Undead

Art and Ambroise were in a full out battle, stabbing and swiping at each other—Art with his wicked blades and Ambroise with his fingernails and sharp teeth. It reminded Niall of a movie his older brother had once showed him, where the big, burly hero had gone into war with the demons and in the end had come face-to-face with the king. Art had his blade raised halfway when Ambroise kicked it out of his hand and dove on top of him, pinning the stranger to the ground. The blade skittered and stopped right at Niall’s feet as they all looked on in horror.

“What do you want, Ambroise?” Art growled, his breath ragged and his face covered in dirt and sweat.

“Well, right now, I want these mortals to feast on…” Ambroise drawled, snarling in Art’s face. The man spit right into Death’s face, and the demon cringed away. “You will regret that, Arturo.”

“Not if you don’t have a chance to inflict the consequences,” a deep voice stated from behind. Ambroise didn’t even have time to turn around before Niall plunged the blade deep into him, all the way to the hilt. Ambroise coughed, sputtered, gagged…and just like that, he vanished, leaving the blade to clang on the ground right beside Art’s face.

“Thank—thank you,” Art stammered, accepting the boy’s outstretched hand and allowing himself to be pulled up.

“No problem. It was the least I could do,” Niall replied, picking up the blade and handing it to Art.

“What were those things?” Louis asked bewilderment clear on his face. Art spat on the ground and wiped his face with his shirttail before answering.

“Death,” Art answered simply, shrugging.

“Yeah, but why were they here?” Alana pressed.

“They’re trying to get me to join their army. I refuse. In this war, it’s every man for himself unless you want to be considered a traitor and tried for treason amongst the council. Trust me, the punishment is a lot worse.”

“Army?”

“War?”

“Council?”

“I live in a world you’ve never seen before, kids. I can’t be bothered to explain it any further at the moment. Right now, I think it’s important we get your car going so you can—“

“What car?!” Harry yelled, exasperated. “It’s gone! Both of them have disappeared!” Sure enough, when Art turned to look, the Ferrari had disappeared again.

“Let’s go into the old town, see if anyone can help us,” Hillary suggested.

“Are you sure you want to take that risk?” Art asked, raising an eyebrow. Hillary rolled her eyes.

“Look, Art. We have no other choice. Your truck isn’t big enough, not like you’d give us a ride anyways, and it’s worth a shot to search an old town to see if anyone there will help us,” Zayn argued.

Art sighed, rolling his dull eyes and jerking his chin towards the old town gates. “Fine, but at least let me accompany you. Wouldn’t want to run into anymore demons, do ya’?”

“Agreed,” Louis replied, and together they all carefully trudged towards the old, rusted, metallic silver fence. “Here goes nothing.”