The golden shimmer of Albus's protective barrier rippled like liquid sunlight, humming softly as it stretched across the forest clearing surrounding his home. For hours, it had been the only thing keeping the tide of vampires from crashing inward, an island of safety in an ocean of nightmares, but now, that safety was no longer needed. Five figures stood side by side before the barrier's edge.
Lillian clicked open the chamber of her six-shooter and loaded Albus's burning bullets one by one. The gold-etched rounds glowed faintly in the moonlight. Beside her, Cullen spun both of his pistols, flames licking the barrels like eager serpents.
He rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles with his cybernetic hand. "Let's light 'em up."
Blanchette held her blade low, the steel burning with fire, orange flames crawling up the edge of the silver as though tasting the air. Her eyes were narrowed, calm. Adolfo stood still for a moment, breathing in the scent of night, eyes glowing faintly amber. Then, with a grunt, he let go, and the beast appeared, this time in control. Albus held out his hand. Runes sparked to life along his bracelet as he muttered an incantation under his breath. Flames coiled in his palm and danced up his arm like a living entity.
The forest beyond the barrier was chaos. Hundreds of vampires surged through the black woods. Their skin was pale violet, eyes glowing crimson. Hunger was written into every twisted feature.
"Ready?" Albus asked, eyes never leaving the enemy lines.
Lillian tipped her hat, eyes shining.
"Always."
He lowered his arm, and the barrier fell. The five charged as one. The moment the light shield vanished, vampires shrieked and lunged, but they were met by a wall of flame and fury. Lillian's revolver roared with heat and thunder. She spun, fired, reloaded in a blink, her shots precise and merciless. Each burning bullet that struck its target erupted in a hiss of fire, the vampire convulsing before turning into ash.
Beside her, Cullen moved like a whirlwind, both pistols blazing with rapid shots. He ducked under a claw, fired point-blank into a vampire's chest, then turned and shot two more mid-air. Fire bloomed in every direction, silhouettes lit up like torches.
"I hope Callidora is watching!" he yelled as he vaulted off a fallen log, landing with a double blast that incinerated two more creatures.
Blanchette's sword was a beacon. She danced between fangs and claws, blade cleaving through enemies with elegant precision. Wherever her fire-touched blade struck, the flesh ignited. One vampire screamed as she severed its arm, and then with a clean spin, its head. She turned to another and kicked it back into the flames Cullen had left behind.
A snarl thundered through the woods as Adolfo crashed into a cluster of the creatures. He tore through them with brutal grace, his claws slicing, teeth ripping, a living engine of violence. One vampire flew at him in bat form and he grabbed it mid-air, slamming it into the ground before crushing it beneath his heel.
A bolt of fire soared overhead, Albus. His hands pulsed with power, each fireball arcing across the battlefield like a miniature comet. Wherever they landed, infernos exploded. He raised his other hand and drew a circle in the air, sending up a wall of flame that cut off reinforcements from the treeline.
"Regroup by the standing stones!" he shouted, launching another wave of fire toward an incoming wave.
But the enemy did not stop. For every vampire they burned, three more appeared. They scuttled across the trees, hissed from the shadows, eyes glowing like coals in the dark. Some were newly turned, barely able to fight. Others were faster, more agile, stronger. The firelight flickered across bloodstained bark and scorched soil. Screams echoed through the trees, both human and monstrous. Still, the five stood their ground. Still, they burned.
Cullen reloaded mid-roll, coming up behind Blanchette to take down a vampire lunging for her back.
"This is getting old!"
"You are just not aiming well enough!" she shouted back, slicing through two more with a spin of her flaming blade.
Lillian ducked under a tree branch, firing again and again.
"They keep coming…!"
"Good," growled Adolfo, jaws dripping with blackened blood. "Let them."
Albus raised both arms and slammed his palms together, sending a pulse of fire outward like a shockwave, knocking back a dozen enemies. The flames danced in his silver eyes. The forest was ablaze, but the night was far from over. And so, they fought. Together. And the army kept on coming.
Meanwhile, Callidora lounged atop a mound of velvet cushions and bloodstained silks beneath the twisted branches of a great, dead tree. The air was thick with perfume and iron, and around her, the clearing throbbed with a dark, unnatural life. Screams echoed faintly in the distance, fading, pitiful cries that brought a smile to her crimson lips.
Dozens of Wayland Woods citizens knelt before her in a dazed, dreamlike state, their eyes wide, their minds already unraveling from her touch. Her long fingers brushed the chin of a sobbing woman she has bitten as if admiring a sculpture.
"Oh, how fragile you all are," she purred, tilting the woman's head with a clawed finger. "But do not worry, little blossom. Soon, you will be like me. Beautiful. Eternal."
The woman tried to scream but could only let out a dry croak. Callidora then stood.
"Bring me the next," she called, and a pair of vampires shoved forward a trembling old man, eyes white with fear. "Ah, good. We like variety."
She bent over him, ready to bite.
A young vampire, slick with soot and panic, sprinted suddenly into the clearing, nearly tripping over the hem of his robes. "M-My Lady!"
Callidora's fangs hovered inches from her victim's neck. She exhaled slowly and turned.
"You are disturbing my dinner."
"The army…" the vampire stammered. "The five of them, they are out there, destroying us. They are using fire."
Callidora's smile vanished.
"Fire?" she asked, rising.
"Yes. Guns that burn, swords aflame, magical fireballs. They are cutting through us."
Callidora stood completely now, her gown fluttering slightly in the unnatural wind that seemed to always follow her. The villagers at her feet cowered, shrinking back as if sensing the shift. Callidora slowly turned away from them, stepping toward the withered tree. She laid a pale hand against its blackened bark, thinking.
"They learn fast…" she murmured. "Evolve."
She glanced back over her shoulder, lips curling into something between admiration and venom.
"I suppose I should have expected it. They are clever. However, they soon will be mine."
"They have found a weakness," she said darkly. "One I never prepared for."
Then her eyes lit up, a realization flashing like lightning.
"The scientist," she whispered.
The one who gave her immunity to garlic and made transformations fast. He could possibly do more. He was close, hidden deep in his lab nestled beneath the old ravines outside Blackhaven. She had spared him for a reason. She clapped her hands once, sharp and cold.
"Gather those we have yet to turn. We are leaving."
The vampire hesitated.
"My Lady, what about the—"
"I do not care about the front lines. Let the flames eat them for now." Her voice chilled the air. "What matters is that they burn for the last time. And for that, I need the scientist."
Two vampires began herding the survivors, binding their wrists and shoving them into chains. Some wailed. Others moaned softly, too broken to resist. Callidora swept forward, eyes blazing.
"Ready the path to the ravines. I want to be there before dawn."
"Yes, Mistress."
She did not look back as she walked toward the tree line, her gown dragging over broken bones and wilted flowers. The night seemed to part before her. Soon, she would return. And when she did, not even fire would stop her.
Later that day, the moon hung low as Callidora approached the hidden entrance carved into the side of a craggy ravine while her vampires waited with the humans behind trees. The air grew colder, tinged with the faint scent of chemicals and burning oil. A heavy metal door hissed open, revealing a dimly lit laboratory filled with flickering monitors, glass vials bubbling with strange liquids, and intricate machinery humming quietly.
Inside stood a lean man with sharp, angular features and wild, silver-streaked black hair that fell in jagged spikes around his pale face. His eyes, a piercing icy blue, flickered with restless intelligence behind thick spectacles. Dressed in a patchwork coat of leather and metal plates, he looked more a survivor of his own dangerous experiments than a mere scientist.
Callidora's heels clicked purposefully against the metal floor as she entered. Her dark cloak swept behind her, a stark contrast to the sterile lab.
"Ilya," she said smoothly, voice like silk wrapped in steel.
He glanced up from a set of glowing vials, his gaze sharp and calculating.
"You have come a long way for this, Callidora. What could you possibly want?"
"I want more immunity," she stated coldly. "Garlic won't stop me anymore, but fire… that is a problem. I need you to make me truly untouchable, no weakness, no limits."
Ilya shook his head slowly, voice low but firm.
"I owe you nothing. I have given you what you wanted, but you will not get anymore because I will gain nothing out of it, and I do not do charity."
Callidora stepped closer, eyes narrowing.
"You will get one thing."
Her voice dropped to a whisper, deadly and sure.
"You will get to stay alive."
Ilya's lips twitched, half smile, half grimace.
"A tempting offer."
With a sudden, fluid motion, he pressed a hidden button on the side of his watch. The lights dimmed briefly. From the shadows and hidden alcoves around the lab, three creatures stirred, emerging like ghosts from the dark, their forms unnatural. Callidora's smile faltered for a moment, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
"Did you think you were the only one who can evolve?" Ilya asked.
"You forget, Ilya," she hissed. "I am not so easily threatened."
The creatures silently closed ranks around him, ready to defend their master. The lab's cold air thickened with tension. Steam hissed from overhead vents, casting shifting shadows across the reinforced floor. Callidora's dress billowed as she turned in place, her sharp gaze moving from one unnatural silhouette to the next.
The first to step into the full glow of the lab lights was a towering figure, its insectoid body glistening with segments of chitin as black as tar. It had the unmistakable shape of a mite, but grotesquely humanoid. Six thick arms flexed with unnatural strength. Each hand gripped a different weapon: a long sword, a battle axe, a pair of curved daggers, a chained flail and a gleaming war pick. Its head was covered by a tarnished silver knight's helmet, too small for its bulging form, but bolted to its skull like a crown of iron. It made no sound. Just a slow, calculated rotation of its arms as it assessed her.
"Cute," Callidora muttered, smiling wickedly. "An armored bug with toys."
From her left, another form stepped forward. Taller and broader, this creature walked like a sluggish titan. A humanoid turtle, its leathery green skin stretched over thick, muscular limbs. Its ribs and spine were eerily exposed, but protected behind curved, polished glass that shimmered faintly with energy. In its left hand it carried its own massive shell, held not on its back, but like a shield forged in the deepest depths.
And then, faster than the eye could follow, a blur zipped across the lab's ceiling beams and dropped silently beside the turtle. This one was lean, feral, and feline. A humanoid cheetah, wrapped in sleek black ninja garb stitched with silver threads. A chain-sickle twirled lazily in its hand, kunai strapped across its chest, and its golden eyes locked onto Callidora with predator hunger. It crouched low, muscles twitching, tail flicking with anticipation.
Callidora's grin widened. "Three pets. Three flavors of failure."
Without another word, Callidora dashed forward. The mite-knight reacted instantly, its six arms moving like clockwork gears. The axe swung low while the pick stabbed high. Callidora weaved between them like water, her form vanishing into a blur, but even as she evaded one blow, the flail cracked toward her like a whip. She caught it with her clawed hand mid-air, snarling, and yanked. The mite stumbled forward, but rather than resist, it lunged with all six weapons at once. Callidora disappeared in a cloud of shadows.
She reappeared behind the turtle, but its shield-shell was already raised, catching the blow of her descending claws with a thunderous clang. The cheetah struck at her exposed side from above, throwing a spinning shuriken laced with green venom. She caught the shuriken mid-spin, melted it in her palm with acidic blood, and flung a wave of red mist at the cheetah. But the feline darted away, bounding from wall to ceiling, vanishing into the rafters again. The turtle charged, smashing its glass-plated chest into her with crushing force. Callidora flew backward, slamming into a wall. Dust rained down as pipes groaned from the impact. She licked blood from her lip, eyes glowing now.
"Alright," she said, baring her fangs. "Let's play."
The mite charged again. This time, Callidora did not dodge. She surged forward to meet it, dodging three of the weapons and grabbing the wrist holding the war pick. With a sharp twist and a surge of unnatural strength, she snapped the wrist backward and drove her claws into the chitinous elbow joint. The creature hissed, if that sound could be called a hiss, and spun, attempting to disorient her with a bladed cyclone. Callidora leapt straight over it, landing on the mite's back, using its helmeted head as leverage to back flip into the air, only to be intercepted mid-flight by the cheetah's bladed wire. It wrapped around her ankle, yanked her down, and slung her across the floor like a rag doll. Sparks burst from her body as she crashed into a metal console. The turtle followed up, slamming its shell down like a meteor. At the last moment, Callidora turned into a bat and flew away, the shell smashing through the floor. She reformed behind the turtle, fangs out, claws extended.
She aimed for its exposed neck, but the glass-plated ribs glowed, and a sudden pulse of energy burst from the creature's core, blasting her back. Callidora landed on her feet, hair disheveled, dress torn, breathing heavier than before. Her eyes gleamed with exhilaration and fury.
"So that is how it is," she said softly. "Not just experiments… but soldiers."
The cheetah's tried another aerial ambush, but Callidora slammed it to the floor. The mite came crashing down from above, spinning its sword and axe in a deadly cross. She vanished again. The three creatures regrouped slowly, standing between her and Ilya, who stood watching, arms folded, one eyebrow raised. Callidora emerged, her eyes wild, her fangs stained with blood.
"This…" she said, "is getting interesting."