The Bloody Masquerade

My body fluttered in a throng of moths as the blade sliced at the air where my chest would’ve been. Sensing the danger pass, my body reassembled itself and I raised my gun before the last moth returned to me. The seventh face of Ethelinda, another woman whose painting was hung in the Allaway House, contorted into rage as my Matter bullet burst from the barrel and ploughed its way into her forehead and pushed free from the back of her head in a blossom of blood.

The seventh body folded up onto the sandstone floor with blood trickling down her nose and cheek. Breathing heavily I let my body disperse into mist and reform at the other end of the hall. Ethelinda’s new body would appear rapidly and her rage, backed by panic, would make her lash out the moment she woke. As the appearance of each face varied in time, I decided to keep myself as far away from her as possible and wait for the next stage to begin.

I was cornering her now though. She was now on her eighth life. Only one more face to kill before I finally face Ethelinda herself. She would be angry and I had to admit the last couple of faces had been harder to fight. Numerous times had she managed to push me into a dangerous corner and nearly win this long fight. If I wasn’t able to shift and avoid the attacks, I would’ve died long ago. No wonder Ilda and the other witches struggled with this battle.

I watched blankly as the seventh body glowed sharply, bursting with a green and blue colour. Ethelinda was back and now I had to watch the disgusting shift once again. The corpse of the seventh body convulsed and sharply pushed herself onto her knees. I bit my lip as her bones violently shifted, forcing themselves to grow and shrink, thicken and thin, as the new body took over. With fresh blood leaking from healing wounds, Ethelinda’s eighth face grabbed the fallen sword and stood sharply.

“No one has pushed me this far.” She snarled savagely then grinned in manic delight. “You are definitely a worthy skin.”

“You won’t have me.” I snapped.

She grunted. “My daughters would let me. They would fight, yes, but not for their lives. They fought me to prove to me I had chosen them rightly. They believed it an honour for me to choose them.” She narrowed her eyes in annoyance. “If only you were my own, Edith. You would bow to me and let me have your body.”

I stiffened at that name. It was familiar. Horribly familiar. Hearing that name brought dark hazy memories, ones of hiding and fear, but also of warmth and brightness. I knew that name.

“Pay attention!” Ethelinda cried out joyously as she surged forward and took a swipe at my neck.

I managed to swerve out of the way and brought my sword down hard. Our blades met and Matter crackled and spat horribly in the air.

“That name! Where did you hear it?”

“You should know by now that I know everything about you. Your soul is in tune with my Matter. I know your past, even the parts you can’t remember.”

Ethelinda suddenly pushed back, forcing my sword to the side and lashed out violently at my flailing sword. She knocked it hard and the Matter that exploded from it caused my sword to fly from my hand and soar to across the hall. I barely had time to watch it skid across the stone floor as Ethelinda hurriedly dove for the kill. Barely dancing out of the way, I dashed away from her, launching myself into my wolf shape. I galloped fast and became nothing but a grey blur as I darted towards my sword.

I slid across the stone, shifting as I did, and grasped my witch-blade. Keeping myself low on my knees, I swung my sword up in an arc hard, smiling when I heard and felt my blade counter Ethelinda’s. Her sword flew back, giving me a single moment to attack. I grabbed my gun and fired rapidly. Blood spattered from her shoulder as she tried to move and blocked the next two bullets before grabbing her own gun and shooting at me. My body faded and the mist swirled away. She continued to fire at me and I only had a moment to gather my body and shift into moths. Giving myself barely enough time, I reappeared and fired a thick bullet. Ethelinda recoiled from the block but already her gun was being raised. We fired both at once and our bullets collided in a blue explosion of Matter. Ethelinda however hadn’t expected me to throw my sword. Streaking through the fading lights and wind, my sword impaled her jugular. Blood squirted out and spattered the floor and her neck. The eighth body fell to the floor, gurgling horrifically as her life rapidly left her.

Breathing heavily, I rapidly walked to the corpse. Placing my foot on her chest, I wrenched my sword free and whipped it to the side in hopes most of the blood will fly free. Ethelinda believed she could beat me. She was testing me, seeing how strong I was. I was now to face her real face and I doubted she was going to take me lightly.

I walked backwards while my eyes were fixated on the eighth face and my finger twitched against the trigger of my pistol. It unnerved me that she knew more about me than I did. She knew what I was. Who my father was. What the tiny hidden room meant to me. And that name, Edith, that I so readily recognised. I wanted her to tell me but she wouldn’t. She would wallow in the pleasure that she knew the information I so desperately wanted.

My pistol nearly fired when the corpse exploded into light once again and the horrible sight of the new body taking over, re-growing and reshaping the old, quickly passed. Standing slowly and laughing gently to herself, Ethelinda stood with a smile on her face. She was just as the painting had shown me. Her long black hair was tied savagely back, revealing her bird like nose, sharp chin and small eyes.

“You fight me now.”

“I won’t fail in killing you.”

She smiled, almost patronisingly. “You have proven the perfect body for me. Immortal, a creature of both worlds, and a shape-shifter. I will have you.” Ethelinda said brightly.

I fired my gun and the bullet flew passed her ear as her head swerved out of the way, beginning the final stage of the fight. She swept forward, raising her sword and swinging it in front of her. Matter slipped out of the tip in a tidal wave, tearing up everything in its path. I jumped and shifted, letting my owl take me into the air and out of the path of destruction.

This was the Matter I had felt in the bracelet. It was released now and whirling about Ethelinda in a mass of hate and rage. The faces had blocked it and prevented the true monstrous strength of Ethelinda showing through. She had been drastically holding back while I was fighting at my true potential. Suddenly her confidence in killing me made sense. Even I was beginning to doubt I would win this.

Locking onto Ethelinda as she absentmindedly sought me, I shifted in the air and let myself drop down on her. She danced out of the way of my heeled boot that impaled and cracked the stone floor and leapt back when I let out my own wave of Matter. It collided with her glowing sword, creating a crackling sound to fill the air, before she met me in the middle of my charge.

We danced in a whirlwind of blades and bullets. We were constantly trying to get passed each other’s defences but our attacks were only to be blocked or avoided. The floors and walls took the deflected hits and crumbled as Matter burned and ate at the elegant stone. The sound of sharp wind as I shifted constantly, echoed in the hall alongside our cries and the hissing of our Matter.

I stumbled back when she caught my blade and lashed out, catching my chest. I cried out as her Matter cut through my suit and skin and jumped backwards. I stood uneasily at first but forced myself to stand properly and meet Ethelinda’s stare, marking a pause in our battle. I breathed heavily, trying to ignore the sensation of my body numbing from exhaustion and the feeling of blood leaking from the ugly wound.

“You are fighting well.” Ethelinda breathed heavily as she tried to catch her breath. “But you can’t keep this up forever.”

“I will. I won’t let you have me. Not if it is going to help you bring down the Old World.” I snapped and tried to smother the wince that twitched at my face when a shiver of pain scratched at my chest.

“We were born to kill the demons.” Ethelinda said darkly and with a dangerous tone. It was the first time I had ever seen her serious. “We are Witches. We hunt the vampires, werewolves and jaguars to protect mankind from their sins and their corruption. Men go mad with the idea they can be immortal and given the strength of something far superior to them. They become even worse when it is given to them. I have seen it many times and I will destroy the Old World and finally free this world from those demonic immortals that have shadowed mortality for eternity.”

I scowled. “They’re people, not demons or monsters.”

“You are one of them though, a demon, so of course you will side with them. But I will put you to good use. I will use your body as a weapon against them.” She said firmly then stepped forward and raised her gun, firing numerous shots at me.

I shifted rapidly, bursting into moths and flooded to the other end of the hall to give me space. I could feel my wound slowly stitching itself. I just needed a little longer and my body would have the strength to fight again. Ethelinda had caught onto me however. She knew my weaknesses. She knew I was biding time to let my wound recover.

I barely had time to avoid the attack as a huge explosion roared from where Ethelinda stood. A bullet cut through the air, ripping up the stone beneath it from the sheer pressure it exhorted, before it hit my shoulder. I couldn’t feel the pain, just a strange numbness. The powerful force of it caused my shoulder to burst, tearing my arm from me in a blast of blood and flesh.

I stood there, completely frozen from shock. Very slowly, faintly aware that Ethelinda was now walking languidly towards me, I turned to see the horrific mess of the remains of my shoulder. My arm was gone. Not much blood was leaking out. Most of the flesh was burned but I could see some white of my bone.

“I told you you could not defeat me.” Ethelinda warned. “I will not be taken down by any demon.”

I collapsed onto my knees. My head was feeling faint and a strange blackness was taking hold. I was dying.

Ethelinda stood in front of me and simply watched as I died with her hands on her hips. “Be proud. You shall save mankind from the sins the immortals offer them.”

Rage flared suddenly. I wasn’t going to be cause behind the Old World’s destruction. I wasn’t going to be used like Ilda. I wasn’t going to let down Eugene and I wasn’t to let Alexis lose his mate in vain. I wasn’t!

With fury now boiling in my veins and sheer will keeping the cold hands of death away from me, I grabbed my gun and piled every inch of Matter I could into it.

“If I die, then I am bloody taking you with me!” I roared, baring my fangs at her in pure rage.

She barely had time to let shock flit over her features when I raised my pistol with blinding speed and sent a several bullets into her face. Blood shot out from her head as my Matter tore through her skull. With numb joy, I watched as Ethelinda stumbled back and let out a horrific scream. A strange green and blue light took over her, bursting out of her skin in thick beams, before fire engulfed her. The savage flames ate her rapidly then vanished in a deafening roar and pain engulfed scream.

My chest heaved as I inhaled heavily, trying to keep my lungs working. I stared at the wisps of flame and smoke, keeping my gun pointed at it until they finally vanished. Suddenly my gun felt ridiculously heavy and my fingers could no longer hold it. It clattered to the floor and I doubled over. Pain was beginning to come now and it felt like there were thousands of tiny mice eating at my shoulder. Trying to stop the tears from breaking free from my eyes, I laid myself down on the cold floor.

The sound of the hall being blown away like dust in the wind filled my ears. My world was falling apart, crumbling beneath me, just like the chains that held me to this body. I closed my eyes lightly. I would die with pride, knowing I was not going to be used by Ethelinda. Knowing I had put a brief stop in the destruction of the Old World.

With open arms and a light smile tugging at my pale dry mouth, I warmly accepted the cold embrace of death.