Idiots that throw it away do not deserve sympathy – do not deserve mercy.

  Those that strive to take it are even worse. If the Twilight Court is making its move – he will match it. With all of the ferocity that he still possesses.

  His gear is brutal and rudimentary. A Springfield M1903, a bolt-action service rifle from his time way back then. It’s a horrible fate to survive when everyone else dies – their hopes and dreams pressing into his skin. He couldn’t die, the world is a ruthless creature and there’s no guarantee that anyone will make it out. He could remember the speeches of the great fools that sent them out into hell, that the survivors carry on the legacy of the fallen, that they will live on. Little did he know that he was the fortunate one.

  “Carlos?” Alexi enquires gently. “Are you okay, sir?”

  “I’m fine.” He growls. “We need to get moving in a hurry, get the sirens going.”

  Alexi obliges, pressing his foot down on the accelerator, a loud cry going out of the speakers. You will be special, son, these words return to him. A young man that couldn’t die – the years fell on him hard and strong. But he wouldn’t buckle, there’s too much of an investment in this one guy.

  “I know you don’t like reminders, Carlos.”

  “You think it matters to me, Alexi, does it look like I’m feeling weak?”

  “Maybe you’re not feeling it, maybe you are. I can’t say.”

  “Sentiments don’t save you in the end, nor do ideals. You either die or you live.” Carlos is bitter now. He’s always been a bitter, resentful bastard – or maybe who he is now is a repcement for who he was then. Why gain the power to save life after all the damage is already done? It’s because life isn’t fair, it pys by its rules. The pyers have to follow the game. There’s no rest for those with a torn heart, a hurt spirit; there’s some wounds that don’t heal. “If these brats had any sense they’d stay out of the way – leave it to us.”

  “That didn’t apply to you, Carlos. You went to war anyway.” Alexi says. “You’ve always been braver than most.”

  “The world likes them young. Some of those embers burn out twice as fast because of course they fucking do.” Carlos seethes angrily for a moment. He didn’t need the past any longer, there’s no expiration date on his service to the greater cause. “It was always a bad decision – look at those bastards that caused this. We don’t know how good we have it until it's gone.”

  “We’re human, decisions good or bad are in our DNA.” Alexi concludes swiftly, turning the wheel sharply to the left as they thunder towards Kingsgrove. “What would you say this one is?”

  “A good one. We can finally do something right – instead of bullshitting our way through all this shite.” Carlos is weary of a lot of things, but the path ahead is clear. Not clear of the lunatics.

  With their shoddy drivers licenses and their little hatchbacks.

  “What will you do?” Alexi asks.

  “Fighting the Red Queen directly is suicide.” Carlos grumbles. “If she has her followers with her-.”

  “That would cause a problem. The knight of corruption, the painter of nightmares, and other nasties that crave power and domination.” Alexi is reflective now, as they screech up to the reception door of the prison. “There’s no room for failure, Carlos.”

  “I fucking know that. It depends how deep we are already-.”

  Carlos steps out of the back of the vehicle, with his weapon at his side, along with his armour. All of it done up in silver, a perfect shield against the supernatural and anything that seeks to curse or harm. Alexi is right behind him, favoring a faster gun and a swift sword.

  They’re barely outside before everything goes to batshit insanity.

  -

  “They’re here. Both of them.” Vukosava is bracing herself. “An army at their back.”

  “Friendly or nasty?” John asks.

  “Nasty first.”

  “Luck is overrated anyways. The others are falling back at any moment – where do you think the Red Queen is going first?”

  “The biggest block.” Vukosava takes off, blistering away at an almost unfathomable speed.

  “Holy shit, what the hell?” John is gaping at her, shouting from the other end of the hallway.

  “I think the benefits are kicking in overtime. I don’t have anything that’s dampening my power.” Vukosava reflects directly. “Or whatever this is.”

  “You’ll have to run defense, the phones are cooked.” John barely finishes his sentence before the entirety of Kingsgrove starts to shake. He’s testing his phone over and over. The mortar and bricks start to colpse inwards, as if a vengeful goddess is smming her hand into the walls, sending it rattling back and forth. Vukosava couldn’t help but think of a big doll house, and they’re the tiny figurines. They’re ants in comparison to the Red Queen’s raw power, even the corrupt knight can treat us like minor inconveniences.

  “It seems that there are misguided fools - that seek to stop our work.”

  The way ahead for them is clear, the prisoners and the guards lie in their path. Vukosava curses loudly as she steadies herself. This is the one thing they couldn’t prepare for, the entities simply deciding to make their own way into the prison by breaking down the walls of Kingsgrove.

  “It means nothing, my Queen. They will fight – I told you that they would.”

  With no other option avaible, the guards change their priority to deal with the intruders, turning their pistols onto the enemy. It’s a big freaking mess for one simple reason, none of their bullets contain silver, meaning that most likely they’ll pass through the salivating monsters harmlessly.

  Vukosava can hear the bullets pinging off the walls, like a coin in a cup. There’s no mercy in the Red Queen’s heart for either the wmen or the prisoners, both are to bme in equal measure and both will suffer in the same way.

  The Red Queen is making her way through the prison and all Vukosava can hear is the prisoners and guards screaming and cursing together.

  Their bodies were twisting and contorting, their heads popping like rotten tomatoes as the Red Queen’s chains started to wrap around them. Behind her are monsters that reek of death and disease.

  A series of loud roars echo through the prison and Vukosava can feel her heart tighten with concern, John readies his silver-mail bat. The others have the same equipment, silver at the ready plus wards to deal with the malevolent entities. Hopefully that should be enough. It’s not a thing she often does, but Vukosava is praying that everyone will make it through to the end.

  Her thoughts go out - as a low, guttural growl rolls down the corridor, it chills the air and starts to hack away at the desperate courage of those that are fighting to take back control of the prison. This is different from the salivating werewolves that possess nothing but an animalistic need to satisfy their stomachs. This thing isn’t some mindless beast.

  The next growl is louder, more powerful. It’s a bear. A giant one.

  She can hear the screams of defiance and fear. “What the fuck is that thing?”

  “It doesn’t like sound, keep shooting at it.”

  Vukosava can hear their guns go off - bsting away at this creature. Intent on driving it back.

  Whatever this thing is, it’s terrifying. The Red Queen speaks. “Go on, beast, weaken their resolve.”

  The fight continues. They won’t hold out for long, not unless she gets involved.

  “I will kill the unrighteous. The ones who tear apart the loved and cherished. It’s time for the cleansing to begin.” A moment passes, silence, then an explosion of violence rips into Vukosava’s eardrums. It’s deafening and leaves her woozy, every fiber of her body tingling.

  They’re cwing at the walls to escape, their skin, their muscles, their blood, are burning away, fibre by fibre, strand by strand. The beast the Red Queen spoke to isn’t alone, there are other entities joining in the sughter - tearing and sshing everything to pieces, painting the walls red with blood and savaging the corpses for fresh meat to fill their bellies. It’s nothing but wanton brutality - that’s the only thing the Red Queen promises.

  Vukosava runs faster. She can’t just stand aside and allow this to continue.

  Sir Victor pauses in his bloody work. “They’re going to talk with you.”

  “So be it – I can sense one such creature now. She is close.” The Red Queen turns, her voice filling Vukosava’s ears. “Do you intend to fight them, Sir Victor?”

  “Them? What are you talking about?”

  “Surely you don’t think they’d be the only ones to oppose us, Sir Victor. There are others.”

  They’re here. Carlos and Alexi – the two fuckers they need most.

  “I wasn’t sure at first – but it seems that there were more souls than I expected. A good deal resides in one man.”

  “You want me to deal with him? They’re trying to divide us.”

  “So be it. We’ll py their little game for now. The girl hasn’t awakened properly, and the man is an unfortunate thing indeed. Once you put him down, we will continue to dispense justice.” The Red Queen dismisses the knight. “I know you can hear me, little one. I suppose I can comply with your ‘request’. It is a great pity that Charles decided to join you, but no matter. He’ll be dealt with accordingly.”

  -

  “It seems that I’ll be fighting you, fucker. I hope you put up a better fight than the dogs.” The Knight of Corruption is walking towards Carlos and Alexi. “Or will this be an easy fight?”

  “We’ll find out.” Carlos snarls back.

  “Indeed.” The knight presents his crimson bde, overridden with bile and gore. “Let’s begin.”

  “Stay back, Alexi.” Carlos pulls down on the bolt, firing off four shots in rapid succession.

  He swings his bde towards the bullets in a huge arc, using the ft of his weapon as a shield. Sparks run over it – the silver bullets biting away into the hollow sword. With a flick of the wrist, the knight sends them hurtling back. Instinctively – Carlos slides underneath it, the sheer velocity blowing chunks out of the yard wall. With bricks and mortar flying everywhere. Sirens are going off; the guards and prisoners are running for shelter. If this keeps going, there’s not going to be anyone to tell the tale. At least they wouldn’t have to work about the dumbass news stations this time round, spinning another story out of the wreckage – gang violence, a freak weather incident, a prison break. So much paperwork, so little time.

  “She was right, there’s more than one soul in your body. What did they do to you?”

  “I’ll tell you when you go back home, how about that?” Carlos grins savagely.

  Alexi is standing off to one side, his gun and sword at the ready. “We can’t waste time.”

  “Your silver does present a problem; however, my corruption doesn’t need to reach your bones.”

  The underground parking – shit. He doesn’t need to fight them; he can just melt through the ground and bury them in rubble. That’ll give them a slow and painful death of suffocation.

  “So, you intend to fight us as a monster? Not as a man.” Carlos loads a magazine into his Springfield M1903 . “Is that what you really want?”

  “What do you hunger for – soul keeper?” Sir Victor Alberius looks Carlos in the eye.

  “Peace.” Carlos locks his eyes onto the suit of armour, glimpsing two white circles starting back at him. “What else would a soldier wish for?”

  “Damnation of the vile. The nature of humans is corrupt – peace will always be a lie, and the fuckers that break it will always be real and constant. There’s no retribution, not until it’s too te. I’m here to correct my mistakes – I will kill all of them and bury them alongside you.”

  “So, that’s what you are – the Queen’s personal attack dog. You bark when she tells you too – are you really that different from the dogmen?” Carlos snaps back. “The ones that served that prick, the Eternal Prince?”

  The knight doesn’t reply, he rushes forwards with his bde, becoming a barely legible bolt of dark armour. Sir Victor Alberius is done talking, done treating with the enemy. He pnts his left greave down, tearing through the cement and bitumen. With his left hand, he swings his weapon horizontally with so much force that the cars of the employees start teetering. Their windows shaking and crackling like a thin yer of ice. Carlos listens to his instincts, stepping just out of range as the point brushes just past his nose, he doesn’t have a chance to counterattack with his bayonet before a metal gauntlet flies towards his heart. With little choice, he blocks the attack with the hand guard. Sparks fly as Carlos goes hurtling back, skidding over the ground painfully, rolling backwards with the momentum he nds on his feet.

  Alexi fires off a mag of bullets – taking Sir Victor’s attention away for just a moment.

  He starts stepping left and right, managing to dodge the bullets. This is going to be difficult, Alexi thought, if the fight keeps going like this – we’ll eventually run out of things to throw at him. We need to improvise.

  Sir Victor swings his bde down vertically, splitting the ground with his venomous corruption, Alexi manages to barely sidestep, thrusting his weapon upwards only for the knight to not be there. He rolls with the direction of the thrust, spinning his bde around to connect with Alexi’s, roaring in anger - sending him skywards. Up here it’s hopeless, there’s no way for Alexi to switch up his momentum or change direction. That’s why fighters keep their feet pnted on the ground.

  Carlos is running back, pulling the pin on a grenade. He times it perfectly, the explosion hitting Sir Victor Alberius front on.