Also, sentries from this world have picked up movement in Old Detroit. Hell Hounds on the abandoned highways, Dark Phantoms on Lake Michigan. They are moving in strategic places heading northbound...here!"

The man who resembled father straightened his cloak, looked at the woman beside him with a thin smile. At her nod, he turned to the assembled men and women. It seems our time of rest is at an end. We've known about this for a few years. Invasion was eminent. We all know our jobs and what's at stake here. The outer worlds have been breeded by dark sorcery and the help of the other side. We've stood as guardians and servants under the banner of Sherwin. Whether the rumors are true or false in the homeland, we still have a job to do. Our sworn oath is to defend against the night. And that is what we will do!"

A shout rang out from around the table as one.

"Seth, James, Francis. You're with us." He turned to another man. "George, get a message to General Riggs. Tell him to open channels from Delta base and send long range messages to all the house lords. Invasion is upon us. All hands are needed. Our houses will unite. We have sworn an oath to Dragonblood. We will defend our lands against the evil brought on us." Saying this, he reached down and gripped a glowing blue wrap of chain at his side. "We are sworn to the House of Dragonblood, defenders against the Night Breed." He stood a little taller then and with mother beside him, her own hands touching a sword with a glowing hilt, they marched down the hall towards him.

***

Lights flashed and he was back in the tavern.

Daren yelled and ducked low, plugging his ears from the intense shockwave of sound.

Alicia darted to the side as the door in front of her burst into a thousand pieces. Instinctively, she leaped backwards and to the side with a knife appearing in her hand. She swung so fast, it was a blur of movement.

A man Daren had missed, was recharging the gun he had just fired and aimed at his head.

Blood spattered the floor as he gave a scream. Alicia's knife plunged hard into the side of his neck, her foot kicking him to the ground. With her own scream, she plunged her knife down and across, severing the spine.

The man went limp with blood pooling around him.

She looked up with blood on her face. Her eyes were otherworldly, born from years of war. He had seen that look a few times by men who had lived through the wars the high lords recruited them into when needed. They were never the same, not that it mattered. They were broken before serving anyway. He had a suspicion it was a way for the sky people to rid themselves of the lower class down here.

Turning, Alicia leaped through the door and he followed, jumping over the dead body.

They raced hard down several more blocks of houses and buildings with holes for windows. Alicia only slowed when she realized she was quickly losing her way. She glanced back and Daren motioned for her to follow. He ran hard down a side street.

His mind was reeling back and forth, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Had he dreamed all this? While escaping the tavern? He couldn't make sense of anything! It was so real though! It was like he was there! But where was there?

The shadow of two city islands crossing in the sky darkened the way ahead considerably.

Ahead, an old church loomed tall and black. Age had discolored the stones and the steeple had cracked and fallen. It had been one of the first buildings built when Muskegon was founded.

Seeing him slowing, Alicia frowned. "You live in a church?"

He gave an exhaustive sigh but held back a snarky reply. The image of slicing through the man at the tavern was fresh in his head. She held no hesitation or remorse.

"I don't live in a church. I just know a quick way to avoid being seen."

Alicia glared. "By going into a church?”

Daren leaped up the first few steps and she followed. He was about to open the door when he noticed Alicia freeze. Puzzled, he stepped back and looked at her. “What’s wrong?” He looked to where her eyes were locked on a painted eye above the doorway.

In a haunting whisper, she said, "It's not safe here." All traces of anger was gone.

He looked from the drawing to Alicia, confused. What got her so spooked? It was a drawing.

In the same haunted tone, she added, "They will notify my family."

"They?" Daren asked, completely confused now. “What?” He stared back at the painting again. “These are just mediums. They’re harmless old ladies."

"Not them," Alicia whispered. The way she said the words made his hairs pick up. "Those they speak to."

Since the time Sinvin had remade the world, Christianity, the leading religion of the world, slowly faded into the background. In its place, the old religions rekindled with the old gods becoming a prominent force in everyday life. For Daren, it was just one more religion to mock. But sometimes, deep down, he could never shake the feeling that at times, much like now, eyes were on him and they weren't human.

Looking from Alicia to the drawing above the church doors, an uneasy feeling crept into him, burrowing deep. He couldn’t shake it.

Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "Who exactly are you?"

Alicia turned away with a flash of shame washing across her face. Angrily, she said, "I told you what you need to know." Pulling the overcoat she wore tightly about her, she turned to leave.

Daren grated his teeth, feeling the coldness in Alicia’s character bite. But another feeling, something that never quite left him despite his turning away, gnawed at him. It was this sensation of knowing. There was something about Alicia that tied him much closer to his past, the spirit realm of things. And that disturbed him deeply. She obviously believed fully in the gods and was scarred deeply. What then did that say about him?

She was rounding the corner of the building that led downtown.

Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her around.

She yanked hard, dislodging him from herself and began marching stubbornly on.

"There's another way!" he hissed in her ear. He wanted to shout at her stubborn, stupid pride. It was going to get them both killed.

She took several more steps before stopping altogether. She half turned in his direction and he saw the beginning of tears breaking through a cold exterior. Whatever memory the painted eye dragged up, it was powerful.

Letting his emotions cool, he said more gently, “Take the street to the right. See the statue over there?” He was pointing to an empty lot where once held a garden and walkways. Now, all that was left was a single large statue of a man dressed in old period clothing.

Alicia followed Daren down the road for about a minute.

“We’ll turn left and there will be a large library.”

Before he could say more, a shout rang out.

Both of them spun in the direction of the sound.

Near the large statue in the garden, one of the two uniformed mercenaries stood. His eyes locked on them for a second before he shouted, “I see her!” He charged forward, raising his gun.

Alicia swore and lifted a hand. Her sapphire necklace sparked to life.

"Run!" Daren grabbed her and spun her towards a narrow alley.

With her in front of him, he pounded the ground with his feet, not daring to look back and trip on the uneven cement.

A few minutes more and they exited to an opening. Directly ahead loomed another large stone building like the church.

He ran forward and around to the back of the building. He never stopped and leaped up the flight of cracked stairs to a pair of old oak doors.

Alicia hissed from behind, "You're going to trap us inside!"

"No, I'm not! Trust me on this!"

He rammed hard against the doors, feeling the immense weight it still had after all these years. Another hard push and it opened slightly with the grinding of old hinges.

Pushing his way inside, he waited for Alicia before with her help, forced the door closed again.

From nearby, he grabbed a wooden beam and lifted it into the makeshift slots on the doors.

"That will only slow them down for a second!" Alicia growled in irritation.

"It will be enough time," he replied roughly. "Come on!"

He sprinted down the hall as fast as he could, not bothering to look at the ornate designs etched in every crevice of the pillars and walls. He had seen it all before.

The hall opened into a large decorative lobby. To one side held enormous stained glass windows and a tall ceiling depicting a mural painting. Open doorways led in several directions where ancient books lined the shelves.

Alicia was right behind him but when she entered the lobby, she skidded to a dead stop, mouth opening wide in disbelief, caught off guard by all the books and ornate designs.

Near the center of the large marble stone lobby, a large staircase descended.

He didn’t bother with being careful. He skipped several steps on his way down, holding to the railing for support.

At the bottom, he paused, taking several breaths.

Alicia was next to him a second later, not willing to be shown up.

He darted to the left, coming to a narrow basement.

Alicia paused at the entrance to the hall and narrowed her eyes in worry.

From above, an explosion went off.

"We're almost there," Daren said. He stretched out an offering hand towards Alicia. "I promise, there's a way out of here."

Closing her eyes briefly, Alicia took in a long breath and stepped into the hall.

To the left, several locked doors stood with the last door open ajar.

Daren entered first, heading straight to the back.

When Alicia entered the room, she immediately noted the cramped space. Tables were filled with ancient catolog cards in rollo decks. Two high back chairs sat facing each other to one end with shelves lining the walls. With only a single beam of light coming from a thin slit window near the ceiling, she barely made out Daren kneeling next to a hearth.

She glared profusely and marched to where he knelt. "You led us nowhere!" She hissed with anger flaring up. "It's a small cramped room with no exit!"

Daren glared in turn. He had no time to debate the issue. "How about you just wait to make your judgment."

In front of him was an old fireplace that wasn’t much to look at. Reaching in, he grabbed hold of the iron rack and with a little effort, pushed it aside.

"Get in!"

"What?" Alicia replied in shock.

"There's a small opening at the far back. It's unnoticeable because it was made that way. Now, just get in and hurry!"

Somewhere behind, the sounds of muffled voices were heard.

"Now!"

Alicia stepped forward and knelt.

In front of her, she could feel a cold draft coming from the back of the hearth.

Looking back once, she shuffled into the ash, grunting to fit into the narrow opening.

Daren gave a cursory glance around him to make sure no evidence was left behind and made his way into the tunnel himself. The space was tight but he was able to turn.

Grabbing the rack, he slid it back into place before scooting himself around again.

Alicia's feet shuffled as she crawled on hands and knees through the blackness.

In a whisper, she asked, "Where does this lead to?"

"I've been down here a few times. Just keep going. It leads into some mining tunnels."

For the next ten minutes, they crawled through the blackness at a steep slope. From time to time, they would pause and listen but nothing was heard.

After another few minutes, the tunnel expanded.

The air was fresher here with a cold breeze. The tunnel opened to where they were able to stand.

"Hold up," Daren called out. He reached out towards the wall and felt.

On a carved-out shelf lay two smooth stones.

Taking them in hand, he struck them together.

A spark flashed before igniting something beneath it.

Fire shot out of the wall as it expanded with rapid speed. In seconds, a large cavernous chamber lit up. The fire itself was contained in a metal basin that ran the length of the wall. The oil burned hot with a wheel next to Daren to adjust the amount of oil.

Stepping into the large chamber, Alicia turned around in confusion. "Where are we?" She looked up to realize they were a lot further underground than she had thought. The ceiling was at least twenty feet high. All around her were markings of a mine. Where she stood was a chamber connecting two tunnels. One had a very old wooden sign with the word, “Danger” written on it.

Two old tables and chairs dotted the dirt floor with barrels lining walls with carved out nooks. In the nooks, broken pots and various containers were stacked. A pitch axe leaned against one of the chamber corners.

"Years ago, my parents took me here," Daren said softly. He looked down one of the dark tunnel openings and just stared. He hated dragging up old memories. They always reminded him of loss, of a dead hope he once believed in. That was all gone. He lived in the present where nothing but darkness thrived.

With a cold glare, he said, “Everything’s in the past. Everything’s dead and all that remains is darkness.”

He turned to see Alicia watching him. There was a moment when he swore he saw empathy in her expression but that was probably the trickery of light.

"I was very young and naive at the time. We had been with a group of other people who hid in these tunnels."

"Why?" Alicia asked. She didn't sound annoyed as she usually did. She probably detected his mood shift or detachment that always came with being in this place. He had hid a few times before when running from a gang or city patrol. He’d never stay long or risk letting himself go crazy and lose his head.

"We were hunted," he shrugged. He picked up a small stone nearby and threw it into one of the tunnels. He realized how uncomfortable the silence was becoming and went on. "Anyway, they took me here several times to escape. The tunnels aren't very long but served its purpose when it was used. Over a hundred years, people used this as a hideout from the rest of the world."

Unbidden images flashed in his brain. The dream he had just had...the crest on his father's overcoat. The cross... What was his mind trying to tell him? Or was he finally going mad?

He turned and motioned for Alicia to follow.

Entering the tunnel without the sign, he turned to the side where another wheel was fixed to the wall. Turning it, he watched as a metal plate lifted to allow the flow of oil to pour into another set of basins down the hall.

Lighting the oil basin, he turned and pointed to a chamber to one side.

Inside, a slab of dirt was carved out of the wall with a worn mattress. On the other side of the room was another slab made into a table with two cubby holes nearby. An oil lantern was set in the middle of the table.

"Sorry for not having much else. I never come down here," he shrugged.

"It's fine." Alicia walked towards the mattress She took several deep sighs before laying down, staring at the sandstone ceiling.

"There's blankets nearby. I'll get some for you."

In a tired voice, she said, "I haven't relaxed in over two years." She turned to look at him. "It's hard to recognize a friendly gesture anymore." Pursing her lips, she said, "Thank you...thank you for doing this for me."

Daren huffed. "It's what I do, I guess."

"Rescue people?" Alicia tried on a smile but it didn't quite reach her mouth.

"I help people." Daren shrugged. "If I see someone who needs something, I help them out. It's the right thing to do."

Alicia shook her head slightly. "You're an odd man, Daren. Nobody helps anyone without expecting..." She paused and for a moment, worried creases formed on her brow. "Were you expecting something in return?"

He shook his head with a sigh. "No, Alicia. I don't expect anything from you."

She frowned at this.

He knew all too well how odd this sounded. Perhaps something did rub off on him from his parents before they died.

Before unpleasant memories could surface, he turned towards the opening. He hadn’t missed the exhausted look in her eyes. He needed rest as well.

From carved out shelves, he drew out two old and worn blankets that needed serious mending.

Returning to Alicia, he draped one of the blankets over her and gave a thin smile.

Alicia’s eyes flickered open, herself on the verge of exhaustion. Finding a blanket around her, she looked up at him but sleep was fighting to take over.

"Get some sleep. Tomorrow, I'll show you a quick way out of town."

When Alicia didn't respond, Daren squinted his eyes to see her more clearly in the dark.

Her eyes were closed and she breathed softly. The obvious fact was that she had never rested until this moment.

"What a day," Daren whispered. Kneeling, he tucked the edges of the blanket in close to keep Alicia from feeling a draft in the cold tunnels.

He lingered for a moment, taking in the form of her mouth, the shape of her neck, everything about her was beautiful...in a dangerous way.

"Just stop," he shook his head at the foolishness rising up. He got to his feet and for another few seconds, looked on.

How long had it been since he was with a woman? Even at work, he tended to avoid them. Their coarse talk could sometimes rival the men. Their tongues wagged worse than most. He simply didn’t want the drama associated with such entanglements.

Straightening, he closed his eyes briefly to calm himself inside before walking out the door.

He didn't notice Alicia's eyes watching him leave or the small disappointed frown.

Situating himself as best he could in his own room, he tucked the blanket around him and lay facing the ceiling.

Thoughts drifted in and out of his mind. The biggest one though was Alicia. Who was she? There were too many unanswered questions that brought back long sealed memories.

As the burning oil sputtered in the drafty air, he closed his eyes and dreamed.

* * *

It was always the same dream.

High in a mountain village, an old man sat underneath a wizened tree. The sound of a cascading waterfall echoed in the distance.

Slowly, the old man's gaze turned upwards.

"Daren..." his voice spoke and it sounded like thunder rumbling.

Like many times before, he ignored the voice. Instead, he wandered the strange dream world and the wondrous gardens of this ancient grove. Once before, he had answered the man in his dreams. The man had told him to search for him, that he held the keys.

The dream, though vivid and surreal, made no sense.

This time was no different than the last.

Wandering towards the waterfall, he stepped to the banks of the river's edge. Across the bank was the high mountain cliff the waterfall fell from. Spiraling towers of a palace drifted in and out of sight behind clouds.

If he wanted to, he could will himself to fly to those towers or even to the other side of the mountain palace. There, he knew what he would find as it always was the same thing. A war of magic and death.

Here in the village was a contrast of lush green grass and apple blossoms, cobblestone roads and cottages, this was perfection.

Making his way back through the small village, Daren paused at an apple tree and picked a bright red fruit from the limbs. He crunched into the meat and tasted the sweetness of it all.

"Daren..."

"Leave me alone," he grumbled. Why did he have to get disrupted from tasting heavenly fruit?

"The time has come..."

He paused in his chewing and frowned. This was new. Every other time he had this dream, the old man's voice simply called his name. He never responded and that was the end of things.

The voice continued. "Prophecy will be spoken at dawn on the summit of the mountains. A kingdom will fall and usher in the dark ages to come. Prepare the way blood of Adam. For you will be part of the remnant of Dragonblood."

"What the heck?" Daren blinked and felt a sudden ice cold touch.

"It is time to leave behind what you know and what you fear. Walk the path set before you and remember who you are. Remember the bloodshed and why."

Chills ran up and down his spine. This was not part of his normal dreams at all. He felt its realness as tangible as he could feel his skin.

Without warning, the old white-haired man appeared. His face was wrinkled from an age Daren couldn't begin to guess. The walking staff was intricately carved with a dark red hue. At the top of the gnarled staff was held a globe that seemed to be alive. The image of a world spun in the center of a swirling cloud.

The old man gazed at Daren without blinking. "Son of man, blood of Exodus's children, hear me!" His voice was loud and clear, demanding attention.

Daren's limbs shook as the reality of it was too real.

"For too long, the way between worlds have been usurped and man's greed bled through with evil intent. The gods who broke faith since the division of man now play their hands in two worlds. The one world, they can only whisper to the minds and steer the course. But the other, born of magic where man does not belong, they play for keeps inciting man to new evil heights. The blood ran thick from the beginning of your conquest. But now the wrath of the native-born, they have watched long enough. A war will bleed through two worlds as the death of dragons and unicorns scream out retribution for such crimes. Prepare for the prophecy's war. The end will come on the heels of blood and human's need to be a god."

The old man's eyes were frighteningly close now. He didn't recall when the old man had moved so close. Raising one of his hands, the man touched Daren on the forehead. With eyes closing, he whispered, "Remember..."

The sounds were that of screams of the dying.

All around, men and women yelled in the thick of smoke and mayhem. The scene was one of nightmares. All around, beasts that could only be born out of imagination, descended on crumbled city streets. Blood covered everything from maimed arms and legs that lay torn from disfigured bodies. Teeth marks and scorched flesh assailed the senses. Ahead, winged nightmare creatures with eyes within clouds of lightning flew like death descending on helpless victims. One eyed monstrous beasts walked the Earth as if legends had come alive except only the most evil of tales. They roamed the streets with cannibalistic hunger. Men and women ran screaming in every direction as the city burned and monstrous claws swung down, tearing into flesh and bone. The whole scene was red death.

Drums...they beat in the distance like the thundering of clouds.

Without warning, the blood bath sang with metal and brilliant blue fire.

Out of nowhere, chains with a blue diamond head, covered in strange fire, shot out towards the giant beast. With a shout, the one swinging the chain yanked hard and the chain spun, ramming itself hard into the beast's chest.

Where the diamond point end met nightbreed flesh, the contact was explosive. Fire combusted instantly and the beast roared in agonizing pain.

Above, the terrifying figure of a winged eye swept down fast to intercept.

It was met with a sword burning bright as the sun. Its wielder moved a hand and the sword flew through the sky like an arrow.

The winged eye darted to the side but the sword was swift and true. Directed by a woman's hand below, it swung to the side and pierced the winged creature with fire. The eye gave off an inhuman screech of pain before exploding in orange flames.

The blue flamed whip smashed into the chest of the beast just then and in a roar that shook the trees all around, it fell to it's knees in rage as fire burned from the inside out, in a brilliant ball of flame.

From the clouds, a strange orange glow pulsed in and out for several minutes. The clouds themselves began to swirl clockwise but not like forming a tornado. Instead, it was a slow spiral turn.

The glowing orange pulsed brighter still before in a single deafening roar, massive claws broke through followed by an enormous scaled beast with wings. And on its back, a figure that did not seem physical but in parts immaterial, ghostly even. It rode with a cloaked hood.

Roars of demon sounding screeches rent the atmosphere as the world of man turned to madness at the sight. And in the center of the blood bath, Daren watched in horror and dumbfound disbelief, his mother and father, outlined in blue fire, the cross at the center of their crests burning white.

The scene flashed and nothing at all resembled anything remotely familiar. But again, mother and father...they rode on horseback in front of a massive train of warriors. All about, a strange surreal city of light and otherworldly creatures assembled as winged beasts and disfigured wolf hounds howled. Unnatural men of grotesque features wielded eerie green blades, their eyes vacant except the green hue of glowing pupils in blackness. Cyclopes and enormous dogmen tore through the streets. Creature after creature of legendary monsters appeared. The name, "cryptids" came to mind. They were halfbreeds of unnatural and unholy unions, bred for the single purpose of destruction.

The vision slowly faded from view and Daren was left shaking, his world spinning out of control in every which direction.

The old man before him slumped on his staff before walking a few feet away.

Turning again, he said offhandedly, "You have been seen and are no longer safe alone. Speak the word 'Dragonblood' to her ears and she will teach you what you must know." This said, he waved a hand wide and all became black.

* * *

Drums...

Whispers...

Voices came to him in the darkness. He watched himself sleeping under the blankets as the sound of drums grew louder. Voices of an ancient world whispered in an unknown tongue.

A sudden guttural sound hummed as a black shape appeared hovering overhead. It slowly spread like oil over the ceiling before two tentacle fingers formed, slowly moving down to hover above his sleeping body.

Fear swept through him as the evil became tangible.

The air quickly turned hot as the ability to breathe was lost the closer the black tentacles came near.

In a terrifying understanding, Daren half awoke. In confusion, something inside snapped and he screamed.

Light flashed all about him and the ground trembled for a second. He fell out of bed choking hard on something that felt like sand in his throat. In the same instant, the darkness fled.

From the entrance to his room, Alicia stood. All about her came the sound of electrical energy crackling with a brilliant ball of white fire engulfing her fingertips. The sapphire necklace pulsed a brilliant white light matching the intense energy flowing out of her fingers. Her eyes even glowed somewhat, the spectacle chilling Daren to his bones. She wore a haunted look, eyes locked on him, wide in shock.

With her eyes never leaving him, she simply whispered, "Dragonblood..."