Chapter 2 Trespassing

He scrambled over the car, moving with a terrifying, jerky speed.

I turned and ran deeper into the alley. There was nowhere to go. Just the fence.

Wait.

To my right, half-hidden behind a stack of rotting pallets, was a hole in the brick wall.

It was the entrance to the Old Metro.

The city had condemned the subway tunnels decades ago after the floods. They were boarded up, sealed off, forgotten. But the boards here had been pried loose, leaving a gap just wide enough for a person to squeeze through.

It was a black maw. It smelled of sewage and ancient, stagnant water.

It was my only chance.

I didn't hesitate. I dove for the hole.

"Get back here!" the Butcher shrieked.

I squeezed through the gap, the rough brick scraping my injured arm. I bit back a scream, kicking my legs to propel myself forward.

I tumbled out onto a concrete platform on the other side.

It was pitch black. The air was freezing, much colder than the street above.

I scrambled to my feet, fumbling for my phone to use the flashlight, but my hands were slick with blood and rain. I dropped it. It skittered away into the dark.

Behind me, the wooden boards splintered. The Butcher was coming through.

"I can smell you!" he giggled. "You can't hide! You smell like sugar!"

I ran blind.

I ran into the suffocating darkness of the tunnel. The ground was uneven, littered with trash and rubble. I tripped, skinned my knees, and got back up. I kept one hand on the damp, slimy wall to guide me.

My breath came in ragged, sobbing gasps. My arm throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

I had to find a maintenance ladder. A service exit. Anything.

The footsteps behind me were getting closer. They were heavy, echoing in the enclosed space.

"Here kitty, kitty," the voice echoed, bouncing off the walls, making it sound like he was everywhere at once.

I pushed myself harder, my lungs burning. The tunnel seemed to be sloping downward. The air was getting colder, sharper. The smell of sewage was fading, replaced by something else.

Something clean. Like snow and pine.

That doesn't make sense, my brain fired, confused. We're underground.

The ground beneath my feet changed. The concrete gave way to something smoother. Cobblestones?

And then, I saw light ahead.

Not the yellow artificial light of the subway, and not the gray light of the city.

It was moonlight.

But it was wrong. It was… red.

A pale, crimson glow filtered into the tunnel from an opening up ahead.

I sprinted toward it. The Butcher was close now I could hear his wet, rattling breath right behind me.

I burst out of the tunnel mouth.

I didn't stop. I ran ten more feet before my brain registered what my eyes were seeing.

I skidded to a halt, my sneakers sliding on slick, icy stone.

I wasn't in the subway. I wasn't in Ashwick.

I was standing on the edge of a vast, snow-covered courtyard.

High stone walls, black as obsidian and taller than any skyscraper, boxed me in. They stretched up into a sky that was a swirling, bruised purple, devoid of stars.

And hanging in the center of that impossible sky was a moon. A massive, bloated moon the color of a fresh wound.

It bathed the world in blood-red light.

Snow fell around me.

"What…" I whispered, my voice breaking.

I turned around.

The tunnel I had run out of was gone. Behind me was just a solid wall of black rock, smooth and unbroken.

Panic washed over me. I spun in a circle.

To my left, towering spires of black architecture pierced the sky. It looked like a cathedral built by nightmares.

To my right, a frozen forest stretched out, the trees black skeletons against the red snow.

"Where am I?" I choked out.

The cold was intense here. It bit through my wet clothes instantly, turning my skin numb. I clutched my bleeding arm, shivering violently.

Then, I heard the sound.

It wasn't the Butcher. It was heavier. Metal on stone.

I looked across the courtyard.

Two figures were marching toward me.

They were tall, easily seven feet. They wore full suits of black plate armor that seemed to absorb the red moonlight. Their helmets were fully enclosed, with narrow visors shaped like V’s.

They carried halberds, long spears with wicked, curved axe blades at the top.

"Hey!" I yelled, waving my good arm. "Help! Please! Someone was chasing me!"

They didn't break stride. They moved with a synchronization.

"You're trespassing," one of them boomed. His voice sounded like grinding stones, amplified by the helmet.

"I… I got lost," I stammered, backing away. "I came from the tunnel… there was a man with a knife…"

They stopped ten feet away from me.

The one on the right tilted his head. He sniffed the air. A long, loud inhalation.

"Blood," he growled.

"Yes," I said, holding out my injured arm. "He cut me. I need a doctor. Please."

The guard took a step forward. His posture changed.

"Fresh," the other guard whispered. "Hot."

The visor of the first guard slid up.

I stopped breathing.

The face beneath the helmet was pale. But it was the eyes that froze me.

They were red. Glowing, burning red, just like the moon above.

And his teeth.

When he smiled, his lips pulled back to reveal fangs. Long, needle-sharp fangs that glistened in the cold air.

"A stray," the vampire said. "Wandering into the Wolf's Den."

He didn't look like a police officer. He didn't look like a helper.

He looked hungry.

"Stay back," I whispered, backing up until my heels hit the stone wall behind me.

"She smells divine," the second guard said, lifting his visor. He had the same red eyes, the same predator stare. "The King won't miss a stray."

They advanced.

I looked around for a weapon. A rock. A stick. Anything.

There was nothing. Just snow and stone.

The adrenaline that had carried me this far suddenly evaporated, leaving behind a crushing wave of exhaustion and blood loss. My vision swam. The red moon seemed to pulse, expanding and contracting like a beating heart.

The first guard reached for me. His gauntlet was tipped with claws.

"Please," I whispered.

The darkness at the edge of my vision rushed in. My knees buckled.

I slumped to the cold stone, the snow soaking into my jeans.

The last thing I saw before the world went black was the guard looming over me, his mouth opening wide, ready to tear.

And the last thing I thought was: Gary is going to be so mad I’m late for my shift tomorrow.