3 months ago

"Whip him."

Rykea looked away as the tough, leather cord lashed out at the demon chained to the wall. She hated the method of chastisement for vampires, the dirty, bloodstained whip that cracked their skin and covered them in blood. With a new capture, it would be four days before the whip was put down and left in the chamber for its next victim. No one called them vampires; it was too crude a word to be said bluntly. The species viewed the name "vampires" as an insult. They were homo sapien salvadors, or better yet, the salvadors. Rykea had always found it ironic that the species was named "the savior" when all they did was commit bloodthirsty homicide.

It wasn't the first time Rykea had seen the new salvador. After all, she had aided in the capturing. Despite her young age, Rykea was one of the most respected members of the Alliance, often involved in the more complicated plans of the Elite group. She crossed her arms and leaned against the cold stone wall of the chambers, closing her eyes and drowning out the snapping sound of the whip. Seven years ago, there was an overwhelming number of votes against her acceptance. The Elders made an excuse out of her age and the Advisors emphasized her inexperience in the area. The only reason she was accepted was because of her father. It was her father who overstepped the Elders' excuse, saying that she would mature eventually. It was her father who came against the Advisors words and said that she would gain experience. All slayers started out young, after all.

Rykea did learn, she did grow, and everything was just the way her father had planned. It was all perfect until her father died. She did not have clear memories of what happened or what events took place that night, but she did remember waking up next to her father’s bloodied body. She remembered clearly his torn clothing and the six, small but distinct holes in his neck. At age twelve, Rykea swore to herself to crucify the salvador who had killed her father.

The months proceeding her father’s death were hectic. It also left numerous disturbing nightmares with her. Nightmares where she saw herself kneeling before her father, watching his eyes glaze over, drinking in his blood. They were horrifying dreams that no one knew about. She didn’t dare discover the reason for fear that it might connect her with her father’s death. What if she was the one who killed her father after all? What if the dreams were true? Rykea had blocked the dreams from her mind and thought about them very rarely. It was a silly thought, believing in a child’s dream. Dreams weren’t real, after all. And she didn’t kill her father. It was an absurd thought; of course she hadn’t killed her father. It wasn’t her… it wasn’t her, of course. It wasn’t, wasn’t, wasn’t- "It wasn't me!" Rykea gasped, clutching at the crevices in the stone walls, harsh breaths escaping her lips. She looked up into the curious stares of the caretakers. But it wasn't their gaze that alarmed her; rather, it was the intense look that the vampire shot her.

And then, he parted his mouth in a sly grin, stunning Rykea with the horrific words that came from his cracked lips. "You're one of us, aren't you?"

The caretakers whipped him, leaving a harsh mark slithering across his chest. "Shut your mouth!" he spat, "You have no right to talk to Mistress Rykea."

Rykea looked into his eyes and was surprised to find no trace of any pain from the last slash. "What do you mean?" She asked, swallowing her rising anxiety.

"It was you."

It was a whisper, but Rykea heard it. She couldn't stop the shudder that shook her body.

"What did you say? Speak up!" The caretakers whipped him again, taking care to hit in the same spot as the other wounds so as to cause more pain. "Well, it doesn't matter much anyway, since I already told you to shut your mouth!" He lifted the leather cord, ready to lash out again.

Rykea held up a hand, stopping the whip from hitting its desired object. "I'll handle it from here."

One by one, the caretakers released their whips and smirked at the vampire, each leaving a snide remark as they left the dungeon.

Rykea walked over to the whips and kicked them into a corner, trying to settle her nausea. "Feeling scared, little lady?"

She looked over at him and chuckled, hiding her fear. "Of what? You?"

"Of yourself," he replied smoothly.

His words wiped the smile off her face and put one on his. "Are you in so much pain that you've lost all sense?" Rykea marched up to him and leaned close to him, tilting her face up to look into his eyes. They were stormy blue orbs, his eyes, with a sharp, cold hue that sent a chill down her spine.

He ignored her mockery of a statement and asked, "What is your class?"

Rykea was taken aback by the question; she wasn't sure what he was talking about. "What class?"

She watched with much interest as a convoluted expression crossed his face. "You're one of those sapiens who are in denial of becoming a salvador, aren't you?" he paused as his cold eyes bored into hers before saying, "our souls are linked, sapien."

Rykea tore herself away from his intense gaze and glared up at him, feeling more anger than fear. "I don’t know what you're talking about," she said defiantly, "now, what's your name?"

"You've lived in denial for many years, Miss Rykea. Perhaps I could do you a favor and reawaken your salvador senses before you come to be of age." He smirked, baring his canines at her.

"You will do me no favors," she spat at him, trying to push the rest of his words into the back of her mind, "it was your kind that killed my father, and in return, I will kill your kind."

A cold chuckle came from his lips and he lifted his glance, startling Rykea with the primal look in his eyes. His irises had dilated and the previous blue had edged away, giving way to a dull silver-gray. They were a predator’s eyes and she recognized the signs almost immediately. Rykea jumped back a foot and raised her hands, the common defense spells already in mind.

She had barely cleared the way before he planted his feet on the dungeon wall and lashed out at her, dragging his weight against the iron chains and loosening the screws that held them in place. Rykea gasped in spite of herself, realizing that her view of his elongated fangs was too close a call for even a slayer like herself.

Almost immediately after the sudden attack, Kyou allowed the weight and momentum of the chains to pull him back towards the wall he was chained to. His head hung limply while his chest heaved with the effort. He did not move and did not seem to be awake, but Rykea knew better. His energy was spent, but he was still aware. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and discreetly shot a spell at the loosened screws, sliding them back and securing the chains once again. She had never witnessed such strength. The chains were given a fresh coat of spells each month, ensuring their security and strength. She never thought that a salvador would be capable of breaking, or even weakening a human spell. It had never happened before.

Rykea shivered as the coldness of the dungeons finally settled in her bones. If she hadn’t stepped back in time… Rykea turned her head and calmed herself. "Tell me your name," she whispered, but the vibration echoed off the stone walls and pierced the silence, making it louder than she expected.

"Kyou," he murmured, unmoving.

"Kyou…" she tested the name on her tongue, basking in delight at the way it rolled off her tongue. "You're going to be whipped for three more days, and then left to die." She wasn't sure why she had just explained his fate; it was the first time she had said such a thing. Hearing no reply, she sighed and walked out of the room, thinking about the day's events.

---

Kyou became aware of the pain as soon as silence once again settled in the dungeons. He distantly wondered why he had not felt pain when the whips were hitting his body. Perhaps he had numbed over, but he didn’t quite remember feeling pain in the first place. Kyou wasn't stupid, he knew that he was capable of instant healing-that is-to a certain extent. Because of the advantageous trait, he had never really encountered pain for a prolonged period of time. salvadors were natural predators; they fed on blood, which supplied the body of all the nutrients it needed to produce enough energy. Oxygen was simply a waste of time.

Salvador blood was different from sapien blood; the plasma in a salvador's bloodstream contains several key cells capable of using produced energy to seal the wound and stop much blood from flowing out of the body. Kyou could feel the shallow cuts closing, but it took all he had to not scream out at the frequent throbbing of the deeper wounds. Deep wounds took longer to heal; as more blood dripped from his wounds, less blood was available to restore his skin to the way it was. And without food, there was no way for him to keep up with his body. Kyou silently praised the sapiens for their excellent research and observations. It was impossible for an active salvador to not feed for more than three days and live to tell about it. It had only been a few hours since his capture, but he was already starting to feel dizzy.

Kyou knew he wasn't going to last much longer, especially with the soon-to-come daily lashings the girl had told him about. Since he was supposed to be left to die, he was pretty sure no one was going to bring him food. The two species hated and feared each other, after all. It had only been two decades ago when salvadors wandered freely into and out of the domains of the sapiens. Now, many avoided them in fear of being captured. Kyou didn't agree. He was never one to back out from a challenge, and he was just now starting to regret it. Why hadn't he turned to feeding on deer and rabbits in the forest like many others? It was a question that had been nagging him since he was caught.

In truth, he had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. True, he just had a meal, but he had not killed the sapien. He had drunk enough to satisfy his thirst, but left enough for the man to recover. But of course, to sapiens, that didn't matter. All they needed was an unconscious man on the dusty ground, drained of blood, and a fully fledged salvador with blood dripping out of the corners of his mouth to convince them. Kyou made the mistake by staying to fight, determined to stand his ground until he had nothing else to stand on. They took him down in a flash.

Kyou grimaced at the memory. He still couldn't believe he had thought he could overcome ten members of the Alliance by himself, especially since they had been fully armed with weapons. There was a time when salvadors would've laughed at the thought of sapiens defeating them with weapons. Since the last couple of decades, the joke had taken a serious downfall. When the sapiens' rebellion first started, a priestess from a different land had been passing by and had taught many members of the Alliance charms and hexes to cast on ordinary weapons. They were specially invented and designed to defeat the salvador species. Since then, salvador population had decreased a good amount.

From what he could tell, unless salvadors came up with a new plan, they would slowly, but surely, go extinct. The sapiens just had too many tricks up their sleeves. Kyou knew that the salvador Council had been brainstorming night and day to find a way out of the situation. They had even sent a few of their own to negotiate with the Alliance. All they got was a return letter saying that the Alliance refused to fall for their trickery and that they had already slain the people Council sent. The news enraged many salvadors and threw the entire species into turmoil. Council barely had time to leave their assurances before a few fights had broken out. It was a short battle, with decent numbers of casualties on both sides. When news of the casualties reached home, things settled down some and remained that way for awhile. Neither side wished to lose anymore.

Kyou thought back to his unplanned decision of attack. He had hoped to scare the girl into running away, or perhaps even inflict some harm on her to get rid of her ridiculous attitude. However, she had simply taken a step back and asked him for his name. He laughed bitterly, his voice a discordant chord to his ears. The girl had intrigued him; she had boldly stood up to him with defiance behind her eyes. She was shaken, he knew, but it was as if she had no fear. At least, not of him. It was one of the reasons Kyou mentioned that their souls were linked. It was true, after all. Their souls were linked. He could feel it. He briefly wondered why before the thought was pushed away and replaced with ideas of possible escape. It seemed impossible now.

Kyou closed his eyes and emptied his brain, trying to settle his agitation. The main problem was how he was to get out of his restraints, especially with him as weak as he was now. He looked up at the rusty metal rings that cut into his wrists and tried twisting his hand. The metal chains strung above rattled and he winced at the sound. The metal ring embedded itself in his flesh and he quickly twisted the other way, relieving the grip it had on his wrist. There was now a distinct mark on his pale skin and he sighed, leaving his hand to dangle as freely as they could. He knew it was no use wasting his energy trying to escape his imprisonment; he had never been prepared for this kind of situation. He had never thought he would be caught.

Kyou took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain that racked his body whenever he moved. It would all be over soon, and he doubted that Council would risk their necks trying to rescue him. As he drifted into a deep sleep, he didn't notice the dungeon door ease open, nor did he see the young girl slipping back inside.

← Prologue || Two →