Chapter 55: Blood Beneath the Ice

The private jet cut steadily through the dark sky as it made its way toward Antarctica.

Inside the cabin, everything was quiet.

I sat by the window, watching the endless stretch of clouds below while my thoughts wandered.

Juliet.

What could she possibly be doing all the way out there?

Antarctica wasn’t exactly a vacation destination for vampires. There were no cities, no nightlife, no crowds to blend into. Just ice, wind, and isolation.

I leaned back in the seat, replaying old memories in my mind, trying to make sense of it.

Then something clicked.

A memory surfaced.

Juliet had once mentioned something during one of our conversations long ago. At the time, I hadn’t paid much attention to it, but now it suddenly felt important.

She had said Timi once stayed somewhere in Antarctica.

Not just anywhere.

A hidden village… or maybe she had called it a kingdom.

Something concealed deep within the frozen continent where outsiders would never think to look.

My eyes narrowed slightly.

That had to be it.

If Juliet was in Antarctica, then she was probably there—with Timi.

The plane eventually began its descent, the engines lowering in pitch as the pilot guided us toward the icy runway.

Outside the window, the world had turned completely white.

Snow and ice stretched endlessly in every direction. Jagged mountains stood in the distance, and the wind carried snow across the frozen landscape like drifting smoke.

The jet finally landed at a research airfield on Ross Island.

Once the plane stopped, I stepped out into the freezing air. The cold hit instantly, sharp and biting, but it didn’t bother me much.

Around the small airport, workers moved equipment and cargo between aircraft. Snowmobiles and trucks were parked nearby while researchers in thick jackets walked across the tarmac.

I walked toward a group of baggage handlers sitting together near a stack of cargo crates.

They were laughing about something.

When I approached, they looked up at me curiously.

“Hey,” I said. “Have any of you noticed anything… strange happening around here lately?”

The men exchanged glances.

Then one of them grinned.

“The only weird thing around here,” he said casually, “is when the penguins start doing the moonwalk.”

The others burst out laughing.

Their laughter echoed across the cold air.

I felt a flicker of irritation rise in my chest.

But I forced a smile.

Slowly, I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my wallet. I flipped it open, took out a few hundred-dollar bills, and held them between my fingers.

Then I handed the money to the man who had made the joke.

The reaction was instant.

The laughter stopped.

All of them went quiet and looked at the cash in his hand.

Their expressions changed from amusement to serious curiosity.

The man cleared his throat and leaned slightly closer to me.

“Honestly,” he said, lowering his voice, “nothing weird ever happens here.”

He paused for a second.

“But…”

He glanced briefly at his friends before continuing.

“A few weeks ago, some people wandered into another research airport not too far from here.”

His tone shifted slightly.

“They looked like they had just come from hell.”

My attention sharpened immediately.

“Were there any women with them?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“I didn’t see them myself, but from what I heard…”

He leaned in a little closer.

“They were all black, just like you.”

That made my heart beat a little faster.

“But there was something strange about one of them,” he added.

“What?” I asked.

He scratched his chin.

“Apparently there was a younger girl with them… and she had blue hair.”

He shook his head slightly.

“Which was very weird.”

“Apparently they got apprehended and arrested,” the man continued.

“The French guys over there probably thought they were some kind of spies.”

That didn’t make sense.

I frowned slightly.

No ordinary humans could take down Juliet. Not unless something else had happened first.

“Where is this other airport?” I asked.

He rubbed his beard thoughtfully.

“Not far. About five miles from here.”

Then he shook his head.

“But you can’t walk there.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll freeze to death before you even get halfway.”

I looked around the research airport. Snow stretched across the ground in every direction, and the wind pushed icy dust across the runway.

“How do people move around here then?” I asked.

He pointed toward a large machine parked near a hangar.

“They use snowcat vehicles.”

The machine had massive tracks instead of wheels, built to move through deep snow.

“But they don’t hand those out to tourists,” he added.

I nodded slowly.

“Who do I need to talk to if I want to rent one?”

The man looked at me for a moment.

Then a smirk slowly spread across his face.

“That information will cost extra.”

I didn’t argue.

I simply pulled out another hundred-dollar bill and handed it to him.

He took the money and folded it into his pocket.

Then he studied me curiously.

“Why do you want to go there anyway?” he asked. “Who are those people to you?”

For a moment I said nothing.

Then I looked him in the eye.

“Have you ever been in love?”

His friends immediately burst out laughing behind him.

The man raised his hands.

“Say no more.”

He stood up from the crate he had been sitting on and brushed the snow off his jacket.

“I’ll be right back,” he told his friends.

Then he gestured for me to follow him.

He led me inside the airport.

The moment we stepped through the doors, the freezing wind disappeared, replaced by the warm hum of heaters and the distant noise of machinery. The interior looked simple and practical—metal walls, fluorescent lights, and workers moving in and out carrying equipment.

As we walked down a narrow hallway, Bill glanced at me.

“So,” he said casually, “what’s your name?”

“Emmanuel.”

He nodded.

“Nice to meet you, Emmanuel. I’m Bill.”

We kept walking until he stopped in front of a small office. The door was slightly open, and inside a man was sitting behind a desk, reading something on a computer screen.

Bill knocked lightly and pushed the door open.

“Boss,” he said, stepping inside, “this gentleman would like to talk to you.”

The man behind the desk looked up.

Bill then turned to me with a small grin.

“Peace, man.”

And just like that, he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

I walked forward and stood in front of the desk.

“I would like to rent a snowcat vehicle,” I said.

The man leaned back in his chair and laughed.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You’re part of that tourist group that just arrived?”

I frowned slightly.

“That was unnecessary.”

He chuckled again and folded his hands on the desk.

“Alright then,” he said. “Where exactly are you headed?”

“To the nearest research airport.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You mean the French airport?”

“Yes.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying me.

“What are you going there for?”

“That’s personal,” I replied.

The man burst into laughter again.

“Friend,” he said, shaking his head, “if you need my help, you’re going to have to do a lot better than ‘that’s personal.’”

I was starting to lose my patience.

Before he could say anything else, I reached across the desk and grabbed his wrist.

He reacted instantly, yanking his hand away.

“What the hell—”

He tried to stand up from his chair.

But I pushed him back down.

“Sit,” I said quietly.

He froze.

Our eyes locked.

The irritation in his face slowly began to fade as my gaze held his.

My voice lowered, calm and steady.

“You’re going to help me.”

His breathing slowed.

“You’re going to give me a snowcat vehicle.”

The tension left his shoulders as the hypnotic pull settled over him.

“Yes,” he murmured faintly.

He stood up from the chair, his movements now slow and obedient.

“Follow me.”

I walked behind him as he led me through the hallway and out another door.

We stepped into a massive hangar that looked like a garage.

Inside were rows and rows of large tracked vehicles—at least fifty snowcats lined up in perfect order. Their thick metal bodies and massive tracks were designed to crush through deep snow and frozen terrain without slowing down.

The man walked to one of them and reached into a cabinet beside the wall.

He pulled out a key and handed it to me.

“There is a GPS navigation system inside,” he said mechanically. “It will take you where you want to go.”

He stepped back.

“Good luck.”

Then he simply turned and walked away.

I climbed up into the driver’s seat of the snowcat.

The interior was impressive—solid steel panels, a wide windshield designed for harsh weather, multiple control switches, heating vents, and a digital navigation display glowing softly on the dashboard.

I took a moment to admire the design.

Then I inserted the key and started the engine.

The machine roared to life with a deep mechanical rumble.

Slowly, I pulled the snowcat forward and drove it out of the hangar.

The large metal doors opened automatically as I approached.

Within seconds I was driving across the snowy ground of the airport and heading straight for the outer gate.

The guards barely even looked up as the heavy vehicle rolled past them.

A moment later I crossed the gate and drove out into the vast frozen wilderness of Antarctica.

The snowcat moved slowly across the endless white landscape as I followed the route displayed on the GPS.

The screen glowed softly in the dark cabin.

Avions des Glaciers de Provence (AGP) — the nearest research airport.

I selected the destination and the system traced a long winding path across the frozen continent.

Then I started driving.

The journey was far from easy.

At first the terrain was smooth, just thick layers of packed snow stretching endlessly in front of me. But the farther I went, the rougher the land became.

Massive ice sheets rose like frozen waves across the ground. The snowcat had to climb slowly over them, the heavy tracks grinding and crunching against the ice.

Several times the vehicle tilted dangerously as I crossed uneven ridges.

Then came the snowfields.

The wind had piled the snow into deep drifts that swallowed the tracks halfway up the vehicle. The engine roared loudly as it pushed through the resistance, the machine forcing its way forward inch by inch.

At one point the wind picked up so violently that I could barely see through the windshield. Snow blasted against the glass like sand, turning the outside world into a swirling white storm.

But I kept going.

The GPS line kept guiding me forward through the frozen wilderness.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, lights appeared in the distance.

Another airport.

I drove the snowcat toward it and entered the open grounds.

This place was busier than the previous one. Cargo planes were parked along the icy runway, and groups of workers moved equipment across the snow.

Most of them were speaking French.

As soon as they saw the snowcat roll in, a few men wearing lab coats hurried toward me.

I stopped the vehicle and climbed down.

They immediately started speaking rapidly in French.

I raised my hands slightly.

“Sorry,” I said. “I only understand English.”

The men exchanged glances, then one of them stepped forward and switched to broken English.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for my friends,” I replied. “They came here by mistake a few weeks ago, and I’m trying to find them.”

The men looked confused.

They started talking among themselves in French again, their voices low and uncertain.

I frowned slightly.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

One of them turned back to me.

“Your friends… they are no longer here.”

My heart tightened.

“What do you mean?”

“They got into one of our planes.”

“Where was the plane headed?” I asked quickly.

The man answered simply.

“Paris.”

The word Paris hit me like a wall.

I lowered my head and rested my hands on my kneecaps, breathing slowly.

Paris.

That meant the trail had just become a lot longer.

I had crossed half the world chasing Juliet… and now I would have to keep going.

One of the men in lab coats stepped closer.

“You have to come with us.”

I straightened up and looked at him.

“Why?”

Before he could answer, I heard the sound of boots crunching across the snow.

A group of soldiers approached from the side of the airfield, their rifles already raised.

AK-47s.

The barrels were pointed directly at my chest.

I sighed quietly.

“Listen,” I said, my voice calm. “I don’t want to kill you.”

One of the soldiers shouted something sharply in French.

"You are a spy aren't you?" one of the Soldiers asked "Get on your knees or die".

The command was followed by the metallic click of rifles being prepared to fire.

I closed my eyes for a brief moment.

“Very well,” I muttered.

The first shot rang out.

But I was already moving.

The moment the trigger was pulled, I stepped sideways with supernatural speed. Bullets tore through the air where I had been standing a second earlier.

Snow exploded from the ground as the gunfire continued.

I rushed forward.

Before the closest soldier could adjust his aim, I grabbed the barrel of his rifle and twisted violently. The metal bent sideways with a loud crack before I drove my fist straight through his chest.

He dropped instantly.

More shots followed.

I ducked low, weaving through the gunfire as bullets ripped through the icy ground around me.

Another soldier swung his rifle toward my head.

Too slow.

I caught the weapon, yanked him forward, and snapped his neck before throwing his body into two others behind him. They crashed into the snow in a tangled heap.

The airfield erupted into chaos.

The men in lab coats stared in horror for a split second before panic took over.

People started running.

Workers abandoned crates and equipment, sprinting toward the buildings and planes. Shouts echoed across the snow as everyone fled the scene.

The remaining soldiers kept firing.

I closed the distance before they could reload.

One lost his arm when I tore it from his body and sent him crashing into the side of a cargo truck. Another tried to back away, but I grabbed his head and slammed it against the metal wing of a nearby plane.

Within seconds…

It was over.

The gunfire stopped.

Silence slowly returned to the frozen airfield.

Bodies of the soldiers lay scattered across the snow.

Everyone else had already fled.

The once-busy airport field was now completely empty.

I brushed the snow from my coat and walked calmly toward the entrance of the inner airport building.

The moment I stepped inside…

I could hear it.

Heartbeats.

Many of them.

Fast.

Panicked.

Echoing through the walls of the building as the people inside tried to hide.

I followed the sound of the heartbeats down a narrow hallway.

They were loud now.

Fast.

Terrified.

The deeper I walked into the building, the clearer it became where they were coming from.

A large storage room at the end of the corridor.

The door was slightly open.

I pushed it.

Inside, I saw them.

A group of workers huddled together behind cargo crates and equipment racks. Some were crouched on the floor, others pressed themselves against the walls, their faces pale with fear.

The moment they saw me standing in the doorway, several of them gasped.

One woman covered her mouth to stop herself from screaming.

Their heartbeats sped up even more.

I stepped into the room slowly.

“Which one of you is a pilot?” I asked.

No one answered.

They just stared at me.

Frozen.

So I sighed and spoke again.

“Listen carefully.”

My voice echoed slightly in the empty room.

“The only person I won’t kill… is the pilot who can fly.”

For a moment there was silence.

Then suddenly—

Almost everyone raised their hands.

Some pointed at themselves.

Others pointed at the person next to them.

A few even pushed each other forward desperately.

“I’m a pilot!”

“No, me!”

“I can fly!”

Panic had taken over completely.

I stood there quietly, studying their faces.

Their eyes were wide with fear.

Their bodies trembling.

Then I slowly lifted my hand and pointed.

“You.”

A middle-aged man near the wall froze.

Then I pointed again.

“And you.”

A woman standing behind a crate gasped softly.

“I choose both of you.”

The room went completely silent.

“That means,” I continued calmly,

“I get to kill the rest of you.”

I smiled.

And as I did, my face began to change.

The muscles in my jaw tightened.

My fangs slowly extended.

And my eyes darkened into something far less human.