Beep.
The ambulance wailed, a mournful siren against the night. Inside, paramedics swarmed Billie, their faces grim under harsh fluorescent lights.
"BP's dropping fast," a paramedic barked, his voice tight.
Billie's vision swam. Pain, a constant dull throb, pulsed through his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the rhythmic hiss of the oxygen mask.
Beep. Bzzzt. The tone of the heart monitor sliced through the tension like a scream.
"Pulse erratic."
He remembered the fight, the desperation as he swung the axe, the sickening crunch of bone against metal. A wave of nausea washed over him.
"We're losing him! Need to get him to the hospital, now!" Another paramedic said as he pressed on the knife wound.
"Hang in there!" a paramedic rasped, his hand clasped by Billie's weak grip.
“C-Callista...?" Billie choked out, worry etched on his pale face.
‘Is she safe?’
Before the paramedic could reply, a sudden, bone-jarring crash shattered the sterile urgency. Glass rained down as the ambulance lurched violently, then flipped onto its side. Screams ripped through the mangled wreckage. Dazed, Billie blinked through a haze of pain. The world tilted, the red and blue strobes painting the scene a grotesque nightmare.
A dark figure loomed into view, its face obscured by shadow. Then, a flash of white fangs in the flickering light, a chilling grin splitting the creature's face. "Found you, little Hunter," it rasped, its voice a silky purr laced with malice.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
--
-
.
Callista winced as Indigo's touch grazed the raw gash on her palm, the metallic tang of blood filling the air a stark contrast to the sterile antiseptic of the mansion. Concern laced his voice as he spoke. "Callista, did you truly absorb the celestial blade?"
She gasped, knuckles white on the armrest. The sting of alcohol was a welcome distraction from the frantic hammering of her heart and the cold sweat slicking her skin. An unnatural heat throbbed in her hand, a fire that sent shivers down her spine. Biting back a whimper, she met their worried gazes.
"There wasn't another choice," she rasped.
Damien rumbled, "Didn't know absorbing someone else's celestial weapon was even possible, Callie. Reckless move."
Ignoring him for now, Callista pressed on, her voice tight. "What do you know about shape-shifters?"
Indigo, ever the scholar, his eyes gleaming with fascination, launched into an explanation. "Ah, shape-shifters. Beings with the mystical power of fluid transformation. For centuries, they've resided in the secluded region of Sylvanwood, Eastern Europe. Though, as you know, some do venture out..."
"Can they transform into humans?" Callista cut him off, the throbbing headache that had begun after the fight now pulsing like a drum in her skull. The white-hot pain in her hand intensified, scorching her skin like molten metal.
"No record of it," Indigo mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Transforming into different animals fluidly is a formidable talent. But mimicking humans... well, it's beyond their abilities. Perhaps it's something to do with the intricacies of our form, making perfect imitation impossible."
Sweat beaded on Callista's forehead. She clenched her fist, the heat intensifying. "But Amelia... the way she vanished... it was..."
"Are you alright, Callie?" Damien asked, his silver eyes softening.
"F-Fine," Callista swallowed, Indigo and Damien becoming blurry in her vision. "I... had always found it strange that Amelia's blood scent wasn't... always lingering," Callista gritted her teeth, "As if..."
“As if she isn’t a vampire?” Indigo’s eyes widened. “How could it be? With her golden eyes and-“
“And the way she vanished in battles was different from Eydis,” Callie panted, “Eydis was simply due to her impossible speed but...” Her words trailed off as a deafening screech erupted in her head, a sound that seemed to claw its way from within her very skull.
Agony ripped through Callista, twisting her features into a mask of pure pain. Blinding white light erupted from her core, radiating outwards with such intensity it seemed to push back the very air around her. Callista, gasping for breath, clutched at her chest, a guttural moan escaping her lips.
Indigo and Damien were by her side in an instant, their faces etched with a mix of terror and urgency. “Your power," Indigo rasped, his voice barely audible over the deafening screech. "It's overloading!”
Callista's back arched, a scream tearing from her throat that shattered the sterile silence of the room. For a horrifying heartbeat, her crimson eyes flared an unnatural white, burning so brightly they seemed to devour the already blinding light emanating from within. Then, with a gasp that seemed to suck the very air from the room, oblivion claimed her.
******
Consciousness returned, but the world wasn't as Callista knew it. A white void stretched endlessly in all directions, devoid of features. Panic clawed at her throat. She fought it back, forcing her feet to move.
She walked. And walked. How long had she been walking? Time seemed to lose all meaning in the white expanse. The silence seeped into her like a chill, a physical manifestation of her isolation. Loneliness settled on her shoulders with each monotonous step.
Was this death? Or some purgatory fashioned from her deepest fears?
On cue, a figure materialised — a flash of golden hair, her back to Callista. Not again, not Athena. Fury surged through her, bitter with frustration. Why her? Why always forced to confront this unreciprocated feeling, this weakness that gnawed at her core?
A vision that had invaded her dreams, her mind, suffocating her with its remnants.
But this wasn't Athena. As the figure turned, a face unlike the vampire princess's emerged. It was softer, serene, regally composed yet radiating a quiet strength. An unsettling familiarity tugged at Callista's memory, a connection she couldn't quite grasp.
Her eyes, the exact shade of polished gold Callista knew all too well, held a depth of wisdom and sorrow that resonated deep within her soul. She was clad in a flowing white dress, the fabric seeming to shimmer and shift in the featureless void, as if woven from moonlight itself.
"You have a choice, Callista," the woman said, her voice a melancholic melody. "When the time comes, choose wisely. Trust your instincts. Remember. Remember me."
"Who are you?" Callista rasped, the question tearing from her throat. The woman's smile deepened, but before Callista could get another word out, the woman's form began to glitch, pixels dissolving back into the white void like grains of sand slipping through her fingers.
"Wait!" Callista lunged forward, a desperate plea escaping her lips. Yet, her hand grasped only empty air. A chilling premonition settled over her. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
Breathe. Focus. Not now. Not like this.
She closed her eyes, focusing on the background noise — a constant, low hum that seemed to vibrate through everything. A single point of light, like a firefly, flickered in the vast emptiness. It pulsed in rhythm with the hum, growing brighter with each beat. Soon, the speck wasn't a firefly anymore, but a swirling vortex of pure light.
An irresistible pull, like a giant's hand, yanked her forward. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but she felt glued to the spot, mesmerised by the glowing spiral. Ignoring the warnings in her head, she took a deep breath and dove straight into the light.
The universe fragmented in a blinding fractal of light and darkness. It felt like her very being was being torn apart, then slammed back together in a completely different form.
When her senses finally came back online, she blinked, taking in her surroundings. Gone was the void. Instead, she stood in a picture-perfect garden. Rows upon rows of white roses, almost glowing with an unearthly light, stretched as far as she could see. In the center of this impossible landscape floated a being made of swirling golden light — a living storm of pure cosmic energy.
"At last, child of the hunt." The being's voice resonated in multitudes, an ethereal chorus of feminine and masculine tones woven together.
