NIGHTWORLD

25: Nothing to Forgive

Jaro leaned over the precipice, the breeze tugging at his fur as he stared down into the pit. Old wood creaked beneath his boots, half-rotten through, half frozen solid. No telling what the ledge was even supposed to be for, every other part of it had crumbled away long ago. Jaro didn't have much faith in the withered structure, but it didn't need to hold him for long. 

Zakhar's herald made this sound easy. 

Jaro hopped off the ledge, coat tails flapping in the chill air as he plummeted deeper into the mineshaft. His arms went up as he shot through a narrow gash in the rock, ephemeral wings bursting from his shoulders as he reached the cavern below, wind blowing out beneath his boots as he slowed to a landing. 

Rising from his crouch, Jaro studied the dark. Shadows clung to dust and cobwebs of the cavern – there was no doubt the rest of the team would be completely blind down here. The air stunk of something sour, and Jaro didn't need to look far to see the scattered bones of fallen animals.

This was the hidden backdoor into Dracula's castle, after all, it seemed only fitting it was adorned with yet more death. 

At least it's empty, Jaro thought, wandering deeper into the mine. Signs written in old Wallachian were plastered across the walls, shuddering structural reinforcements holding open tight passageways. It wasn't going to be a fun or particularly safe journey through, but from what Jaro could see it was at least relatively intact. Has Zakhar been maintaining it? He brushed fingers against the web-riddled wooden struts. This must be centuries old, something kept it from crumbling into nothing. It was surprisingly dry in the mine, at least, so that probably helped.

Despite the relatively safety of the passage, along with Zakhar's claims it remained open, Jaro couldn't help imagining the whole thing coming down on top of them. It would be almost funny, surviving all the turmoil of Nightworld thus far, killing three immortal vampire lords, just to be squished under some old rocks. 

Alone in the darkness, Jaro giggled, the little sounds bouncing off the jagged edges of the space. When he was younger, this kind of place would have terrified him, the way his father's basement had. His mind would have felt invisible enemies creeping around, watching, waiting. The darkness was once oppressive, like a great mouth of uncertainty rising to swallow him whole. Now, oddly enough, Jaro felt at peace. The isolation was nice, as if he were severed from the real world, and all the troubles that came along with it. 

I'm a different person now, he realised. Whether you like it or not, the things that happened have changed you. And there is no going back to how it was before. He raised his paw, staring at the dusty-grey fur on his fingers. It seemed more angular now, sharper. A killing extremity. There was no other way to consider it, he was a different person now.

Who am I now? Maybe he'd know when Dracula was dead. 

Jaro was shaken back to reality as a sound came echoing down the shaft. An Australian-twanged cry of “Oi! Oi! MATE!" Boots crunching on gravel, Jaro marched back to the slit he'd dropped through, peering back up into the night. His newfound sight seemed to be able to look on forever, and he saw the rocks he'd fallen by, the cliff-face he'd clambered down, and above that all the gnarled trees and cloudy midnight sky. 

Frankie's voice was faint, but Jaro's ears pricked, managing to catch the words. “Coming… Back… Soon… Mate?"

He gave a quick look back to the mine. The way was clear, or clear enough to get started anyway. A thrill rushed through him – finally they had a chance to be the one taking initiative. They would take Dracula by surprise, and this time he would be on the back foot. See how they like being the prey for once. 

Dropping into a deep crouch, Jaro leapt up with all his might, paw reaching out to snag the edge of the cut, hauling himself up and through onto the rocks. 

The climb back up was a little slower than his descent, but eventually he made it back to the surface and the team's little makeshift camp. Frankie offered him a paw as he rose, and Jaro took it, letting the dingo haul him to his feet. 

“What's the go, hey?" She asked, leaning over the lip. “Can't see jack shit down there, can ya?" 

“Uh…" Jaro glanced back, clearly able to define every edge and edifice, automatically feeling an innate sense of how to move from one point to the next. “Yeah, guess not." 

He stepped away from the edge, Frankie following close as he briefed her. “It looks relatively safe, as Zakhar promised. I don't know what we'll find deeper in, but I think it's doable, for sure. Maintenance work has been done over the years, because there are struts keeping everything up. I'm pretty sure if we're careful, we can get through without the whole mountain coming down on us." 

“Be just our luck though, wouldn't it?" Frankie shifted uneasily, side-eying the mountain behind them. It stretched up in what felt like every direction, scraping the ceiling of the world, the peak vanishing into the cloud cover. The Godhead's Lament waited on the other side, built into the rock wall, filled with blood and suffering and sin. Jaro could feel it. Weighing on him. Worse than that, he felt it weighing on her. Frankie's surface thoughts were a jumbled mess, anxiety spiking loud enough that Jaro had to make a concentrated effort not to eavesdrop. It felt wrong, and he still had yet to tell any of them it was something he could do. Better they think their thoughts are still private. 

“My Dad worked in the mines, you know," Frankie said after a moment. “Pretty much every cunt and his mum did in Kalgoorlie. Made me an' my sister swear we'd never go down there. Saw a few of his mates injured. Said people get weird underground. He was a right tosser really, but there was always some wisdom in that, I reckoned." 

Jaro nodded. He'd felt it too. Something about all that earth pressing on you.

“But we're on a vampire hunt, and it's too late to go round it," Frankie said, blowing air from her cheeks. “Can't go over it. Have to go through it. Fuck me, right?"

“Yeah, exactly," Jaro said. “I'm gonna check with Kadir, but I think we should get down there sooner rather than later. The longer we wait, the longer Dracula has to decide he's tired of being patient, and go through The Source again." 

“Too right. I'll get the others prepped with the rope, start making a game plan of what we take and what we leave." 

Jaro nodded, leaving Frankie to it. It occurred to him how much of this mission was a gamble. They hoped that Dracula hadn't gone through the Source yet, and they hoped he didn't know about the mine… but they were big ifs. Maybe the Vampire Emperor had gone through the portal already, maybe at this very minute Europe was bleeding a new kind of nightmare. Maybe the tunnels under the mountain would be packed full of thralls, waiting to ambush them again. 

Jaro pushed the thoughts from his mind. They'd chosen a plan, no point worrying about fringe cases now. 

Kadir was over by the three wagons they'd travelled from Orobos in. They were relatively spartan, but compared to how the team had spent most of their time in Nightworld, it had been like travelling in the height of luxury. Jaro had almost been disappointed he could hardly feel the cold anymore, as the inside of each carriage had looked so cosy and warm next to the ice outside. For the others it was a lovely space to bunk in when they were tired, but for him it was more like a little prison, locking him away during the sunlight hours of the day. That was his new reality. Unless the cloud cover was exceptionally thick, the daylight was forever lost. The newfound strength and ability of his vampire form was useful, Jaro couldn't deny it… but after this was over, what kind of life awaited him? 

Ioana and Frankie had lined the wagons up in a little semi-circle, creating a small buffer against the mountain wind.

Jaro found Kadir stood cross-armed in front of the three horses. Their reins had been slashed, and now sat in the mud at their hooves. Obviously the caracal had cut them free, and the feral horses looked oddly naked without the getups.  

“Look, I'm not gonna say it again," Kadir growled, oblivious to Jaro's approach. “Your work is done here, alright? So just get, go!" He flicked his wrist, making a shoo gesture. One of the horses whinnied softly, but otherwise made no motion to start walking. “Stupid idiots," the caracal growled. “Trying to help you." 

 “What comes next for you, yelling at the rocks for being too lazy?" Jaro asked. Kadir flinched, turning back towards him with a scowl. 

“You're fucking creepy when you do that." 

“Sorry." Jaro shrugged. “Just let them be, they'll make their way off into the wild when we leave." 

“Yeah, it's just…" Kadir sighed. 

“What?" 

“It… it doesn't feel right. They didn't sign up to come this far. We're miles from anything they know."

Jaro couldn't help the small laugh that slipped from his lips. “I'm sorry, sorry, I just… didn't expect that from you." 

“I'm not made of fucking stone, Jaro." 

Jaro felt his tail wag behind him. He reached up, laying a paw softly on Kadir's back. “It's alright. They'll find their way." 

“Yeah. I know." He gave the horses one more rueful look. “You can't make me feel guilty, you stupid bastards." 

Jaro lightly tugged him towards the last of the coaches, sliding out a tray of supplies kept in the cargo hold. “Have you taken inventory of what we've even got here? The way down into the passage is… pretty steep. I don't think it can all come." 

“I had a quick look," Kadir replied, shifting some rollmats aside. Jaro saw a big tangled mess of metal spikes and rope. “Think there's more than enough here to scale a small mountain, let alone a tiny mineshaft."

“Have you ever scaled a small mountain?" 

The caracal rubbed at his chin. “Not exactly, but I can't imagine it's that hard to climb down a rope." He caught Jaro's stare. “Alright, fine, tell you what… I'll let Devna coordinate that part." 

Jaro scoffed, picking up a bundle of ropes and making for the mineshaft entrance. “Do you think she's good at mountaineering, just because she's from Nepal?" 

“Just carry your shit." 

Devna in fact was very good at mountaineering. Kadir looked on smugly as the snow leopard marksman coordinated the descent effort, showing each of them how to safely repel down the sharp face of the rocks. 

“I guess you think that's funny," Jaro said, sneering. He was so used to Kadir grunting and growling all the time that jokes felt wrong coming out of the caracal's mouth. Guess he finally trusts me enough to be himself. 

“When Devna and I first met," Kadir explained, tugging on the rope and finding it steadfast. “We hunted a vampire through the mountains of China."

“She… did tell me that."

“Yeah. To be fair, I assumed back then as well." Laughing, Kadir slapped him on the back, turning to face his rear towards the shaft as he slowly lowered himself down. 

The team's descent into the wound of the earth was far slower than Jaro's had been, and he found himself struggling to be patient. In an effort to help appear more normal, Jaro chose to lower himself via the ropes as well, but with his strength and vampiric endurance, he had to deliberately slow down so as not to bump into the others carefully inching themselves down beneath him. Kadir hit the ground first, cracking open a flare to help light the way. With only one arm Ioana was the slowest, and she still needed help from Kristian to lower herself down safely.

Devna was the last to reach the bottom, lowering bundled packs of rations and spare ammunition before herself. There were only so many supplies they could take on foot, but nobody wanted to be caught in Dracula's castle without enough bullets. 

Jaro found the cave less tranquil with everyone inside, and couldn't help himself from anxiously watching the stone over their heads. One collapse. One little shudder, and they'd be crushed, or trapped.

What would happen to me if I was pinned? As strong as he was, even Jaro wouldn't be able to lift the better part of a mountain off himself. Would he end up like De Vaune, in the manor outside Orobos? Rotting away, so long spent unable to die? I can't die easy. But that isn't always a good thing. 

Leaving the red haze behind, the team switched to their flashlights, cautiously pushing deeper into the cavern. It was slow going at first, as Devna and Frankie gently tested each new passageway, gingerly crossing the tight gravel and checking the support struts. 

“We are lucky this place is not too damp," Devna commented, flicking one of the supports. “Otherwise this would have rotted away long ago." 

“Zakhar must have been maintaining it," Kadir replied. “You tell me, ever see wooden structures survive hundreds of years on their own?" 

“I suppose not," Devna muttered. “Makes you wonder, how long was he planning this assault?" 

The tunnels spiralled out in all manner of directions, thin slices and openings in the rock leading to other passageways. Kadir and Frankie argued quietly over a crude map, careful to always choose the most structurally sound of the provided options. Jaro caught himself peering into the gaps, wondering just how far into the earth they reached, the sounds of faintly dripping water and squeaking bats echoing up through the stone. Nightworld was a place filled with the unnatural; he knew there was more out there than just vampires. Thralls, selkies, basilisk. How much of that stuff climbed out of hell by way of these caverns? 

Gradually the team's pace increased as the group found a steady rhythm to moving forward, their confidence in the path growing the further they travelled. It was still slow, there was no need to rush, but it was a step up from agonisingly cautious. 

“Feels almost wrong to speak down here," Kristian whispered, sidling up next to Jaro. 

“I know what you mean. Like being in Church." 

“Do you… truly need that?" The marten jerked his chin at the flashlight in Jaro's paw. It was only half aimed forward, illuminating more of his own feet than anything up ahead. 

He half considered lying, then shrugged. “No. Trying to look more normal."

“It's appreciated," Kristian replied. “I am very curious about these extra senses. I try to envision what it is like to perceive things the way you do, but it's much like trying to imagine a colour you've never seen."

“I promise, when we're done with all this you can study me to your heart's content." 

The marten grinned. “Oh, I would enjoy nothing more."

The group came to a stop in the dark, each one of them sensing something different in the air. The sound of silence stretched around them, but it was broader now, more open. 

“What is it?" Ioana asked, glancing back. 

“You don't see it?" Devna said, shining her torchlight along the ground. Jaro watched as the bright circle traced over gravel, rock, and then old wood. Finally it tipped a bit further, out into sheer nothing. Blinking, he stared, confused, before realising that even with his vampire night vision – he'd missed it. 

Team Two stood on the edge of a gargantuan cavern. It was wide and expansive, deep enough none of them could see the bottom. A rickety old bridge of several layers reached across the divide, abandoned mine carts resting on rusted tracks, piles of loose debris and rotten tools discarded throughout. Bat droppings caked the surface, the flocks overhead squeaking and shuffling in their perch.

Kadir cracked another flare, leaning out and tossing it over the edge. 

He peered over after it, a long red flicker descending into oblivion. “One… Two…. Three… Four…." He was on the cusp of saying five when the flare smacked into the ground with a muted bang, bouncing on the stone as it rolled to a stop. Even to Jaro the light was faint – to the others it must have been practically invisible. 

“These are heavy shadows," Ioana muttered, waving her paw through the air. “Like a blanket, clinging to me." She spat onto the rocks. “I do not like this place."

“Huh?" Frankie asked, glancing at Kristian. 

The marten shrugged. “She said she doesn't like it."

“Yeah no shit, too right we don't like it. A centuries old bridge? I say we go around."

“There's no other way," Kadir grunted, sneering at it. “I think it should take our weight, look." He shone his torchlight further along the old wood. Jaro figured it might once have been a light greenish colour, but the paint had faded and flaked away long ago. Metal glimmered in the distance as Kadir's torch hit an old overturned minecart. “There's a lot of weight held up already. If it hasn't fallen already, might be safe."

Frankie scoffed. “That's a pretty fat if you're throwing around there, Mister Durmaz. I dunno about you, but dying at the bottom of a dark pit was not on my to-do list. There were a dozen off-shoots before this, you really telling me none of them lead around?"

“That could take hours," Kadir grunted. He shoved his foot down on the first bit of the bridge. “See? Solid." 

“Fuck that," Frankie replied. “Better to arrive late than dead, mate. Jaro?" 

The wolf eyed the bridge. “I mean, it looks stable enough, but there's no telling what the other side is like. Could be one knock away from collapsing."

“You see?" Frankie asked. 

“This isn't a vote," Kadir huffed. 

The dingo pointed out into the dark. “Say whatever lines you like Kadir, that is a fucking deathtrap, and I say we go around."

“I am not sure we have much of a choice," Devna added quietly. The others turned to look at her. The snow leopard shouldered her rifle, aiming her own torch down at the bridge. “Zakhar's herald is travelling around the other side of the mountain, no? If he has not received word from us on time, he will release the Homunculus and pray for the best. If we aren't inside the castle by then, we won't be able to capitalise on the distraction."

“She's right," Kadir said, checking his watch. “We can't afford to let that opportunity slip through our fingers. We have one shot at this, one. We can't stab Dracula in the back unless he's looking the other way."

“I…" Frankie groaned, kicking a rock and sending it careening off into the dark. They didn't even hear it hit the ground. “Damn it." 

“We will go carefully," Kristian said. “And Jaro will go out on point." 

The wolf blinked in surprise. “I will?" 

“You have wings, don't you?" 

“Oh," his face flushed, he'd almost forgotten. “Right. I guess, yeah." 

“If it makes you feel any better," Kadir added. “I don't like it anymore than you do. But it's this, or give up our chance to surprise him. There's no other way."

“I know, I know," Frankie sighed. “I just have a bad feeling."

“I'm used to that by now." 

They moved themselves into a line formation, with Jaro at the front. Kadir gave the signal to move forward, and – gingerly – Jaro stepped out onto the wood, testing each footstep with his toe. The surface was softer than he'd like, but the bridge seemed to hold. Still, they needed to get everyone on before they could even think about relaxing.

One by one, Team Two shuffled onto the bridge, the entire group pausing as the next put their weight onto the old wood, hoping the entire thing didn't crumble beneath them. Kristian suggested going over one at a time, but nobody liked the idea of being alone in the dark. 

“Watch out for the cart tracks," Jaro said, pointing at the floor. Rusted tracks criss-crossed over one another, ancient pathways for mining rubble and whatever else this structure was used for. “Looks like it's holding, right?" He asked, as Devna finally put her full weight onto the bridge at their rear. 

“For now," Frankie said. “Let's just get this bloody over with." 

Following Jaro and Kadir's lead, the team began to move forward. Slow at first, then gradually picking up speed. To their relief, the bridge remained in relatively good condition even towards the middle. Some planks and guard rails on the edge had fallen away, but the centre remained almost whole as they moved, except for the layers of bat guano and cave moss growing overtop. It creaked and shuddered beneath them, each little scrape giving the group pause, but eventually they faded into the background, becoming just another cave noise. 

“Look! There are multiple levels," Kristian called, when they'd reached the halfway point. He aimed his torch down between a railed gap in the wood, highlighting another floor. Jaro spied rows of rusted tables, nestled amongst piles of mangled skeletons. “This was used for more than just a bridge, there are rooms down there."

“It must have been used as a base of operations during the mining phase for the Godhead's Lament," Jaro said. He watched the bones, cold and clean, all signs of flesh long rotted away. Slaves, or food? 

“I do not like this place," Ioana said, as the bridge creaked loudly beneath her. 

Pinpricks danced down Jaro's spine as he heard a series of unnerving clicks go off beneath them, dust settling as old wood groaned and flexed. 

“Did you hear that?" Frankie asked, whirling on the spot, her shotgun raised. “Something's creeping around." 

“It's the bats," Kadir said.

Jaro's own ear pricked up, and he turned in place. “It's not the bats." Something was moving. Nails clutching against porous wood, flakes of old paint falling away. The faint rasp of a contemplative predator.

“Keep moving." Kadir grunted as a skull turned to dust beneath his boot. “I don't like this bridge." 

Jaro tried to ignore the team's thoughts, but bunched up as they were, it was next to impossible. Nervousness tugged at each of them. Kristian was mostly curious, imagining packs of thralls dragging stone to and fro. Ioana saw monsters beneath them, creatures slithering in the darkness. Frankie imagined the whole bridge dropping them into the dark. The fear heightened the surface thoughts, making them seem louder to Jaro's extra senses. 

Wood creaked all around them, faint echoing drips of water creating a quiet rhythm to the space. The weight of eyes rested on them from the open air, and even looking out into the empty space, Jaro realised he couldn't see the walls of the cave. Just how far does this go on? 

The thoughts all stopped as something clicked behind them.

“Alright what the fuck?" Frankie hissed, whirling in place. Jaro spun with her, but the darkness was empty. 

“Our mind is playing tricks on us," Kristian said. “This space is too large, there's no sound down here, except for the bats." As if to highlight his point, something above them squeaked. 

“I know what I heard, Doctor," Frankie whispered. 

“What is she saying?" Ioana muttered, and Kristian quietly translated. The old fox nodded. “I agree with her. There is something on this bridge with us. And look…" she pointed down at the sloped tracks, leading up from different levels on the bridge. “Do you see any mining supplies here?" 

“I…" Kristian hesitated. “No. The bridge must have been repurposed at some point, but for what?" The marten stopped, bending down to pick up something shiny. When he stood, Jaro saw it was some kind of metal valve, spikes poking out of one side. “It's rusted but…" 

“Smells like blood," Jaro said, the unmistakable tang hitting his nose. It was old and stale, but definitely once there. He saw a glimmer from Kristian's thoughts; mounds of flesh, punctured through with the device. 

“This went inside someone. Into an organ perhaps."

“Why?" 

Ioana sniffed. “There is more going on here than we realise." 

Beneath them, something chittered. The team braced, flashlights panning everywhere. 

“That was definitely something!" Frankie snapped. 

“I heard it too," Kadir agreed, glancing towards the edge of the bridge. “What the fuck is he keeping down here?"

Jaro stepped back, ears up as he listened intently. He could hear it now, just beneath the mutter of bats and the creaking of wood. Claws. Nails. Something sticking into the wood, ripping chunks of it, drooling wet as it shuffled underneath. A furless belly slithering along the underside of their path. 

“Where is it?" Devna asked, sweeping her rifle across the empty space. “What is it? Another vampire?" 

“It doesn't feel like that," Jaro muttered, pushing his thoughts outward. “This feels… different."

“Are you absolutely certain it's real?" Kristian asked. 

“I'm gonna look." 

Kadir shouted at him, too late. “Jaro, don't!"

Jaro had already hopped one of the rails, dropping onto the deck below and falling into a crouch. Without the extra torchlight distracting him it was actually easier to see in the darkness.

“Son of a bitch!" Kadir called from up above. “We don't know how sound this thing is!" A groan sounded deep below them, underlining his point. 

“I'm just gonna look," Jaro replied. He'd had enough of being hunted.

The second layer was far more cramped than the top, with dozens of walkways zig-zagging between the bridge's scaffold-like struts. Carts crammed the tracks down here, some of them overturned with yet more dust and bones spilling out. Bodies filled these carts, not rocks. More evidence – this bridge was once built to help carve out this cave, but at some point in time it had become something else entirely. A dumping ground. But for what? 

Inching deeper into the underway, Jaro felt slickness beneath his boots. Looking down at a red smear, he realised it was a bat, torn to pieces.

“Whaddya see? Talk to me!" Frankie called down at him, to a small chorus of hushes. “Just watch your arse mate, and ya feet."

“Seems clear so far," Jaro called back. He had to pick his steps more carefully down here, some of the planks were missing, and others were clearly too rotten to take his weight. Regardless, he continued to creep forward, claws open and ready, eyes peeled and watching the shadows. The hackles on his neck tingled, his tail curling instinctually inwards. The newly-grown fangs ached dully in his mouth. Every instinct screamed at him that this was dangerous. That something was watching him from the darkness.

“That's it, I'm bloody goin' down there!" Frankie huffed. Jaro spun again, feeling the unsettling certainty of something creeping around him. He could smell it too, like a sickness circling the group. 

“Stay where you are!" Jaro called back. He had a bad feeling, a sense of things rising in his gut. 

“Frankie, stop, just stay, we need to stay as a group!" Kadir snapped. There was a crack as a piece of wood snapped beneath his boot, the caracal quickly steadying himself. “Fucking bridge! Damn it, Frankie, it isn't clear!"

“He ain't invincible Kadir." Jaro heard another faded groan echo deeper in the cave. He glanced back up towards the others right as Frankie leaned over the railing, eyes peeled for a way down. “I ain't lettin' him go off alone."

Through the dark, Jaro and Frankie's eyes met. The dingo grinned. “How the bloody hell do I get down to you mate?"

It was a pointless question. The creature chose that moment to unfold from the roof of the underway like it was spring-loaded. Long claws on the end of furless arms reached up overhead, stabbing into the dingo's stomach as she was ripped forward. Metal railings burst away as it dragged her down with a grating snarl, the others crying out.

Jaro lunged forward. The monster slammed Frankie into the ground with a smash, snarling and snapping its mandibles. It moved as a blur, a bundle of lanky emaciated limbs and over-knuckled joints. There was blood in the air, Frankie screaming as the thing tore at her. Jaro caught sight of double-elbows, pointed shoulder blades extruding high from its back, and wide bulbous red eyes. Disgusting even by vampire standards – a monster's monster.   

For a moment, Jaro was frozen in place. Seeing the thing that attacked Frankie transported him back to the barn in Hungary, to that first vampire standing over his father's body. Furless and sick, just like this one, albeit slightly less distorted. That time had ended with his father critical, and himself infected with a vampire parasite. 

Not again. 

Above them the rest of the team scattered, flares popping as they tried to find an angle on the creature. As for the monster, it swayed back into the dark. Jaro skipped forward, flicking his wrist out to deploy the blades to Frankie's weapon mounted on his arm. 

“Get away from her, you bitch," he growled. 

The thing clicked again, eyeing the silver blades. It roared once, before promptly retreating off Frankie's body and squeezing itself through an impossibly narrow crack,  vanishing from sight.

“Talk to me!" Someone above cried, maybe Kadir. “Hell is happening down there?!"

“Get to the ladder!"

“Weapons up!" 

Jaro heard a scream and the flexing of metal, the creature exploding out the side of the woodwork, splinters spraying outwards. I have to save them. His mind was filled with images of them all dying. Gutted like fish here in the dark under Dracula's mountain. 

On top of his own fears, the panic and terror of his friends bled psychically into his awareness, clouding his judgement and settling a fog over his thoughts. No. Not like this. 

The monster had dragged Kristian down too, backing the marten into a corner. The doctor raised his handgun, unloading half a clip into the monster's face, it only screeched back at him. Jaro launched himself over a fallen minecart, teeth bared as he punched forward, the silver blades of his weapon sinking deep into the furless, tumour-ridden back with a wet shunk. 

Steam and ichor burst from the wound as the monster howled a deep chthonic moan. Jaro tried to grab hold of it to finish it off, but the thing was like liquid, each joint flexing in almost any direction it needed, dislocating and relocating in sequence as it slipped through his fingers.

“No, no!" He cried, as it threw itself off the edge of the bridge, one claw extended to swing out beneath the ancient structure. He dropped to a crouch, squeezing Kristian's shoulder. “Are you alright? Kristian!" 

“Fine, I'm fine!" He called back, patting his front down for wounds and finding none. “Where'd it go?" 

“I'm not sure. But I'll find it." Jaro turned back, returning to the centre of the underway. Unlike the top of the bridge, this level was segmented into many smaller rooms and sections. All of it was filled with clutter, tools and carts and rusted benches. He could hear most of Team Two scattered throughout the mess, and beneath all that – the monster prowled. 

Moving gently, Jaro kept his eyes on the ground, ears pricked for any creak of wood. Another ambush predator. He kept his thoughts wide open, hoping to pick up some kind of impression from the thing… but nothing came. It's a mindless slave. Like the thralls but far stronger. What are you? 

No time to wonder now. Kadir stood over Frankie with his gun raised while Kristian tried to examine her wounds. Devna had fallen back into the dark, rifle panning through the shadows. Ioana sidled up to Jaro, handgun raised in her single paw. 

“Did you get a look? What is it, another vampire?" she muttered. 

Jaro narrowed his eyes. “I don't know, it feels… unnatural." 

Looking further around, all he saw were weaknesses. Every member of Team Two had saved his life at least once now. They were like family, and each one was a target. A weak point. Jaro felt himself paralysed by indecision. The monster could be anywhere around them, but he had to choose… which one would he save? 

“I can hear it," Ioana hissed. “Clicking in the dark. It is mocking us." 

“I'm trying, I'm trying," Jaro snapped. His thoughts were so loud. Hard to tell what was real, and what was from the others jumping at shadows. 

Where is it? Where is it? He slipped forward through the darkness. The monster seemed everywhere. Something cracked behind him, he whirled in place as Ioana fired three shots into the ground, but the thing had already vanished. 

“Jaro!" Kristian cried, he was knelt by Frankie, covered up to his elbows in gore. “She's dying!" 

Hurry up. Jaro didn't know what to do. All his newfound strength and it wasn't enough. What good is it being a monster if I can't save the people I love? He was going to let them down. He could feel it creeping in now, the certainty of failure. Just like with Boz. Just like Cujac. Just like his father. You can't save anyone. All you can do is kill. 

He closed his eyes. Shut out the whispers. Shut out Frankie's pained coughs. Listened only for that thing in the woodwork. It's there. It's waiting, excited by the thought of eating something bigger than a bat.

There was a click, slow and singular. A slight drip of saliva, a gnashing of teeth. The joints popping as they rolled within dry sockets, ligaments stretching around the bone. It wanted them dead, it was a thing filled with nothing but hunger and hatred. Jaro could feel it. Any minute now it would reappear, breaching through like a shark to end them. You can't resist, can you? 

Suddenly, he felt like he understood it. 

There was another growl and Jaro lunged. He dove forward, refusing to wait until they were attacked again. He slammed his fist into the wood, punching through the debris and closing his fingers around the monster's throat. It wailed as he dragged it back up, claws lashing out at him, jagged shards of broken timber slicing the things furless skin to pieces. Jaro hurled it overhead and brought it back down hard, the creature's spine shattering over a protruding mine track rail. 

With a proper look at it now, Jaro realised how truly horrifying it was. The eyes were too big for the skull, weepy fluid running permanently down its face. The teeth within the jaw were a mangled mess, meat hardly clinging to the body, bones stretching through the beige dry skin. Maybe once it was some kind of feline, but except for the ears it was impossible to tell, the extra elbows and knees, the sunken shoulder joints, and compressed rib-cage made it difficult to make out any individual part. Sores and pustules weaved a mosaic of infection over every inch of naked skin. 

No doubt this thing's entire life had been spent in agony. Jaro was glad to end it. “What… are you?" 

It sprayed spittle as it roared back at him, but only for a second. Jaro's blades quickly silenced it, as they punched through its chest, skewering the heart. 

He brought his arm back, retracting the blades on Frankie's weapon as the monster curled up like a dead spider, steam seeping from the wound as it turned to ash. A vampire then, at least it was once. Hard to believe things could get worse. 

“Frankie, fucking stay with me already!" 

Jaro whirled to the others, all gathered around the dingo. Someone had popped a flare, bathing the underway in a humming red light. 

Pushing through them, Jaro dropped to his knees by Frankie's side. She was propped up in Kadir's arms, her own pressed tight against her abdomen. Flesh was torn, Jaro could smell blood. Her eyes stared distantly. 

“I… I…" She was hyperventilating, and trembling. 

“No," Jaro growled. “No, no no no no NO!" He shoved Kadir aside, prying Frankie's arms off to examine her wound. He could feel her thoughts pressing on his own. Afraid. Seeing visions of her own death. (All this way just to die from some stupid sick cunt did I deserve that how bad is it really could have been worse) 

“You're not gonna die here," Jaro promised. But he wasn't so sure. Her stomach was punctured, the claws had gone deep – into the organs inside. 

“What can you do?" Kristian whispered. Jaro only shook his head. Frankie needed surgery. Without that she'd bleed out, no field medicine in the world could work fast or precisely enough to stabilise her for more than a few hours.

“Could we get her to The Source?" He asked, glancing across. “She needs surgery, there's internal trauma."

The marten didn't react, but his face said it all. Stupid idea. Carrying a near-dead person across no man's land right into the heart of Dracula's trap? Might as well give up now. 

“Jaro…" Kristian insisted. 

“I don't know. I don't know." 

“You're the fucking medic, man," Kadir snarled. “Do something!" 

“There's nothing I can do!" 

Below, Frankie's paw curled around his wrist. She smiled, blood already drying on her chin. She's going. Her eyes stared past Jaro, body slackening. 

“No!" He cried, tears welling in his eyes. Kadir and Kristian were his love, but Frankie was his best friend. She understood him in a way the others didn't. Emptiness spread through him as he watched her slip away. “Frankie please, I can't do this without you." 

“Jaroslav…" Ioana laid her paw gently on his shoulder.

“What a good ally you were, Francesca," Devna whispered. 

Kill Dracula, then go someplace warm. That was her plan. Jaro glanced up, into the darkness above. To die down here, in the cold lightless depths of the mountain, seemed almost an insult to that. 

You let another one down. His grip slackened, numbness blooming in his chest, growing like a weed through his body. Your life is a circle, Jaroslav. No matter how hard you try, eventually you will fail. 

“I… I…" Frankie spat more blood, breaths slowing as she died. (you can kill him for me kill him for me don't let them win)

“Please, hold on," Jaro whispered. “And we'll stop them together." 

“There's nothing we can do, Jaro," Kristian said, softly. Jaro licked his lips, checking her wounds again. Already she'd lost so much blood. That fucking thing. Why could they never catch a God damned break?! Everything they'd given up just to die now? He blinked as more tears fell, landing on her soaked coat. 

“Got me good, struth…" She gasped, a grin spreading over her face. Somehow that only made it harder, the loss stabbing through Jaro's chest. Kadir had one paw on her, and one on him. 

Frankie was dying. There was nothing he could do.

No. That wasn't true.

Jaro's eyes darted to her wounds. Severe. But no worse than his own back in Hungary. His mouth salivated, a pressure rising in his throat as the thought built momentum. 

“Frankie," he whispered. “I hope you'll forgive me." 

“Jaro," Kadir said. “She knew the risks. There's nothing to forgive."

Jaro leaned down. Every vampire has one parasite of their own. A new seed to share. His muzzle was inches from hers, the dingo's eyes wide and afraid. He could save her life, but only by making her a monster.

Jaro tensed, closing his eyes as he leaned in. 

“That's where you're wrong."