A Thousand Cuts

TYKE

Ringing...

I open my eyes against grit, the taste of it filling my mouth.

A wave of pain crests over me as I gape, airless. I can do nothing but try to fill my lungs.

And I cough, clawing at needles, the creasing of dryness and brittleness interspersing between my fingers.

The smell of moss and fungus settles in the recesses of my limbs as I drag myself to nowhere until chirps and the wavering hoots of owls tell me otherwise.

Woods.

I lift myself enough to stand on my elbows, a mass of branches and twigs slipping down my back. Eyes adjust to the darkness, and I try taking in the slightest sound.

I crawl forward on all fours, not yet trusting myself on two. My ribs pound, my lips drawing back as I hiss away the pain. Most likely, I got stabbed by at least a dozen branches. One thing is sure, my knack for falling in trees hasn't developed over the years. Probably because it never happened before...

Muffling curses won't change a thing. If I cannot fight, I'm as good as cold meat.

A sudden realization hits me, and my mouth dries. Cerberus and I fell together. I held this idiot firmly against me, ready to crush a few bones for him, but as I was force-fed with leaves and twigs, he wrestled and...

My breathing halts at once. A crystalline trill, one of a skylark, echoes across the forest. I listen. Watch the cover of darkness swallow columns of trunks tightly tangled together. It goes five times and stops. Skylarks are not nocturnal...

Fay is there somewhere.

Chest heaves as I fill in my lungs to shout her name?—

Got another idea like that, Tyke!?

I blow instead, coughing straight away. Nevertheless, a flame of hope sparks in me, my hands clenching into fists for a strength I cannot relinquish.

Then silence, another breath.

Something's coming.

In the dark, the sounds of shuffled leaves and laboring lungs grow louder. It's a four-legged creature, and it's limping.

A shadow, its outline as if crayoned black, leaps out of the penumbra, its three-headed features recognizable from a thousand.

I'm thrown back, my beast lurching down on me, sloppy licks on my face, whimpers and yaps invigorating my ears...

"Cerberios." I grab my dog and cup one of his heads, fucking grateful to have found one of my tribe members. Something cold and hard dances over my face, knocking over my nose as Cerberios's tongues incessantly lick my skin. And I furrow my brow, mildly confused. Is that my key on one of his collars?

My hand glazes down his shoulder, and he whines. "That's the sound of a broken paw, bud."

Large wings flap above me before a buff gargoyle lands inches from my feet. "I never imagined seeing an orc fly in my life. That was a big free fall, bro."

I drop my head, somewhat relieved, sinking in drool as Cerberios can't get as much as I can take of him. "Fayra?" I whisper, struggling with my throat muscles just as I struggle with the rest of my body.

Two cold hands palm my torso, perhaps checking I'm not about to walk into death, progressing up until they reach my cheeks. "I'm right here."

And I ensnare one in mine, keeping it pressed against my skin. "Fay..."

A sparkly face cranes over me, and I realize I'm the luckiest bird, trapped in a cage of golden hair...

Her brows knit. "I forgive you, orc."

I grunt in an attempt not to simper, which I don't need to suppress for long. Fay's smile is entrenched in sadness, pulsing back into my mind where we're at. Down and beat.

"The smell of dead rats is growing. That means we should get moving." I recognize Donna's rusty voice, weaker than usual, as if corroded. She breaches the dark and a sunset awakens in me to see her in Fay's clothes...

Everyone is here.

Everyone.

Everyone...

"Where's Vine?" I ask, looking around for anything that resembles a whirling log.

"Um... Don't care, long hair?" Deon jests, extending a hand.

I moan as I get up. Not only are my ribs giving me hell, but there's a nip at my chest. I open my suit, Fayra's wand cutting into my Kevlar. As I adjust it behind an inner strap, I can't help but wince. Bloody dragon... I look around at once. "Magnus?"

"We don't have time for him. Listen!" Donna shout-whispers, crouching.

Deon squats beside her, and wings open, blankets her with one before placing his spear flat on the ground. Watching them, my feet spread instinctively as I take up a defensive stance in front of Fay.

"What's wrong, pup?" I say, clenching on my lip while Fay's trembling hand slips into mine.

"Can't you hear?"

I gaze into the woods. This silence... it's quiet as a ghost.

A chime resounds—a knife—followed by wave upon wave of them. Blades unsheathing, the keening of the slicing turning sharper and closer...

"They're here." My skin lifts as I pull Fay down with me. I whisper in the small nook of her ear, "Fay, fly up a tree. Try not to make your wings shed dust or burr. And wait in it." The scent of honey and snow envelops me as I breathe in her hair, sensing a tear pinpricking behind my eye.

Time breaks, my soul ribboning with her scent that smells like laughter, and I press my head against hers––

The visions of a future she weaves in me...

What if they never came true...

As I pull her back, her glimmering freckles cast a fragile glow between us.

"Tyke." Her voice, molten, feeds this flame in me, and as she blinks, it's as though this single flutter of lashes somehow stretches yet another second into eternity. "I won't be far."

I try pulling myself back from the waking light in her eyes, to resist her lips...

She trills at me before blushing with a smile. This is the first time she does it just for me, not in a field out of reach or by impulse, but meant for me alone. I'm so worn-out; it makes my eyes mist because the feeling she's ripping out of me ties honor around my soul like a wedding cuff. Little bird...

I grab her shoulders and bring her lips to mine, impossibly dreamful, too delicate for this world...

"Go." I force myself away from her and watch her fly up in the dark—a twirling line circling up, as a transparency of wings blends with the night.

I then lock eyes with Deon, who shakes his head left and looks in the same direction. Remembering Mordana and my useless silver bullets, I pull out my axe at my back and wait.

In a pulsing moment, I shut my eyes to the handle in my clasp. Thought I'd never hold it again...

A bark runs up my ears, leaving me stone-faced. Distressed, I scold Cerberios harshly. "Out of my sight. Go!" I growl, pointing anywhere but where we stand. Paw after paw, Cerberios steps back, weakly whining before turning and running away. Please, not my dog. Gods, spare him.

Whispers and far-off chuckling distort into the wind, the stink of rot fouling the night.

An ominous hissing sound echoes throughout the trees. "You smell expensive, orc..."

Cerberus barks, once.

And I shudder to find him gone.

My grip tightens around my handle, my body in position for combat.

Another whisper slithers across the brume. "You have something precious... and we want it."

"First time someone shows interest in my axe!" I shout.

"Wag your tongue, orc. It won't for long..."

I make eye contact with Donna and quickly look away. The woman is slowly undressing herself in silence.

Soon, a low growl is heard, and as two heavy thumps resound to my feet. I might think we can take them down.Donna, teeth snarling, stares at me with crimson eyes, and I hold my gaze this time. Her ghastly smile, assuming it is one, is soon redirected to her left as Deon brings her snout to him. "Got my back, babe?" he whispers.

She opens her jaws, and I think I'm witnessing the end of Deon when a drooling tongue sticks out over his cheek. A lot has happened during my absence...

The sounds of rustling among the trees catch my attention.

I squint. A silhouette is weaving between the pines, shiny eyes dispersing as many more follow. Motherfucking vampires. They come as if crossing an otherworldly portal, all garbed in black leather, studded with chainmail and rings hardly echoing the moon's light.

Other glints not coming from trinkets trigger a grimace as I recognize these as fangs.

"Come and get some!" I shout, my axe jerking forth.

In an instant, they are gone, like fucking entities. "Cowards, show yourself!"

"Where is she?" blows in my ear, and I jump to find nothing.

I hack my weapon into the bark of a tree. My fist joins, crushing mold and my panic. "Show yourself!"

Something flashes at my neck. My blade meets the resistance of bone, which I ignore and slice without hesitation.

A deafening squeal shockwaves in my ears, making me want to seal them shut with cement. My forehead creases to the limb caught up in the thicket of leaves, fingers twitching, yellow nails bitten at the quick. My lips draw back. Someone's lost a hand.

I circle on myself, my axe at the ready.

An object cuts me behind the knee, forcing me to kneel. I swish my weapon, confusion growing as pain soars.

Deon groans, "Gotcha!"

My attention races to him. His spear is plunged into a vampire, who suddenly ashes in the gusts. I bite my cheek and get up, spin around, waiting, but no one comes at me. "Rah! Come and fight!"

"Tyke," rumbles in my ears. Donna is tearing at the neck of those bloodsuckers, three crawlers on her back, biting into her skin. In response, her howling blazes into the night, and I take cognizance of the situation.

Screams.

Hisses.

Pain.

"Tyke!" Donna growls and snaps, "Tyke, you're—" I tilt as I begin racing toward her.

"Shit!"I halt, swallowing an acute pang at the crease of my armpit.

Donna tumbles to the ground, her heavy wolf head slamming against a trunk.

The quick set-off of a flame torch draws my attention to Deon. In flames, his runes seem to flash blue over his skin, and attempting to protect Donna, he skews two vampires with one stick off her back.

More land on her as she twists and turns on herself.

A light sting sends another pulse of pain up my shoulder.

I raise my arm. It's shredded, with fresh scabs, those left by knives.

Grunts turn into moans as I drag my feet, hunching from exhaustion I haven't seen coming.

Until I stop.

Until my axe drops.

My leg burns.

I take a brief moment to look down at my thigh. While I typically have sharp vision even in darkness, colors sometimes escape me, especially in my current state. Still, I notice the tears in my jeans and the encircling black stains––many––my heart pounding in hopes it's not what I think it is. I probe it, hands clasping around raw pain, and I fucking hiss, palms quick to race for my face.

I stagger in disbelief. They're soaked, sticky, and, from the smell, bloodied. What's happening to me!? I haven't fought yet!

Then, liquid, hot and thick, trickles down my nose, over my lips, down my chin, and I wipe it with the back of my arm. More blood.

Deon's voice booms as I raise my stunned eyes to him. "They're slicing into you! Do something!"

Uneasiness catches at my feet, and I sway left and right, staggering as fangs and knives, hard to tell, prick and slice into me. Everything spins as if I were breathing chemicals.

On my knees I fall, hands flat on the bristling ground, lungs agitated, unwillingly getting accustomed to the repetitive stabs at my back.

Air missing, my nostrils flare and I feel a two-beat increase in my heart rate. Oxygen gets heavy in my body, an unsettling charge of the atmosphere instantly stunning me—a storm. Rain begins to pour down, petrichor and iron meddling with every aching cell of my body. I need air.

"Deon, help him! He's encircled!" Donna shouts.

I'm seeing different versions of this ending. Different paths as my head drifts. A hurricane of teeth keeps sinking into me. No matter my moves or how much I try spinning around, I can't catch a twitch of fangs. They keep biting into me, never killing me...

"Tyke, fight back!"

I get back on my feet, trying to figure out where I am as my vision floats.

"Fight! Tyke, you have to fight!"

Deon and Donna's calls bang against my skull, stirring a ringing that makes me deaf to everything else.

But then, it hits me. Vampire venom. As an orc, rather than just numbing me as it would other monsters, it's turning me sick, feverish, slowly incapacitating me. At least, it's not without payback. Because my blood, it turns out, makes them just as ill, if not worse. And my eyes slit into grins to at least know it'll be a slow and painful death for them.

"Tyke! Watch out!" A dozen words fumble through. Deon's...

"Feel this!?" he grinds as he drives his spear into a dark outline near me. At that moment, a giant blood cell explodes, blood splattering over me, the blow knocking me down. "A little kiss from heaven!"

"Get up and fight!" he roars, shaking my shoulders.

I can't. I open my mouth, unable to speak or move, my eyes suddenly glued to the sky, scrambling for Fay. Goddess Arfa D'in, let her live...

And then, the iron sky opens, and I might believe I died.

Light descends on me, thunder and lightning meddling with a silhouette bathed in the gold of a sun. I must be hallucinating…

"Tyke..." The whisper flies like dust in the wind, specks bouncing off blue eyes as it echoes. "Don't give up now."

Bug...

"There she is!"

I shudder, almost crying.

"Stand up!" Fay grits. Her fierce expression forces me to extend my legs, and I immediately rise.

"Fay..."Thoughts leave for an automated version of me––I wrap an arm around her. Walk. Retrieve my axe.

Against her chest, my fist turns into a hard rock as I enlace my weapon with another, a rush of anger spreading over me. It destroys the sickness in me, birthing something brutal in its place.

"Let's end this, shall we..." Vine. Taking advantage of the wind, her voice glides across the branches, stripping my rage bare.

I step backward.

Following Vine's call, the vampires quiet down. I cock my head to see a weak-kneed one walking into a tree blindly. My right ear picks up a few thumps, and then I notice some are prostrated on the ground, a finger spasm here, a head jerk there, vomiting blood.

Guess I gave them a taste of me, after all...

My body might be ridden with tremors, it hardens stiff. Green eyes are dancing in the dark, subtly breaching along Vine, and her thigh trailing behind her. "I don't have all night."

My lips buck up. I imagine the landing must have been rewardingly excruciating.

"Tyke. Why is Be?—"

I twist my head at Fay's hacked question. She's gripped at her chest, a small clutch I'm quick to cover with mine. An asthma attack is kicking in at the wrong time... alienating me as I feel my lungs embrangle themselves at the thought of it. "Why is she doing this?" Her voice might be full of war, but her labored tone barely conceals the terror in her trembling hands.

"Bug, I want you to breathe in and hold the air in your lungs for three seconds, then release. Keep doing this."

"Tell me?"

I turn back to this limping traitor. "Because..." As my fingers fork into Fay's, my other orbing into a tight fist of hatred around my axe, I bare my teeth, bloodthirsty tusks on show. "She wants to die... at the hands of an orc."

A snort of delight escapes Vine as my lips seal with disgust.

I keep watching her, my snarl intensifying, trying to find the tiniest speck of oddity in her. It's not complicated. A full-fledged sense of fuckness is very present in the girl. Whether it's how she puckers her mouth, motions her head like a grinning snake bobbing to the sound of the sickening tune she's humming, or that very precise ghastly hum she's performing.

I stretch my arm as her eye catches a thin glint chasing my blade's edge. "Careful with that axe of yours. You could chop her head off so easily with it..." She halts her steps, her eyes moving down my arm. I follow their course until a delicate nose and lips enter my frame, a golden light growing at the back of Fay.

She's glowing up…

"You wanna share your idea, little light bulb? I will listen."

"Talk to me," I groan, stepping to the side to hide Fay as much as possible. The issue is that Fay is a curious bug, little fingers clamped on my arm with her eyes peeking over.

"Careful, buddy, she's a serpent. She strikes when you least expect it." Deon's voice fragments the tension into a mental pause, Vine shutting up, visibly irked. She's sucking on her cheeks, juggling her eyes from Deon to me, unsure what to do or where to go as it looks. I only need a couple of seconds to count how many sentries are around her—twenty, more or less. How her wound reopened and how her fingernails grind against one another. Vine's mind is whirring, I can tell.

"Don't worry. I won't be duped twice." My feet stay rooted as she drags her vicious self forth, heaviness riding up her thigh.

"Shame. I like my men controllable," Vine mutters through clenched jaws, neck twisting toward Deon, keeping her snot-green pupils focused on me. "But you, night angel, you liked my hand of steel, didn't you? You weren't complaining for all I know," comes with a nicker I'd like to color my blade with.

Deon stays quiet at her quip, though his eyes scream violence. I know that look because it's exactly what I feel.

I stagger once more.

"Tyke," I hear, and my breath deepens after that. Fay's whispers have always been silk to my ears, asthma or not. "I'm right behind you... Stay calm. Poison... It travels faster when your heart... beats hard."

I stay quiet while she puts on a brave face, pressing my fingertips against the thumping strings of her wrist. I must get her out of here. Her veins are pounding with fear.

However, Fay's right. Vine keeps blurring, her face bursting like a balloon every thirty seconds, toxins going strong in my bloodstream. My other grip at the back keeps tightening around Fay's wrist when it happens. Can't even bear to think about losing it.

A toothy smirk slashes across this fucking actress's face. "Hold on to her while you can."

"I trusted you." My instinct was right. Should've smashed her head back in the Eeriefornia woods.

"Trust, captain, is a quality only fools treasure..." Those words tumble out of her mouth like venom, slow and low, mangled into a jumble of incoherent sound bites of which I can't care less.

I strike Deon with an apologetic glare. He pinches his lips before readying his gaze back on this hyena.

She halts, but only her feet. Vine seems inclined to listen to her own voice, pursuing her miserable rhetoric. I might thank her later as it allows me to muddle on a fucking plan I haven't figured out yet.

"I know. I know. I'm unredeemable..." Looking up, Vine is avoiding Deon's searing gaze like the plague. "But I always knew I was going to Hell, so... who cares at the end of the day what I chose to do."

I'd hunt her down now. Rip her belly open and strangle what life remains with a loop of guts around her neck.

But I reckon the scowl on my face might be selling the idea short. Vine frowns at my lifting axe and gives a get-over-here head motion.

Bloodsuckers bunch up behind her, quietly amassing into a tight huddle thicker than night, and it keeps growing...

A vampire whisks by my head, followed by many more as they gather into this twisted cluster.

This damn elf, with her back cloaked with vampires, begins massaging one of her wrists with great force. "Your cuffs were sure tight," she sniggers. "Maybe it's time we swap places." Vine pushes her fingers into her hair till her arms tense high as she stretches, her smirk never leaving her. "What do you think, Captain Tyke?"

I hold on to Fay, groaning as the rain burns my face with cold, mouth then catching in a gasp from being pricked by something sharp.

"Mosquito bite?" Vine smiles, a wink twinkling with that sort of glee. "What about thousands of them?"

Deon twirls his spear, a dozen vampires wisping by him. "They're at it again!" Light cracks from its tip, exploding a line of these shits into a burst of black smoke.

I swirl my axe to the hissing and screeching as six vampires lash their fangs at us. Pinning Fay between me and the tree at our back, my teeth grit as I slash into one's neck.

The potential outcomes overwhelm me.

One is a sudden miracle, Deon and I finding the strength to take every one of these fuckers down.

Another: We all die.

I sweep the toe of my axe through a flood of maniacs, eyes wading across gore-soaked fluids. My forearms and back are rabid with strain, and as I create a shield ensuring no vampiric hand reaches Fay, I don't know how long I can keep going like this.

I was wrong... more than twenty of them!

Heads drop on the ground in thuds. I should be enjoying this, but I cannot. Nausea has taken hold of me, and I can't shake it off.

I catch sight of Deon standing before a motionless werewolf, struggling as he kills what he can among the dozens of creatures circling them. He tosses a vampire to one side, the spear tip thrusting back into another gut, eviscerating it.

"I can help!" cries Fay.

I almost want to laugh. I will not allow it, no matter how much Fay intends to participate in this set-up.

"Stay behind me!" I can't have her risking it. Never saw her in action... don't want to see her in action. Orc mates protect each other, but Fay, she's neither an orc nor possesses muscle, weapons, or training.

Pain sears in my mouth, and my vision turns red to a jab at the nose. I hack the fucker leeching at my side in two, splitting his skull from crown to chin, and send him against a tree.

We were doomed from the start...

"Take her with you and get out of here!" I shout at Deon.

"No. Can't do that!"

"Enough!" Fay roars as my eye catches her stepping aside.

I back myself against her, trapping her between me and the tree. "What are you doing!" I grate, fucking not needing this.

"Let me help!" Fay slips out and spreads her wings, my heart seizing.

"Surrender!" a voice thunders, its pitch beastly, thick, corrosive. My feet trip from it, expecting it to come from a dragon, a giant, anything but from Fay.

As if her wings held the sun captive, energy builds up in her back before pulsing out of them, something I've only seen her do once before... that grainy video the night she was with Deon in the alley.

Breaking one knee to the ground, I prepare myself for the blow. The earth under my hand feels warm. I can knead into it with ease as if it were waterlogged. The energy she's building up is altering the atmosphere... I still can't believe how much power is bursting from her.

I twist my head to one side. Unexpectedly, vampires duck and screech in unison, as if attacked by hordes of bees.

Vine is no longer stoked. Confusion is sweating out of her as her head swerves in an arc to her little army, running in fear.

And then I see it.

Protrusions stemming from inside each of Fay's pixie speckles, like thousands of daggers, are running into these parasites!

I blink again.

The woods have returned to their static state, a bundle of vampires grunting on all fours as they regenerate. Fuck. Magic isn't something I have in me. All I can say is that it's a double-edged bitch, a dangerous rose—stunning to look at, lethal to touch.

"Tyke." Fay's struggling voice crashes into me like a wave of uncertainty. "I can't... I can't control it!" And all I want is to catch this tide coming in and absorb it whole. Instead, it feels like sinking.

I've got to trust her.

Trust.

"You don't have to control it. Let it go!"

We lock in a stare. Maybe it's a second, perhaps more...

As her eyes close, every cell of her body seems to release a breath far too long held.

A flash of light blasts out of her, striking me with full force.

Air and ground leave me, and at this very second, I might also think my soul.

Wood creaks and breaks as my spine and bark clash, cutting my breath in two.

Coughing this madness, I crawl toward the black of nowhere, sound slow to return in ever-growing fizzes, but not as much as the blur of the ground glistening in my eyes. Eventually, shadows and silhouettes form and flicker, and a small laugh drips from my mouth upon seeing everyone bruising the grounds, limbs twitching while they all bleed, suffer... barely conscious.

"I've got this."

My eyes work their way up to this voice. It's as if a halo of flames surrounds Fay, wings flitting high above us, surrounded by burning branches.

And then a nip at my nape helps me rise from the ground along powerful arms. I swallow hard as I slant my attention down one of the grips. Yellow nails... those of a vampire.

Vine cackles. "I think you should surrender, darlin' fae!" She then points at me. "That is if you hold your orc dearest to you."

The air gets thicker as I watch Vine flick her other finger, levitating a stone the size of a softball. With her chin up, she watches with grinning delight, her stupid rock floating in front of her face. If this is a demonstration of force, she sucks at it.

Fay revolves around herself as she follows Vine's index.

She sees me, and her wings droop a fraction.

But she then frowns and charges at me. I watch her intently as she mouths, "I got this."

Wings burst wide as they break.

Her gaze dims, and I choke.

"Fay!"

A dark dot grows over her stomach, staining the hem of her crop top red as a bloodied object slowly erupts from her abdomen. I can't process what's happening; my teeth clatter, every cell trembling to the blood flowing down her legs.

"Fay..."

The foreign object painted with Fay's blood drifts in my direction. It stops at my agonizing tears before dropping at my feet.

Vine's rock.

"Still got that aim right, don't I, captain?" She laughs, my hatred burning deeper.

"I wanted to help..." Fay's words die on her lips as her little body collapses.

Leaves heft on impact. I yell her name, the world stopping. My world...

My frightened eyes rove over a ring of vampires. They're slow to approach her, fumbling while others show resistance in doing so. "Stay away from her!" One lifts his fangs at me, the twinkle in the eye, dim. Others wrinkle their noses as if a stench is filling the air.

"What are you waiting for, you fools?" Vine tears away a piece of dead bark from a Fir and, as she crushes it in her clench, she screeches, "Teach her a lesson!"

"She reeks of Prince Von Crimsonian. She's his, mi'lady," stammers one.

Vym's! Skin peels away from my arms, collarbone, and cheeks as I push on my knees, feet scraping at roots. No claws will stop me. I can't let them!

"What about Fidr showing you who rules over your insignificant little heads?" says Vine.

I shake my head, words bursting into a gnarl. "Stand back!"

Warnings don't work. My grapplers wring their talon-like shackles around me as I grunt and twist. Watch in horror as vampires land, scrapping at the meat of Fay's stomach.

"Tyke!" Her head jolts, hair rustling in the moss. We fall to pieces in our screams. They push against each other while I fight my way out.

Wrestling, scratches, head butts, anything! I try to shake off those hands, but they hinge deep into my skin, scalp, arms, legs, neck... building up this rage they won't let me release!

Who am I fooling? There is no hope in hell.

I failed her. Of all the things I wish I could change ...

It was just a dream.

"Alive, Fidr said!" An M-gunshot follows Vine's voice, sending the vampires running.

A forceful breathing abrades my tight throat as I warn her, "Vine." Her neck twitches, taking an interest in my murmur. "Don't let my freedom lapse because, the moment they release the pressure on me, say a finger, you're dead."

"Captain." She waves her arm over this sliver of land. I follow the trajectory of her move. Pity sears a hole in my chest to find Donna lying beneath a grove of trees until I am forced to return to Fay and her now hushed cries, and this same pity ashes what is left of me. "You're done."

I keep roaming my eyes over the scene, despair coiling inside me to find Deon nowhere but here.

Wrenching an arm out earns me a punch to the back of my head, and my mind goes blank for a few seconds, dragged back into a vicious embrace of vampires.

Someone kicks me in the crook of my knee, forcing me to kneel, pain and rage melding into a sea of horror as I gasp.

A hand slithers over my shoulder and gets hold of my chin. With an iron-like grip, it drags my head toward Fay. "Watch, orc," spits in my ear.

"Orik, stop the bleeding, will you?"

To Vine's orders, a vampire detaches himself from the shadows, sneaks toward Fay, and picks her up by her hair.

Her cries dig a pit in my stomach as I watch him trail her by the head. This Orik then stands a few feet away, holding her upright. Teeth set into my tongue to this shitface flushing his body against her.

"Tyke." Fay's small sobs have me writhing, her blood spewing from her mouth, burning my veins. "I'm... sorry."

A hand covers her mouth. "Shut up!" before Orik slits his wrist with his fangs. Dragging his hand down her body, he kneads into her flesh, sending an ocean of hate silently drowning me. I will kill them all. All. Of. Them!

His bloodied hand reaches her wound, causing a tear to fall. I can feel it trenching into my cheek as her injury begins to heal.

"Hey, this way, captain." The grip over my jaw forces my stare upon Vine's beady one. She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, exhaling, "Phew... that was a close one. Don't worry too much, Tyke. She won't die today."

She then grins at me for seconds, then breaks this nightmare of a smile with, "Time to jump into my dentist role."

Vine saunters to Fay, Orik freeing Fay's mouth. "Little fairy, show me your little teeth."

My bug spits in Vine's face, who slaps her in return. I should've tossed this cunt off Magnus when I had a fucking chance!

"Woo, feisty," Vine mocks, glaring at me intently as Fay's jaw fights in her grip.

She's moaning in pain as Vine forces her mouth to submit, and I'm powerless!

"Stop it!" I yell. "Stop!"

Fay won't abide. No, my fairy doesn't surrender easily. She tosses her head until Vine barks out a cry. "Nasty fairy has teeth indeed!"

Vine pulls a knife from her ankle sheath, and I quiver. "Please, please don't. I beg you."

"Beg, captain. I like it." She makes the knife dance along Fay's cheek, my bug's eyes widening in horror as lines of blood carve into her cheek.

"Stop!" I scream, wrestle, try charging forth, knees grating the dirt. "Drop the fucking knife! Drop it!"

"Oh, Tyke. What is your favorite saying when it comes to me again? Ah... 'Shut your goddamn mouth.' Yes, that's about it..."

My chest heaves frantically.

Screams shatter in the dark, and I cry to know it's Fay.

Skin lifts to the blood flowing down her chest.

I drop my head, eyes shut.

Tears won't stop.

I want her pain.

I'll take it all.

Everything.

Make it stop.

Suffering moans and gargles ripple to my ears, and I lift my head.

I try slowing my heartbeat in the hope of stopping it entirely.

I stay focused on Fay.

Stay focused on the crimson drips.

Her face.

Her beautiful face... laced with tears and blood. Fragmented.

"Vine..." thrums out of me, control no longer a concept familiar to me.

Stay focused on a deep cut from her upper lip to the tip of her chin.

"You better bury me low."

Gums ripped apart, a range of lower teeth gone. "Tyke," Fay tries saying between her tears, applying that pressure I didn't need.

I break. All that is me breaks. "Fuck!"

Life as it was is no longer compatible with me. If we get out here, and gods, it's going to take a bloody miracle, I won't allow anyone to whisper Fay's name, will break any spine that dares fumble into her, dismember anyone who threatens her, and if ever someone pushes a tear out of her, they will choke in a bucket of their own blood.

I'm quietly taking aim at Vine. It doesn't matter when I come out to play. She's pushed the beast out of me. Oh, I'll show her. I know exactly what I'm going to do to her...

Silence takes hold as Fay's mouth flashes with a glow.

It fades in the dark, such a dying ember.

Mate...

My body spasms. I jerk forth, froth at my lips.

Mate...

Fay. She was always my mate. No spell can tell me otherwise!

"There was a little spell preventing the tusks from growing!" Her smirk grows brash as it is aimed at me. "How cute. A seal!" Vine cackles.

She was there all along, under my eyes. In my arms. Against my skin... We were fighting against the wrong enemy. Fate had been by our side all along and we never knew. Fay's got orc blood. How? Why? And for what reason a spell hid her genes, I don't know. But she's part orc. Orc.

Amwaki...

"She's the one, fellas!" Vine takes a step back, seemingly engrossed.

She tosses a handful of something I can't distinguish until the pebbly sound hitting a heap of dried leaves hints at teeth.

"Let's wrap up," Vine says, twirling a hand in the air.

Amidst the downpour, the wind picks up. Treetops shiver, a chopping sound thrumming closer.

A flying engine erupts from the gushes, spotlights beaming down at us. An aeriojet...

In its descent, it flattens the trees surrounding it and hovers above the ground, allowing its ramp to expand.

It touches the ground with a clank. They're taking her. "No! Please don't do this. Please. Please!" I shudder. "Vine!"

"Sorry, it's out of my control."

"Why!?" I grate, watching Fay's head bob from left to right as Orik follows Vine's footsteps.

This psychopathic elf halts, hardly giving me a quarter of her face. "In exchange for a gargoyle's life, I became a slave to a queen. But apparently, that gargoyle prefers to spend it hating me, flirting with werewolves instead. What can I say? I've always been sentimental. Just like you, I guess..." Her smile widens. "It was nice to meet you all, but I've got to bounce." She sends me a flying kiss and then looks behind me, gliding a finger over her throat. "Orik, bring our little guest inside. Someone is dying to meet her."

I watch them climb up the platform while the cool of steel kissing my throat promises something I eagerly anticipate... I press on its edge. Feel the blade splitting my flesh. Wanting life to spill out of me.

A figure flashes before my eyes, and I can't help but breathe heavily.

There's a wet thud on the ramp, Orik's head rolling down his feet.

His spurting body falls, taking Fay with it.

Yet she never touches the ground.

Clad in black, bare arms the same color as if dipped in ink, a man who I can't see his face holds a long dagger in his grip, and in the other, Fay...

Another vampire.

In an abrupt and heavy motion, he drops a knee to the ground, almost collapsing, his weakened state sparking a gambling chance within me.

Vine won't detach her eyes from him, seemingly engrossed by his glinting chest harness. It might be less from fascination and more from fear as she takes a few steps back.

Who is he?

I push my neck against the knife with even greater force when I recognize his windswept hair, and when a corner of his eye meets me, the flat of my tusks dig into my cheeks.

Vym.

"Elf, what is your name?" he whispers, removing strands of Fay's hair from her bloodied mouth.

"Bell Vine, at Fidr's command."

He won't even look at this piece of shit. "Did you do this to her?"

She raises a hand. "Guilty!"

While contemplating my fairy sprawled on his lap, Vym freezes in place. "Shame I need to let you go back to your mistress. I would've loved to get to know you better..." His tone is the same, no matter which circumstance I find him in—sly and coy.

He's fucking stroking her cheek now! "Don't touch her." My voice comes out as a whisper of nothing.

"Release the orc. I want to have a little fun."

"Fidr awaits, m-my dark... lord."

"And I wish to have some..." Vym turns his head, flashing his fangs at her, "fun."

The void at my back is felt at once as the night's crisp air stamps at the sweat on my spine. Vine's minions are backing off...

"Pick up your weapon, Officer Tyke," Vym taunts, hugging my unconscious mate like a prize.

I glance to my left, where my weapon is, and hardly able to stand, pick it up. "Vym, release her." My voice is in pieces. "Put her down." Honor, dignity, pride... insignificant details because throughout Fay's bones is my life thread, and he's holding it. The idea it may break is suffocating.

"Or what? Do you intend to fight me?" Vym scoffs, bracing an arm under Fay's, her feet motionless, hanging above the ground.

"You asked me to pick up my axe! Yes."

He grins, and a frustrated growl rises in my throat.

My weapon jerks at him, anything to provoke a reaction. "Come at me!"

Vym doesn't bulge, only his red eyes move. Narrowing into sly slits, they pin my back against a wall of invisible glass, wretchedness setting in my body. It shakes as I shout, "Bring it!"

"Why would I fight someone who can barely stand?" His expression turns mockful, an imprint of dimples on each side of his lips, hardly containing his disgusting grin. "Look at you."

I mustn't give up.

I stare at my trembling arm, the load of iron winning over my grip. Sweat, tears, and rain salt my vision. Frantically, my eyes waver, and the world starts to whirl about.

Vym's gratuitous exhales; it ripples throughout me as he seems to sway, his body and Fay's distending uniformly as they stretch up.

I need water.

There's a sag in my shoulders. "Then let her go."

He takes a glance at his feet, winding a bloodied thread of Fay's around his finger.

"If you want something..." Vym takes a foot forth and snickers, "you'll need to show a little respect. What about you..." His eyes flash at me as a feral roar echoes in my skull, "grovel at my feet instead!"

A force bends my mind, and my bones become possessed. The ground fucks me up, and I fall to my knees.

Behind, Vine splutters, "Fidr would never allow him to live this long. Kill him!"

His expression sets back, his eyes and lips thinning. "I would be careful how you speak to me, demi-being. I am a little upset today." I notice his lips quiver that he's fast to hide in a smirk, then brings a step toward me. "But you are right, elf."

My breathing quickens. "Your sister believed you to be different."

He drops his last step, slow as it touches the ground. "Believe, you mean?"

"She's dead."

Everything about him softens, his grip loosening around Fay, along with his grin.

Sound turns to a standstill as his stare on me shimmers.

I don't blink, afraid to break eye contact, our lives hanging to the fact that he's sensitive and could reconsider this fuckery from unfolding.

But I'm wrong. His smile returns, but this time, it's lifeless, and threatening enough for the ring of vampires formed around him to withdraw. "Who said I was like my sister?"

A choked gasp pushes out of me as Vym lifts his dagger and shoves it behind Fay.

"Bell Vine, would Fidr appreciate wings instead?"

Fay's head lifts groggily, her dripping mouth widening at the mention of her wings.

Our gazes immediately collide. "There's magic waiting to burst out," I shout. "Don't be afraid. Let it out."

She's panting, and I want to embrace her for the fear I see in her eyes.

"You can do it, Fay. I saw it." Her lost gaze morphs, and I swallow with relief at a determined glimmer beneath her frown. Like a sharp star, a spark flares and swells exponentially at her back.

Light-filled wings begin to crack, crackles louder than stones in a fire. Soon, the red hungry glints twinkling in the background shut off gradually as the vampires shield their eyes with their arms. Vym's head shoves aside with a grunt, and it bloody sends my lips outward. We still have a shot at this.

"That's it, bug. Here we go."

"I don't think so," hashes Vym.

The cling of a dagger tearing at satin and Fay's coughing cry still dwells in me as my eyes water.

Wings drop on the floor.

Fay as well.

My knees beat the earth as I attempt to lug myself toward Vym, anger storming up my throat. "Fucking die!"

He snorts at me, making my veins swell as I tug. Several grips yank me back, and a bone shifts at my side. I grunt, teeth digging into my tongue from a dislodged shoulder. The gods. I've prayed for them. Prayed all my life. For Orcana and my kind. To help me pull through. To guide Fay. Today, I realize I was praying to fucking nothing. Gods don't exist because if they did, they'd know better than just watching.

"Bring her those instead and tell Fidr her daughter is dead. Because well... I'm starving." Vym licks his lips. This is the third time I have seen him do this. And it's not out of hunger...

"She wants her alive!" Vine barks as the knife on my skin budges so slightly as it awaits specific instructions.

Vym bares his fangs, gaping squarely. "And I want her dead." Blood boils at his words as my eyes won't leave his mouth, a fucking weapon. His expression shifts, lips reaching for his ears as he angles his head down to Fay. "Emptied of her blood."

"Your hunger, my dark lord, will lead to your death."

"Your insolence, to yours."

Vine crouches and picks up her wings, shaking. "She will not be happy."

There's an emptiness taking over me. Never thought the void would feel so heavy... Stepping inside, her snarling face disappears as the ramp closes on her.

The wind blows once more and across threads of mine, I watch the aeriojet soar.

"What a fun night this is!" Vym suddenly exclaims. "Now..."

Vym crouches to Fay, clamps her cheeks, and heaves her in one grip. "How should we conclude this?" The obscenity in his voice drags as he holds her up to his face.

He flings her back against his chest as he turns to face me.

Fists clench by my side.

Fay's holding on, blinking of saccadic flutters to stay conscious—barely. I swallow many times. Bile is rising in my throat, the sickening feeling of powerlessness destroying me from within.

I shoot a glare at Vym.

He chuckles. "What?.. What is it, orc? Never saw a fae bleed before?" While black strands whip over and behind him from a torrent of gushes, Vym's defiant footsteps converge on me, and I stay silent, acid overwhelming my mouth.

A growl rises in my throat, never to leave my sealed lips, seeing Fay's limp, rolling head. Horror stifles my bones, and I become paralytic.

I can barely keep my head straight, unsure if the venom is to blame. Her feet are swaying lifelessly at his every foot shuffle, and a tremble raids my lips to the thought her spine might be broken.

Vym's grin expands. "What is the matter with you? No more talking?"He's right. My eyes are all I have to shred him. I'm petrified.

An inaudible mutter coming from Fay forces a reflex out of me, and I fall on my hands, pushed by the delusion of crawling towards her.

"You stand on your knees, and on your knees alone, Officer Tyke." A fist yanks my hair back, forcing me up on my knees. Only then do I realize a gloved hand above my face. Vym's.

Deftly, his hand goes from my scalp to the body fading away in his arms. He traps Fay's cheeks in one clasp and shakes her head. "Stay with me, Fayra. I want you to see how much he bleeds out for you."

Her eyes make their way down on me. My jaws clamp as her face breaks into a poignant cry.

The dagger returns and adds pressure to my throat.

"I'm sorry, bear." Water keeps streaming from her eyes, taking the grit of her cheeks down every groove and lines which once finely shaped her lips, and I breathe out the shiver of a cry.

"Don't be." I smile. Take in her one last time, what I always dreamed of seeing upon my last breath. Her beautiful eyes.

May they cut my head clean.

May it be fast.

"Close your eyes, bug."

Upon the slick of a blade drawn over my throat, pain shifts. It's building up in my heart, forcing itself against its walls. And it fractures it. Pieces crumbling to find a sea of tears in front of me. Raging. Writhing. Hopeless.

"Tyke!" No one has ever been through such an amount of pain at the sight of beauty and horror, as my name tries to shape itself out of her mutilated mouth. My arms are let free, and so am I.

I keel over, choking on the blood that won't come out of my lips.

And claim the floor.

Work my eyes up Fay.

To witness one last time those freckles glowing under the dirt of her face, the curve of her nose, and the delicate bow of her lips I will always remember as such, no matter how injured it is. The brightest eyes...

My vision darkens until sight leaves me, robbing me of Fay.

I become ache, a grip of terror on my life. She was there, in front of me, not even a second ago. The realization coming from this is excruciating. I struggle not to give into faintness, begging for a breath, for one last glimpse of her.

But I grow weak…

Cries sound around me, the vampires agitated. Bones break from every corner of my ears. "My lord, have mercy!"

"Sorry, but I can't let you live. You've seen too much."

Wood shatters.

Fay's voice... I can't hear it anymore. No mutters, not even a gasp. Nothing.

Nothing.

A loud whistle shoots out into the woods.

Barks return.

Aeriojets in the distance, the thrum of their engines drawing in...

Someone spits close by... Wind crashing down on me, batting of wings...

"Thank you for finding Cerberios for me, Deon. Never thought you could be so obedient. How were the outskirts of the woods? Enchanting, I hope."

"Vym, fucked-up bastard... Don't touch her!" I recognize Deon's voice.

"She's dead or is about to be. What does it matter if I take her, gargoyle? Maybe I can even snack on this dog en route. What do you think?" Another whistle snicks the air. "Put an end to the barking, boys, and follow your mistress."

"Motherfucker!" Deon. At a time when I needed you most, you weren't there.

There's a hum. "I wouldn't worry about my dinner if I were you, but your friends drenching the moss."

A close-by breathing trebles in speed and intensifies as it blows down on me.

"Brother, stay with me." A hand presses down on my neck. "Stay with me!"

Rushes in my mind, a voice, bouncing against my skull like droplets in a cave. "While you beat your last, I'll give you closure to know she'll be safe with me."

Safe.

Without me.

I promised her I'll never set upon her.

But here's one thing.

Fay doesn't need me.

No. She doesn't.

I've thought of her as fragile. Sees herself as broken. When all she is, is a bird made of glass. Fay can shatter, and pieces of her scatter; she'll always cut through hardship. Throw her in the fire and she'll melt, harden, show just how strong she comes out of it.

And she will.

Sound changes. Touch fades. I battle to keep it, grasping needles until my fingers fold over nothing.

My will is tired, corrupted by the softening of my mind.

It's coming from the sound of home, chuckles of my little fairy rippling to my ears.

I see her.

She's running on water as her wings carry her––brave eyes made of river, her feet grazing over one, giving me a smile made of stars.

And I smile back.