Chapter 64

Chapter 64



Throughout peasant houses, the streets lay eerily vacant. Inside the prisoners' building, they met up with the other troll. The ferals and the hunters have been having a friendly fight in the courtyard. The troll leader, Andrew, and Diana slinked through the shadows, trying to stay out of sight. The screams had died down, periodic and at a distance. Flames burned all cabins and huts, but they did not see any feral werewolves or trolls.

“This is not a good sign,” whispered Andrew.

“Why?” Asked Diana.

“Because they plan to burn the entire town.”

“Oh!”

The troll grumbled behind them, “My lord, my people have a secret hideaway on the backside of the mansion. I am sure they would have hidden there at the first sign of trouble.”

“Is there room for a third person?” asked Andrew.

“Yes,” Robah, the leader of the trolls, replied. “My spy told me that your friend will be out later for the trial of rebellion. But I believe it was all for a show. I think they intended to keep him as hostage for the war to come, knowing he was the heir of the Whiteland pack,” said the leader of the troll as they continued. 

"You knew about Tomas?" Diana asked.

"Yes, my lady. We trolls have ears and eyes everywhere. We were a perfect spy on any account. And we are glad to serve you and your mate."

She raised a brow but ignored the little creature’s words.




"Okay,” said Diana.




Ahead of them, in the centre of the borough, they could see the glow of a huge bonfire. The ferals had gathered there with the hostages and some of the human hunters as well. The trio needed to pass the gathering to get to the iron cages of the prisoner, ready for the silver bidding where Tommy was held captive.




They slid past homes demolished by the smashing strength of the ferals. They trembled at the degree of destruction. Whole houses were reduced to rubble, the streets littered with household items and furniture, and little fires everywhere. But not a sign of life.

They made their way through the cluttered back alleys that the troll knew so well. They avoided the middle of the bonfire. They were almost to the narrow street when curiosity got the better of them. They decided to turn back and take a look. A gap in the wreckage gave them a better look at the open space.




The garbage and debris in the town square had been emptied and piled up with wood. Nearly a hundred of the ferals stood around like a gang of scoundrels. Laughing and screaming, some fighting with each other for a show.




Vomit arose in Diana’s throat. They could see a crude line of iron cages full of weeping, pleading humans and trolls, werewolves, and witches. Other humans were strung up from poles, and still others were surrounded and taunted by groups of ferals. But the ultimate dreadfulness playing out before their eyes was not one of torture and ravishment, but cannibalism. The ferals were eating their hostages one by one. Some took the time to impale the victims and roast them over the flames. Others had no such civility, eating the poor humans alive and drinking their blood. The hostages were not being held for ransom at all. They were being held for food.




Tears filled Diana's eyes. He knew the ferals were a vicious congregation and sometimes got in trouble for their uproar, but she had not realised that they were capable of such barbarism. Her whole view of them had turned upside down. She wanted to kill them all. She wanted to... "Dammit!" she grumbled under her breath. "Andrew, we need to do something."

“No, we can't interfere. Our mission is to rescue Tomas, nothing else.”

“But—”

He sighed and looked at her. “Diana, we are clearly outnumbered... hundreds to two. The odds—”

“I know, but—”

Suddenly, behind them, they heard the snap of wood and the sound of stumbling and grunting. They dropped to the ground and slid beneath some wreckage. About twenty feet away, a drunken hunter relieved himself in the open. Not all the ferals and hunters were at the bonfire. Stragglers wandered the streets and back alleys. The trio would have to be extra careful.




The hunter belched, and then, without warning, a projectile vomited into a heap of rubbish. The upheaval allowed Andrew, the troll, and Diana the opportunity to slip away without being seen or heard.











Alpha George of the Wetland Pack and Beta Leon, his son, were not at the old mansion organising a military disclosure to the commotions because they had been the ones who deceived the ferals and been using their forces to fight with the Whiteland Pack. They had been the ones to shut the town gates, and they had been the ones to initiate the crowd commotions of ferals and hunters in the town's centre. They had schemed this whole drunken orgy of bloodlust. They had now gone off to a vague corner of the town to celebrate. However, bloodshed made the ferals hysterical, with a carnal urge that they misbehaved with each other.




After they had completed their depressing feat, they threw on their Alpha and Beta coats and started back to the bonfire. Only a few alleys away from the scene of feral horridness, suddenly the two heard a disturbance from one of the homes. They slipped up to a window and stared inside. An old troll climbed up from a trap door on the floor amidst a pile of debris. Beaming to each other, the Alpha and Beta placed themselves near the door, ready to trap these backstabbers. But they paused at a sight they had not anticipated. Someone they recognised very well followed the old troll from the hiding place: Lord Andrew Lawvosky, the legendary ancient vampire, and a beautiful woman.

“Did you just see what I see, alpha?” Leon asked.

“Yes,” the gigantic alpha frowned.

“Why is he here? What's he doing?”

“I don't know, father!”

But their grimaces turned to broad grins. What a fortunate revelation for them, and what a lovely surprise for these poor trolls. Confident that they could kill them all.

A few minutes later, the werewolves burst into the cottage where the trolls were hiding.

The troll leader and the rest gasped and backed into a corner when they saw gigantic wolves howling.

“Shit!” Andrew and Diana hurriedly took out their swords and hissed at the wolves. The trolls took up the remains of a chair and brandished it as a weapon, ready to defend themselves.




Alpha George howled and called to his pack link with his dozen werewolf warriors. Smirking, he looked at the enemy. "Look what we have here."




Andrew hissed, his fangs lengthened.




“Ah, the ancient vampire without a memory. Good to see you here at my territory, Lord Lawvosky, but I did not remember inviting you in.”




The trolls stepped in front of the two vampires, trying to protect them. Alpha George then suddenly laughed and brushed the troll aside as though it were nothing more than a feather as he shifted into his massive brown wolf. Seeing this, his beta followed suit.




In a flash, George grabbed Diana by the throat and pinned her against the wall. Then he seized the troll with his enormous paws as he roared. This happened so fast that Diana was surprised by the huge werewolf's action.




While Leon attacked and overwhelmed Andrew with his fast movement, Andrew fought with the massive werewolf as the two clawed at each other.




Alpha George glared at Diana. “What are you doing here, little vampire? You should have stayed safe in the Whiteland.”




Diana, who was surprised, struggled in his suffocating grasp. “W-why are you doing this? Who are you?” she choked out. Alpha George ignored her question. He leaned in close and licked her face with its foul tongue. “I have long imagined consuming a vampire. Young, fresh, and pretty!” George opened his snout to bite off her head.




But he did not get to bite tonight. A blade drifted through the air and pierced his cheek. “Bloody fuck!” he shouted. He abruptly dropped Diana to the ground. Clutching his wound in pain. He pulled out the blade with a wince of pain. “You wench!” He looked for the source of the stinger.