Chapter 3
Once inside, one can swear they have leapt back in time into a medieval castle. Walls decorated with gargoyles and other creatures, sconces filled with oil and burning brightly, tapestries chronicling history, and a painted ceiling surround rooms containing lustrous gold and silver decorated furniture carved of fine mahogany. Leather bound books lie within great shelving.
What makes this scene even more unnerving is the modern day technology intertwined into the scenery. Electrical plugs on the walls, a computer on a desk, an iPod on a chair.
The larger chair is filled by Segesvár. His pale skin still seems healthy despite its whitewashed hue. A furrow of his brow leaves his snow-white eyes open, peering into the nether of the room. He is tall and bony, giving a hint at his 500 year lifespan, and seems like a worldly and chivalrous old man. A thick Transylvanian accent gives one a hint at his home land. He is the leader of his coven, and elder to all but the oldest of vampires.
To his left is a homely looking girl in a wheelchair. Cassandra's face was settling and warm, highlighted by soft blue eyes and brown hair tied back loosely. A laptop computer threw light up towards her from the table. She was a hacker, typing lightly as if her dexterous hands were weightless. Her brother beside her glanced towards the screen.
His lover, Dannae Mirriam, sat silently beside him; ever unwavering. She was of Romani descent, though she did not know the ways of the gypsy. She was beautiful and independent. A trait passed down from her gypsy father. Her amber eyes were all the brighter surrounded by cinnamon tan skin, and the blackest black hair. Her dagger eyes peered towards the other side of the table.
In the hot seat, Egan Ballard seemed cool under pressure. His shining green Irish eyes were bright despite his crow's feet. Disheveled brown hair draped randomly across his face, intertwining with a long scraggly beard.
Beside her was a mountain of a man. Magnus Drixton had features that could only be described as "sherman tank". Broad shoulders framed a barrel chest, and square jaw. Sloping forehead aside, he was a quick-witted being. A thundering voice betrayed his silver tongue, leaving all assumptions of "cave man" off the table. To his right stood an irate Frenchman.
*BAM* His fist shook the huge table slightly.
"Zerr 'as to be somezing more we can do! She's been inside zerr for a month visout checking in!" yelled Jeane Lambourne. He couldn't help but want to save Ayumi. Peering out behind his words was the obvious pepe-le-pew kind of infatuation he held for her ever since they first met.
A thin moustache lined his upper lip, while a small patch of scruff lined the bottom of his chin. His black hair was slicked back, other than the small piece that dislodged and waved towards his eye. He huffs the hair out of his eye, and punctuates his sentence with a nod of the head.
"Yeah, this was your idea Egan, why don't you figure out how to get her free!?" punctuates Mitzy, always on his side.
"I don't see how this is my fault…"
"Calm down, everyone! Futu-ti mortii mati!" exclaimed Segesvár. "I'm getting tired. Let's all work together here!"
Cassandra interjected timidly, "If I may, I've gained access to maps of the underground holding chambers. Perhaps we could organize a rescue, now that we know where we are going…"
"That could actually work. I doubt she would ever give us up, no matter if they tortured her or not." Gordon continued Cassandra's sentence. "So they would have no idea anyone was coming."
"Yeah, and with the right tactics, we could pull her out without raising a single alarm. Besides, I've been waiting to get a crack at someone from that company. I'm TIRED of how they put their filthy tendrils into matters they have NO right to mettle with." thundered Magnus.
Egan twittered gruffly, "But what about the guards? They are posted in every room. We can get past the detection systems with Cassandra's hacks, but the human element still remains!"
"You just let me at em'." Magnus grumbled.
Jeane blurted, "We can't forget that it was your idea to send her in without our consent. Why do we need to hear what you have to say?"
"Because it was HER idea, too, and she had a once in a lifetime chance to get it done. We had no time to put it through a fucking vote! Stop demonizing me and let's get her back to safety!"
"I guess you might be right. Well let's put something down on paper here."
The coven fell back to their inside voices, and started to converse. Throughout the night, they finished laying down their plan.
The next night, they would go in through a secret hatch used to evacuate CEOs to a helipad. On the way down, there were only two guards to worry about. An easy task.
Further down was a choke point where they would toss a few flash-bangs, and let Magnus and Gordon do their worst. Past that, the security checkpoint leading underground would be awaiting Jeanes word, when Cassandra would hack the switch.
After that, it was a simple matter of bonking a few patrols on the way to cell number 113-A, where Prisoners numbered 4379 and 4392 were held. One Ayumi Hattori, and a man named Daniel Strachan.
The one named Daniel would have a chance at freedom. The covens yearly "good deed".
Once they were retrieved, it was a simple matter of retracing their footsteps to the helipad, covering their tracks while hauling the subdued guards, and hitting the "Orkin" van for a hasty retreat to their mansion in the hill.
There, they would place the guards into the holding cell, giving them a taste of their own medicine. The torture would be a chore, for some, and a treat for Magnus. . .
Once they let out all they could, it would be a sweet treat of real human blood. A happy change from the usual cloned blood they kept on hand in the vault.
Now, they knew what had to be done. It was all just a matter of time now. A matter of time before they would set her free.
The cold stone walls of the rock face were covered with moss and vines, surrounded by dense forest and vegetation. On all sides, an eerie silence blankets the crumbling hill.
Unassumingly h
idden, a stone door sits beside a small window, peering out into the darkness of the midnight forest. This hidden entrance gives no clue to the wildly different interior of the centuries old underground lair within.
Unassumingly h
idden, a stone door sits beside a small window, peering out into the darkness of the midnight forest. This hidden entrance gives no clue to the wildly different interior of the centuries old underground lair within. Once inside, one can swear they have leapt back in time into a medieval castle. Walls decorated with gargoyles and other creatures, sconces filled with oil and burning brightly, tapestries chronicling history, and a painted ceiling surround rooms containing lustrous gold and silver decorated furniture carved of fine mahogany. Leather bound books lie within great shelving.
What makes this scene even more unnerving is the modern day technology intertwined into the scenery. Electrical plugs on the walls, a computer on a desk, an iPod on a chair.
Inside the main chamber is a large table with papers strewn about, surrounded by stern faces, and fangs.
The larger chair is filled by Segesvár. His pale skin still seems healthy despite its whitewashed hue. A furrow of his brow leaves his snow-white eyes open, peering into the nether of the room. He is tall and bony, giving a hint at his 500 year lifespan, and seems like a worldly and chivalrous old man. A thick Transylvanian accent gives one a hint at his home land. He is the leader of his coven, and elder to all but the oldest of vampires.
To his left is a homely looking girl in a wheelchair. Cassandra's face was settling and warm, highlighted by soft blue eyes and brown hair tied back loosely. A laptop computer threw light up towards her from the table. She was a hacker, typing lightly as if her dexterous hands were weightless. Her brother beside her glanced towards the screen.
Gordon Hanseel was clearly of saxon-german descent. Dirty blonde hair and blue eyes surrounded by a weathered face showing years of stress that betray his youthful features. He loved his sister, and wa
nted nothing more than to free her from her wheelchair. Turning her into a vampire was a surprising twist to his internal heart strings. Not only did it NOT free her, it gave her an endless amount of time to dwell on wheels.
nted nothing more than to free her from her wheelchair. Turning her into a vampire was a surprising twist to his internal heart strings. Not only did it NOT free her, it gave her an endless amount of time to dwell on wheels. His lover, Dannae Mirriam, sat silently beside him; ever unwavering. She was of Romani descent, though she did not know the ways of the gypsy. She was beautiful and independent. A trait passed down from her gypsy father. Her amber eyes were all the brighter surrounded by cinnamon tan skin, and the blackest black hair. Her dagger eyes peered towards the other side of the table.
In the hot seat, Egan Ballard seemed cool under pressure. His shining green Irish eyes were bright despite his crow's feet. Disheveled brown hair draped randomly across his face, intertwining with a long scraggly beard.
Beside him, Mitzy Velasquez clearly shared Danna's sentiments, glaring towards Egan intently. She was clearly turned at a very young age. Her doe eyes were brown, though the look on her face said that they should be burning red. Bright purple hair and shining piercings gave her a sinister look, even for her soft features. At the age of twelve, she was kidnapped and sold on the black market as a slave to a man who had a taste for young flesh. Jeane Lambourne saved her from certain life enslavement after being invited to the man's house for a pa
rty of some sort. He was looking for the bathroom, and ended up in the cellar, stumbled upon her holding cell, and they had a talk. He gave her the strength to get back at her captors, and to escape her slaver. He told her where she could contact him afterwards if she wanted to learn the ways of vampires. A few scars from torture and unspeakable acts by her master remain, but she soldiers on.
rty of some sort. He was looking for the bathroom, and ended up in the cellar, stumbled upon her holding cell, and they had a talk. He gave her the strength to get back at her captors, and to escape her slaver. He told her where she could contact him afterwards if she wanted to learn the ways of vampires. A few scars from torture and unspeakable acts by her master remain, but she soldiers on. Beside her was a mountain of a man. Magnus Drixton had features that could only be described as "sherman tank". Broad shoulders framed a barrel chest, and square jaw. Sloping forehead aside, he was a quick-witted being. A thundering voice betrayed his silver tongue, leaving all assumptions of "cave man" off the table. To his right stood an irate Frenchman.
*BAM* His fist shook the huge table slightly.
"Zerr 'as to be somezing more we can do! She's been inside zerr for a month visout checking in!" yelled Jeane Lambourne. He couldn't help but want to save Ayumi. Peering out behind his words was the obvious pepe-le-pew kind of infatuation he held for her ever since they first met.
A thin moustache lined his upper lip, while a small patch of scruff lined the bottom of his chin. His black hair was slicked back, other than the small piece that dislodged and waved towards his eye. He huffs the hair out of his eye, and punctuates his sentence with a nod of the head.
"Yeah, this was your idea Egan, why don't you figure out how to get her free!?" punctuates Mitzy, always on his side.
"I don't see how this is my fault…"
"Calm down, everyone! Futu-ti mortii mati!" exclaimed Segesvár. "I'm getting tired. Let's all work together here!"
Cassandra interjected timidly, "If I may, I've gained access to maps of the underground holding chambers. Perhaps we could organize a rescue, now that we know where we are going…"
"That could actually work. I doubt she would ever give us up, no matter if they tortured her or not." Gordon continued Cassandra's sentence. "So they would have no idea anyone was coming."
"Yeah, and with the right tactics, we could pull her out without raising a single alarm. Besides, I've been waiting to get a crack at someone from that company. I'm TIRED of how they put their filthy tendrils into matters they have NO right to mettle with." thundered Magnus.
Egan twittered gruffly, "But what about the guards? They are posted in every room. We can get past the detection systems with Cassandra's hacks, but the human element still remains!"
"You just let me at em'." Magnus grumbled.
Jeane blurted, "We can't forget that it was your idea to send her in without our consent. Why do we need to hear what you have to say?"
"Because it was HER idea, too, and she had a once in a lifetime chance to get it done. We had no time to put it through a fucking vote! Stop demonizing me and let's get her back to safety!"
"I guess you might be right. Well let's put something down on paper here."
The coven fell back to their inside voices, and started to converse. Throughout the night, they finished laying down their plan.
The next night, they would go in through a secret hatch used to evacuate CEOs to a helipad. On the way down, there were only two guards to worry about. An easy task.
Further down was a choke point where they would toss a few flash-bangs, and let Magnus and Gordon do their worst. Past that, the security checkpoint leading underground would be awaiting Jeanes word, when Cassandra would hack the switch.
After that, it was a simple matter of bonking a few patrols on the way to cell number 113-A, where Prisoners numbered 4379 and 4392 were held. One Ayumi Hattori, and a man named Daniel Strachan.
The one named Daniel would have a chance at freedom. The covens yearly "good deed".
Once they were retrieved, it was a simple matter of retracing their footsteps to the helipad, covering their tracks while hauling the subdued guards, and hitting the "Orkin" van for a hasty retreat to their mansion in the hill.
There, they would place the guards into the holding cell, giving them a taste of their own medicine. The torture would be a chore, for some, and a treat for Magnus. . .
Once they let out all they could, it would be a sweet treat of real human blood. A happy change from the usual cloned blood they kept on hand in the vault.
Now, they knew what had to be done. It was all just a matter of time now. A matter of time before they would set her free.
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