"Geez. That hurt. You couldn't have slapped me a little softer?" "S-Sorry," Joe mumbled. Why were they apologising? Now really wasn't the time - and besides, it had been for a very good reason. Thank goodness Alex seemed to be okay; they needed all the muscle they could get if anyone was going to survive this. They found themselves thinking of Alex's tombstone shield. "Uh! I think- you should protect Derrick! Please!" Wow, smooth. Thank goodness they were still invisible or Alex would've seen them flinching at the clumsiness of their own words. But if anyone could keep Derrick safe it would be a combat specialist like Alex. Or Trisana even, or Samara, who seemed to be- oh holy ****. Samara, with what must have been some help from Andreas (that was one clever move with the water) had taken Vetala's arm off completely. Joe gagged again at the sight of it lying dismembered, oozing black goo. That- that was not from something human. What the hell were they facing, here? When Vetala tore through their clone, they shuddered as the feeling echoed inside of them. At least that trick had worked on her. But would it again? Other students, stronger students, were the ones who could maybe save the day here; Samara already seemed to be readying another attack. The best Joe could hope to do was not die - and maybe, somehow, help. That was when they had one more idea. No choice. It was the best thing they could offer. With a huge effort, Joe conjured the clone again. They weren't used to doing it twice so suddenly, and they weren't sure they'd be able to do it again. Make her mad, they thought, and don't let her get near you. There was just one thing they could do- try to do. But without a distraction, it was probably straight up suicide. Then Trisana provided one perfectly with her glowing sword. At the same time, Joe's clone started calling out more snide remarks. "Nice move, Lefty! Are a couple teenagers just too much for you to handle? Maybe you should've started with something easier and less threatening, like a fence post. Or a stuffed animal." It was always unnerving when the clone started saying things Joe never would. ...And slightly worrying. But at least it was doing something useful. With Vetala distracted (they hoped, oh **** they hoped) Joe knew it was now or never. Trying not to scream, hoping their pounding heart wouldn't give them away in all the commotion, Joe made a low dive for Vetala's feet. As they fell towards her, they started to phase. Their spell couldn't handle another person, but it could probably take part of them. They fell, grabbed, and dragged, allowing gravity to pull them through the floor - along with Vetala's feet. Sure enough, the spell gave out in about a second, hopefully catching Vetala's feet a few inches into the floor. Joe couldn't tell. When the spell gave out, they were already in the basement below, and heading fast towards the floor.
When Vetala's arm was ripped off, Andreas' yelled "Wahey!", a big silly smile on his face. Everyone else seemed to be pretty disgusted by the black treacle oozing from the severed limb. On reflection, it did look nasty. Andreas liked to think his little nasal enema had made the difference, even if he thought nobody else had seen it. He would keep that one in his secret collection of prides. Anything to keep the terror at bay. So that was his best use then - distraction. But he would save it for a crucial moment. Vetala reeled from Trisana's Very Shiny Sword. Andreas felt for the water in the air, prepared to put the enemy off at the moment she wanted to act. Would he try and drown her? Wash out the inside of her ears? Rub water around in her eyes? Yes, the eyes. That was the plan. Samara approached from behind, and he tried to pierce Vetala's mind, hoping to gleam the moment of suprise or aggression that would mark her response, looking for the cue for him to act. But wait - why wasn't he trying to drown her? He'd already seen her coughing. It was because she was magical and scary, and she couldn't possibly be defeated, so he wasn't trying. That was the stupidest thing in the world. No, he WAS going to drown the bitch. That was when Joe made their move.
At the hospital, Ms Wintersmith peeled herself off the floor and firmly gripped Jake's ear between her thumb and her forefinger. His flesh burned with intense cold, like someone had applied freezing cold pincers to his earlobe. "Take me back right this instant, young man," she demanded, her ice-cold breath blowing against his face. The patients and the nurse behind the desk in the waiting room stared at them with confusion and a little fear. A security guard started walking slowly toward them with his hand on the gun holstered at his waist. At Primrose Prep, Samara snuck up behind Vetala and swung at the back of her head. At the same time, Joe gathered his courage and dove at Vetala, phasing her through the ground. Samara's crystal-armored fist clipped the top of Vetala's head, snapping it sharply to the side, before she sunk through the ground and out of sight. Joe pulled her all the way to basement, where she hung from the ceiling by her hands, completely motionless. Her head was hanging at an odd angle and all the life seem to have left her. But then...her foot started to twitch. Alex cursed. "We have to get down there! Joe could be facing that woman all by himself!" Without waiting for anyone's reply, he sprinted down the hall, displaying more energy and passion than any of his classmates had seen from him, ever. He was always stuck in a book, making the occasion strange remark, but today he was full of action and purpose. The hood of his hoodie had fallen back and he did not make a move to pull it back up, yet another unprecedented event. Outside, they could hear whooping sirens getting closer and closer. One of the teachers or staff had called the police.
Drake grit his teeth with pain. Now he was sure his usually peaceful teacher was not right in the head. It could mean two things, either she was terrified by the thought of that woman would do to his classmates. Or she had brain damage. The situation seemed to be only getting worse. No doctor was in sight, and instead a security guard was walking towards them, hands on his gun. God, he was going to hate himself. He teleported from room to room, until he found one with a doctor, who looked at him woth shock. Then he slapped Ms Wintersmith's arm away, and ran backwards. "Please, doctor," he panted. "Just take a look at her and see if she's alright. It's amatter of life and death."
Joe hit the floor hard, having fallen about ten feet, not noticing in the shock that they'd ceased their invisibility spell. That was only one of the reasons they hated phasing through floors. What the heck had they been thinking? Thank goodness the school had a basement, or they might've found themselves embedded in the foundation without any oxygen. What a dumb way that would've been to die. Speaking of which, what about the others? What if their little trick hadn't worked, and all they'd done was ditch everyone else with a murderer? Then they heard the moan from above. They looked up and collapsed back onto the floor. They'd managed to bring Vetala all the way through with them? This had to be the worst possible time for that spell to outperform itself. No, wait. Her remaining arm was stuck, its hand caught in the ceiling tiles. But how long was that going to last? At least she wasn't moving. Samara must've caught her on the way down after all, thank goodness, and- oh wait, ****, her foot was moving, oh **** she was waking up. Joe stared in terror for several seconds before they could even move. When they did, they'd made it all the way to the basement door and were bashing their shoulder against it before their mind caught up with them. Kick, genius, was their first thought. Except it's obviously locked, was their second. YOU HAVE MAGIC, though, was the one that finally got their attention. They were about to phase through the door and get the heck out of dodge, but then...they stopped. And stayed stopped. What was the right thing to do? Vetala was still dangerous. Once she was awake, she could probably rip her way right out of the ceiling (and right through Joe), and she might come around any minute. There wouldn't be any better time to strike. But wait...did that mean they had to try and kill her? Could they even do it if they tried? Wouldn't that make them a murderer? Joe was pretty sure they didn't have the guts for that. But if she got out of here, what was going to happen? Would everyone else end up like Ms. Wintersmith? Or like Will...? Feeling sick and distant, Joe found themselves glancing around for a weapon. Heavy, rusty pipes lined walls, spiderwebbing out from a door that must lead to the boiler room. We have a boiler room? they thought dimly. Maybe they could phase a pipe off the wall and hope it wasn't full of boiling water? Could their power even be used to cut things like that? Then their eye landed on a hefty wrench tucked amongst some clutter on a worktable. They were barely able to lift it. Athletics were never their strong point, but maybe the weight could help make up for that. It was only by putting all of their insignificant weight into it that they were able to scrape the bench across the floor, putting it almost beside the hanging figure. Vetala was stirring, she was about to come around. With shaky legs, Joe climbed atop the bench and hefted the wrench. They had no illusions about "knocking someone unconscious" with a head blow. This stood a good chance of killing her...if she was anything like a human, anyway. But maybe, somehow, it wouldn't? They felt like they were going to vomit. Maybe they would, after. Standing on the side where there wasn't an arm to protect her, Joe readied. Then, putting all their weight into it, they swung as hard as they could at her head.
Trisana When Joe dragged Vetala through the floor, Trisana was raising her sword high to bring it down on Vetala's head. If there was anything popular fiction had taught her, it was that creatures like Vetala needed to be stabbed through the heart or beheaded, plain and simple. But she missed her chance by a millisecond and staggered forward, her sword clanking on the ground and disappearing in a flash of prismatic light. "Crap!" she growled in frustration. She straightened up and wagged her right hand to get the kinks out of her wrist. Her eyes narrowed as she calculated the risks of a new plan of action. She decided the risk was worth it. "Guys, I'm gonna try something!" Trisana told her classmates. Then she raised her hands and a vibrant rainbow sprouted from her palms, arched high up toward the ceiling, and came crashing down in front of her. The rainbow broke through the floor with a tremendous craaaaash! Broken pieces of tiles, wood splinters, and a plume of dust flew up from the impact. Trisana hope that her rainbow spell was strong enough to break through to the basement, and she also hoped that she hadn't harmed Joe on accident.
Trisana's rainbow did break through to the basement, causing rubble to rain down on Vetala and Joe, just a second before he could bash her head with the wrench. Vetala was lost from sight beneath all the debris, all except for a shockingly white leg, which stuck out from between a chunk of stone and a wooden plank. The leg was snapped in half and thick black blood dribbled from a gash on the opposite side of her knee. The police had arrived outside the school. They had set up a perimeter and all the students heard someone shouting over a megaphone, "Come out with your hands up! The Army has been called and they are on their way! There is no escape!" The megaphone was snatched out of the first person's hand and a new voice boomed through the halls. "This is the Chief of Police, Maddox Reynolds! I don't know how you thought you were going to get away with this, Ilianora Wintersmith, but I will make it my personal mission to put you and all your students behind bars!" Alex, who had only run halfway down the hall, came running back and gasped, "They're pinning everything on us!" Back at the hospital, Ms Wintersmith was giving the doctor an icy glare that made him step back in abject fear. "Um, I'm sorry, but I can't examine someone who does not want to be examined," the doctor told Jake before scurrying out of the room in a panic. Now Ms Wintersmith turned to Jake, arms crossed and foot tapping, a deep chill radiating from her body. "You will take me back to the school, or so help me, I will be forced to hi-jack your powers, young man," she growled. "It won't be pleasant, and it might damage your psyche, but I refuse to stay here while my students are at risk. Now, will you take me back of your own accord, or must I use force?"
Drake Drake raised his arms. He had done his best, now whatever happened would be on Ms Wintersmith. He held her hand and they teleported back to the school. He arrived just in time to see the entire city's police outside. Well, that wasn't a good sign. He looked around and turned to Alex. "Hey, man, what did I miss?"
Without hesitating, Samara dropped through the hole in the floor and began digging through the rubble. "Joe? Joe!" she called out as she clawed at the shattered tiles and splintered wood. "Say something. I'm coming." She didn't care if she dug up Vetala. She didn't even care if the witch was dead or not. Samara hauled away chunks of the concrete the size of small children and tossed them aside, finding strength she didn't know she had. "This is the Chief of Police, Maddox Reynolds!" Samara instantly froze and stood stark still, up to her knees in rubble. Finally, help had arrived! "I don't know how you thought you were going to get away with this, Ilianora Wintersmith, but I will make it my personal mission to put you and all your students behind bars!" Her shouders slumped and she stood there for what seemed like an eternity. The announcement completely sapped her energy... but only for a moment. There was a dangerous glint in her eyes as she shoved aside a piece of mangled steel and stood up proudly. "I should've known better," Samara hissed between her teeth. For some reason, Andreas's voice was in her head. He told them this would happen. He told them this would be the outcome. No, no, she refused to believe that. Cynicism was Andreas's thing, not hers. Justice always wins in the end. Maddox's justice was false justice. The truth would prevail! "I'll go talk to them," she said, to no one in particular. Maybe she was saying it to herself, trying to convice herself this wouldn't be suicide. "I know Maddox. I shook his hand once... about ten years ago... me and, like, a million other people." It was during a charity event at the police station. She begged her mom and dad to let her go, so she could see the real heroes: the police. "I'll go," she said, with slightly more determination this time. "It'll be fine. Drake teleported Miss Wintersmith out of here. As long as she doesn't come back, everything will be fine. They can't pin this on her if she's not-" And that is precisely when Drake reappeared with you-know-who. Samara sighed. "Great. The gang's all here," she said dryly. And then, under her breath, muttered, "chain gang, that is."
Nyx Nyx Asano could, on occasion, be very lazy. Today had been one of those days. She had woken up and realized that she had forgotten to do two of her assignments, not to mention the fact that she had stayed up until two in the morning last night. She wasn't a morning person. So she faked sick, told her mom that her throat hurt, walked around like her muscles could barely support her, and moaned through breakfast until the woman relented and told her to "Get in bed, and I swear, if you get me sick, you're gonna pay." Nyx had given her a weak smile and ambled off to her room. Once she closed the door and collapsed into her bed (so warm, so soft), the fake smile had twisted into a triumphant one. She turned over, pulled her covers up, hugged her pillow, and fell asleep once again. When she woke up, she walked to the living room, keeping up her "sick" facade just in case anyone was still home. She weakly called out, "..Mom?" No one answered. "Hell yes," Nyx hissed under her breath. She grabbed a bag of chips and flopped back onto the couch with a grin. She turned on the TV, and watched some random program for a while. It was brain-numbing, sure, but it helped pass the time. And yeah, she could be making up her work, but... this was more fun. Nyx bit into her chip extra-hard, to fortify her point. Loads more fun. The TV flashed, and then shut off entirely. Nyx furrowed her eyebrows, confused, and got up, muttering, "Goddamn television... I'm always telling Mom to get a new one..." She smacked it on the top, hard. With a flicker of artificial light, the old TV sputtered back on, to a local news channel. "--dox Reynolds has called together the entire police force to confront Ilianora Wintersmith, local teacher, in light of a new murder. Take a look for yourself. Here's Christy Kilgrave, live at the scene." "Thanks, Jo," said a solemn little blonde reporter. "As you can see, the citizens and even the Police are calling for these spellcasters' imprisonment." There was chanting. It was all hateful, and blameful. The people wanted blood. The police, the people who were supposed to protect them, wanted blood. "Come out with your hands up!" Someone shouted into a megaphone. "The Army has been called and they are on their way! There is no escape!" Then the Chief of Police himself stepped up. He grabbed a megaphone from one of the protestors, and yelled into it, hateful and angry, just like the rest of them. "This is the Chief of Police, Maddox Reynolds!" he roared, spittle visibly flying out of his mouth. "I don't know how you thought you were going to get away with this, Ilianora Wintersmith, but I will make it my personal mission to put you and all your students behind bars!" The crowd roared in agreement. Nyx's hand flew to her mouth. She was properly speechless, and absolutely terrified, for the first time in a long time. "Shit!" The word slipped out, shaky and panicky. "Shit, shit shit, shit, SHIT!" Nyx's hand fell. "They're after me. They're after all of us! Oh my god," she whispered, running a hand through her hair. "I'm garbage. I'm absolute garbage, why couldn't I have just gone to fucking school, I could have helped--" No. She could still help. That crowd wasn't counting on "one of those spellcasters" to come up from behind. She could cut through the mob, and if she was lucky, she could scare them off with a little "sparky sparky magic", and their class could take Miss Wintersmith away, and they all could go away. Drake could teleport. Everything would be fine. With that thought in mind, Nyx threw her bag of chips at the television, and ran out the door. Put us all behind bars, huh? she thought. Lucky for us, I've never been a rule-follower.
The wrench was only halfway through its swing when the ceiling exploded. Later, Joe would feel more relief about that than anything else. Whatever else had happened, they hadn't wound up with blood on their hands. Well, not Vetala's, at least. Their own was another matter. They had no notion of any time passing. One moment, everything was noise and falling plaster. Then something hard struck the back of their neck. The next thing they knew, everything was dark and cramped and painful. Liquid was running down their back, that was probably blood. Okay, definitely blood. It wasn't likely to be, like, orange juice in this context, was it? Ha. They weren't making much sense, were they. Their head was pounding in a distant, dull way. No, wait- Some of that pounding was coming from outside their skull, wasn't it. "Joe? Joe! Say something. I'm coming." That sounded like Samara. Joe tried to rasp something out, but it was mostly just an inarticulate grunt. There was too much pressing down on them; they couldn't get enough air. Wasn't there something they could do about that? Way too slowly, they phased themselves out. The rubble collapsed through them, exposing a thin shaft of light. Joe pushed towards it with an effort. Their concentration kept slipping. But Samara kept talking, so they just kept on following her voice. "...Everything will be fine. They can't pin this on her if she's not-" A pause. Joe hesitated. Then she was back. "Great. The gang's all here." Then they started registering. The sirens. The bullhorn. This sounded bad. They'd probably freak out about it in a minute. Assuming they didn't suffocate, or wind up crushed... The phasing spell was fading fast. Joe pushed towards the light.
Trisana Trisana was ready to jump down into the jagged hole after Samara, but she halted when she heard Chief Maddox shouting over the megaphone. She listened with wide eyes as he called out Ms Wintersmith and then vowed to take her down, along with all her students. For a moment Trisana was terrified, like a rabbit that was cornered by foxes, but then she thought, Ms Wintersmith's first name is Ilianora? Hmm, interesting. Very elegant and regal. It suits her. She snapped out of her thoughts with a jolt. This is no time to get distracted, Tris! Keep your eye on the ball! She peaked down into the basement and was relieved when she saw that Joe was emerging from the pile of rubble like a ghost. He looked pretty shook, but he would be fine. One less thing to worry about in a whole goddamn sea of worries. Holding out her hand, Trisana conjured her Shiny Sword again. She turned to Ms Wintersmith with a stony expression. For once in her life, Trisana looked serious. Murderous, even. Those cops would have another thing coming if they thought they were going to hurt her, or anyone else she cared about, without a fight. "Do you have a plan, Miss?" Trisana asked the teacher. "Maybe someone could create a distraction so we could quietly sneak out the back door?" She knew it was a desperate plan, but they were desperate after all.
Drake "Do you have a plan, Miss?" Trisana asked the teacher. "Maybe someone could create a distraction so we could quietly sneak out the back door?" "Why sneak?" Drake said dryly. He was beggining to understand the situation. And he didn't like it. "I can teleport us all, well, one by one at least. Anyone knows a good place to hide?"
Ms Wintersmith looked about with wild eyes the moment she appeared, blue light blazing from her hands. When she saw the crooked white leg sticking out of the rubble in the hole, she blinked in surprise, and then gave her students a look of appraisal. "I'll be darned!" she exclaimed. "I thought you would need my help, but apparently you kids can handle yourselves. But this isn't over yet. Vetala is an ancient vampire, a demon of the highest class, and special rituals must be performed to completely destroy her. You can fight her all day, but unless you do the ritual, she will always come back." Ms Wintersmith scowled down at the hole. "Like a demented jack-in-the-box," she grumbled angrily. "I can teleport us all, well, one by one at least. Anyone knows a good place to hide?" "Not so fast," Ms Wintersmith cut in. "I don't think any of you understand the gravity of the predicament we are in." "I do," Alex panted. He was still a little breathless from running. "I've read a lot about vampires. There are two kinds: tame and feral. Tame vampires only feed on willing victims, or animals. They can control their base instincts. Feral vampires act on all their animalistic urges. They have no self control and will kill without a second thought. Vetala is definitely feral." Ms Wintersmith blinked in surprise, yet again. "That's absolutely correct, Mr Wilder," she concurred. "And that's not even the whole picture. You see, Vetala has the power to corrupt the minds of mere mortals, to stoke the fires of their dark desires, and I believe she has been working her voodoo on the citizens of Taggerton. She has been pushing them to rally against me. If you're wondering why she would go to so much trouble to hurt your magic teacher, it's because I have had dealings with her before in the Old Kingdom. I am personally responsible for capturing her and turning her in to the Lawkeepers, which is what we call police in the OK. Somehow, she must have escaped and come here. That leaves us with a huge dilemma: only a powerful psychic, or a stronger vampire, can undo her enchantment. Otherwise, the citizens of Taggerton will become more and more bloodthirsty, until the whole town is destroyed." "So, that means they don't really hate you, right?" Alex asked. "They're just under Vetala's spell." "Sadly, that is not the case," Ms Wintersmith said with a heavy sigh. "She can't make people do things they don't already want to do. She can only stoke the fires and push them into action. The citizens of Taggerton really believed in their hearts that I was behind the missing teenagers. But there's something else, something even more disturbing: Vetala should not have been able to cross the Border Wall. Deep magic is placed on it to keep people from breaking through. Tunnels can't be dug underneath it and nothing can fly over it. This can only mean that the Wall is failing...which does not bode well, to say the least." She narrowed her eyes and bunched her hands into fists. "I know what I must do. I must take Vetala back to the OK to be destroyed, figure out what is wrong with the Wall, and find someone to help me undo Vetala's enchantment before Taggerton descends into madness." At that moment, the pile of rubble exploded and Vetala shot up out of the hole in the ground. She flew up to the ceiling and stuck there, upside down, like a demonic lizard. Her broken leg shivered and snapped back into place, the wound healing over as if it had never been. Then her detached arm flew up and sealed back onto her shoulder. She hissed at all of them and started scuttling along the ceiling toward a vent.
Nyx For once in her life, Nyx was glad her mom signed her up for sports. She never would have made it to the school by foot otherwise. She was just lucky that they lived somewhat close to Primrose Prep, or else she would be out of luck. Nyx skidded to a stop behind the crowd and gulped in huge breaths to calm her racing heartbeat. The crowd was so much louder in person. Maddox was still shouting things, assorted threats and arrogant comments. "Oh god," she breathed. She didn't think this through. There were too many people, how the hell was she going to "scare them off"? Shut up, and get going. Don't think. You do best when you improvise, remember? Right. Right. Okay. She could do this. Taking another deep breath, she darted through the crowd, snatching her own megaphone from someone. "Aaaay! Look at this nice gathering!" she shouted with a huge grin once she reached the front of the mob. She turned around to face them. The crowd looked apprehensive, yet curious. "Beautiful day, isn't it? Wonderful time to be protesting a respectable woman?" "She's a murderer, and she's teaching our children to be the same!" a balding man yelled. "Well, sir," she said, dangerously calm. "I can guarantee that she, in fact, is not a murderer. I can also say, with certainty, that I am not a murderer, either. But hey, I'm not afraid of a little physical harm." Nyx raised a hand, and a ball of sparking electricity formed. The crowd gave a collective gasp. Some people took a step back. A few, including that balding man, took a step forward. "They're intimidating us into silence! We can't let this continue!" he shouted. "They'll keep killing our kids with their damned witchcraft if we let this continue!" Nyx's eyes widened fractionally. She was losing control of the crowd, and sustaining the sphere of electricity was draining her. "You need to leave!" she yelled, dropping the megaphone. She didn't need it. "Leave, or I'll make you!" The ball of electricity flickered out. Shit, shit, shit, she thought. Threats without something threatening were empty and desperate. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage with a renewed fury. "Those students are going behind bars, starting with her! Remember what the Chief said!" the balding man roared. "Get her!" "Shit!" she shouted out loud. She had long since carefully schooled her expression into one of determination, but inside she was absolutely terrified. The neighbours were already scared of her, with the recent... developments. All those kids, dead. But now, they were actually after her. Nyx focused like she never had before, thanking whatever higher being there was that this was a cloudy day. A huge ball of electricity, much bigger than anything she had ever created before, built itself up, and waited in her palm. Nyx hurled it into the air and ran like she never had before, hoping to reach the refuge of Primrose Prep. Panicked, she looked back, and saw the crowd surging forward with renewed courage. Someone screamed. Hopefully, that was the lightning ball finding its mark. Run, run, keep running, she repeated to herself. The door to the school was getting closer. She flew to the door and flung it open, and threw herself inside. The adrenaline of the past few minutes was draining away, and she felt so tired. Just make it to your classmates, she thought, then you can rest. She stumbled through the hallways, senseless, until she heard the faint sounds of people talking. Nyx almost collapsed in relief, but somehow kept herself going, moving towards the sound. When she rounded the final corner, she stopped, trying to process the scene in front of her. The ceiling had collapsed entirely, and Joe was standing there on top of it all, blood running down their arm. They were swaying back and forth, looking completely exhausted and ready to fall over. In fact, everyone looked exhausted and battle-weary. All of a sudden, the rubble exploded, and all Nyx could do was stumble backwards, falling into the wall. A woman, who could've once been beautiful sprung out and somehow... attached herself to the ceiling? A leg that looked broken snapped back into... a not broken state, she supposed, and an arm flew across the room, streaming black blood, and reattached itself to the woman's shoulder, tendons and nerves weaving themselves together once again, and her wounds stitched themselves back together until her skin was flawless and beautiful. She may be homicidal, but wow. She's nice looking. Nyx shook away the thought. She was also terrifying and was hanging from the ceiling like a bat. That's not what a human does, and honestly, bleeding black blood wasn't either. The woman hissed at them all and started crawling towards a vent. "Oh, no, thanks," Nyx said. "Sorry, I'm too tired to deal with this." She pushed herself from the wall, and held up her hand. A few sparks of electricity stuttered above her open palm, but nothing actually formed. "Damn it!" she whispered. She was gonna have to use her focusing spell. Fine. With a rush of power, she felt her focus switch entirely to forming a sphere of lightning. And slowly, a spark of electricity grew into a medium-sized ball of flickering lightning. Nyx grinned. "SNEAK ATTACK!" she shouted, hurling the ball with all of her energy. Luckily, it hit the demon-lady square in the rear. "Fuck yeah. Ass shot," she said. She looked over to the class. Why is it that I only miss school on the fun days? Nyx thought deliriously. Out loud, she said, "Oh, hey, guys. How're ya doing?" She swayed on her feet. "I, uh, may or may not have set an angry mob on us, so you know, getting out of here is a priority..." Her words were starting to slur together, and her vision was quickly darkening. "Also, I used too much of my power... and, uh, stuff. Don' let me die. I'm tired. I'mma slee' now." And with that, she collapsed on the floor.
When Joe began to rise from the pile of rubble, Samara attempted to help them up. She reached for their arm but, in their incorporeal state, it was a bit like trying to grab a fistful of fog. "You're really not making this easy, Joe," Samara muttered as her hands passed through them five or six times before she just gave up. They were out of the rubble and relatively safe. Her job was done... right? Wrong! Above them, Miss Wintersmith was talking about vampires and mind control and Vetala not being dead. The wall was failing, the sky was falling, and the world was ending. Samara hesitantly turned toward the pale leg sticking out of the pile of rubble. They had to get that psycho bitch back to the OK and they had to wade through a town of crazies to do it. Never one to procrastinate, Samara began digging Vetala out. Dead vampires don't transport themselves, you know. As if on queue, the pile of rubble exploded and Vetala came flying out, latching onto the ceiling. Her broken and severed limbs began to regenerate. "Okay, you wanna go another round? Let's dance," Samara said as the cracks in her armor began to regenerate. The spikes dissolved and she focused her power, making the crystal thicker. Since she clearly couldn't kill Vetala, she might as well pour resources into her own defense. She stretched her hand toward Vetala and reactivated the focus fire spell she had put on the vamp earlier. When Vetala tried to scurry away, Samara ran up the pile of rubble and out of the basement, arriving where the others were in the hall. "She will not escape. Not as long as I draw breath," she said, amping up the strength of the spell binding herself to Vetala. Samara crouched and grabbed the edge of the hole in the floor to anchor herself. With some help from Nyx's ball lightning --whoa, when did she show show up-- she yanked the bitch off the ceiling and began reeling her in. As Primrose Prep's undefeated tug'o'war champion, her pride was on the line. "Surely there is some way to weaken her or temporarily seal her power," Samara said to Miss Wintersmith, while straining to avoid being dragged away by the vamp. "Is this because she recently fed? There is no way we can get her all the way to the Old Kingdom like this."
Joe's arm and neck were bleeding(and frankly hurt like hell), but at least they could breathe again. Thinking was getting easier, too. They could now process exactly how screwed they all were. "Anyone know a good place to hide?" Joe blinked. They knew about twenty, but how many would hold, and hide, this many people? Hidden ledges and quiet corners wouldn't cover it. They kept thinking about it all through Ms. Wintersmith's explanation. "Uh..." they coughed, and had to take a moment to breathe. "There's kind of a gulley...more like this little clearing in the woods near the OK wall? It's, uh, kind of tucked into this cliff...drop off thing. I keep stuff there, and no one's ever taken it, so it should be safe?" Damn it, they were rambling. Get there. "I think we'd be okay there, for a while. It's pretty far from town, so..." Wow. Well done. Wait, could Drake even teleport to places he'd never been before? "It's um, maybe twenty minutes from that fountain near the edge of town, with the uh, the fish in the middle? But if we run it, uh-" They were cut off by Vetala blasting free and regenerating. Oh, sh*t. Joe hefted the wrench defensively and- Wait, they were still carrying this thing? No wonder their arm was so heavy. Head injuries officially sucked. Nyx made her move before they could do much more than blink. Samara was quick on her heels, up and back into the hall. Joe followed suit as fast as they could. Nyx's passing out almost gave them a heart attack - but no, she was breathing. They tried to shoulder her, leaning on the wrench to help them stand. The crowd outside suddenly sounded a little closer...and a lot angrier. They needed to get out of here now. "Uh! I can't phase a whole other person, but I can keep someone invisible with me? But, I-I really think Drake should start getting us the f*ck out of here right now!"
Drake "Is this because she recently fed? There is no way we can get her all the way to the Old Kingdom like this." "Yeah unless..." he thought for a moment. "Nah, the wall probably stops people from teleporting inside. Besides, I can only go were I've been." He turned to Joe. "But I can take us to that gully. I think. The fountain definately. I spent alot of time there sp- I mean strolling. Definately strolling." He turned to Ms Wintersmith. "Your call miss. By the way, does this thing have any weaknesses we should know of?"
Ms Wintersmith jumped back in fright and landed on her back when Vetala exploded out of the hole. She was still struggling to her feet, cheeks red-hot with embarrassment, when Nyx arrived and lobbed an electro-ball at the vampire. Vetala let out an earsplitting shriek and stopped lizard-crawling, but she did not fall. That changed when Samara used her spell to yank Vetala off the ceiling and reel her in. (Samara need not have struggled so much; Vetala was in too much pain to fight back.) The vampire's startled hsssss was cut short when she collided with Samara's solid, unforgiving armor. "What...kind...of...students...are...you?" Vetala squeaked, obviously in extreme pain. She was stuck to Samara's back, twitching in spasms, her limbs at odd angles. Black blood trickled from her ears, eyes, nostrils, and from the corners of her mouth, staining Samara's armor with dark burgundy streaks. With a weak moan, Vetala's glowing green eyes rolled back into her skull and she passed out, a pointy black tongue lolling out over her full bottom lip. Ms Wintersmith finally got back to her feet when Samara said, "Surely there is some way to weaken her or temporarily seal her power. Is this because she recently fed? There is no way we can get her all the way to the Old Kingdom like this." Drake echoed the same question. "I was trying to freeze her earlier, but she was like a flea, jumping and zipping all over the place," Ms Wintersmith said, trying to casually rub her aching spine. Man, I'm getting old, she thought ruefully. Aloud, she said, "Keep her stuck to your back as long as you can. I'll take her from you once we get to the clearing Joe suggested...and the one that Drake goes to for unspecified, unsavory purposes," she added, giving Jake a disapproving look. "But how will we get home?" Alex asked Ms Wintersmith, raising his hand as if they were in class. "Will Jake take us back one by one?" "I thought I made this clear," Ms Wintersmith said, hands placed firmly on hips. She was all seriousness now, a general leading her troops into battle. Even the planes of her face seemed harder, colder, as if carved from ice. "None of you can remain here, not with most of the town under Vetala's spell. You must come with me to the Old Kingdom." Alex raised his hand again. "Yes, Alex?" "Can I just say you're the best teacher ever?" Ms Wintersmith grinned briefly, but then her eyes turned to a glistening trail of scarlet blood that led into a storage closet. Derrick's heartbreaking sobs carried through the closed door. Her grin quickly faded. "I'm not so sure about that, Mr Wilder," she said in a soft whisper. "I'm not so sure about that at all." It was clear for all to see that she held herself responsible for Will's untimely death.
She expected more of a fight out of the old vamp, but it semed they'd already worn her down. Vetala came sliding toward Samara. She instinctively tried to dodge the bloody, filthy old hag, but focus fire did its job a little too well. Samara couldn't get out of the way. She turned to run and Vetala slammed into her back and stuck there like glue. Ew, ew, ew, ew, dirty vamp. Get it off, get it off, Samara thought, cringing as she jogged in circles, as if she could outrun it. She eventually gave up and stood there, defeated... or victorious. It all depended on one's interpretation. "Keep her stuck to your back as long as you can," Miss Wintersmith said. "I'll take her from you once we get to the clearing Joe suggested...and the one that Drake goes to for unspecified, unsavory purposes." "Yes, ma'am," Samara grumbled and watched helplessly as Alex and Miss Wintersmith spoke, a conversation which ended with their cherished teacher staring solemnly at a trail of Will's blood. "I'm not so sure about that, Mr Wilder," she said in a soft whisper. "I'm not so sure about that at all." "Well, I am," Samara said firmly. "The only reason we are alive right now, is thanks to everything you have taught us. Now it is our turn to take care of you." Someone had to take charge, so she turned to Drake. "Get us underway, Mr. Goldman. Start with the injured. Save Vetala and I for last. Teleport Nyx first, then Joe... and don't do anything weird. Come right back once she is safe, understood?" She gave him a cold look; one of those 'I know what you're up to' looks. Actually, Samara had no idea what Miss Wintersmith was hinting at when she spoke of Drake's 'unsavory' behaviour. But her imagination could fill in the gaps and it filled them with things probably far worse than the truth.
Drake "I was trying to freeze her earlier, but she was like a flea, jumping and zipping all over the place," Ms Wintersmith said, trying to casually rub her aching spine. Man, I'm getting old, she thought ruefully. Aloud, she said, "Keep her stuck to your back as long as you can. I'll take her from you once we get to the clearing Joe suggested...and the one that Drake goes to for unspecified, unsavory purposes," "I go strolling," Drake insisted. Yeah, because you go strolling he thought to himself. why don't you add that you invented the time-stop for academic reasons while you're at it?! "Get us underway, Mr. Goldman. Start with the injured. Save Vetala and I for last. Teleport Nyx first, then Joe... and don't do anything weird. Come right back once she is safe, understood?" "Aye, captain," he saluted, then began to teleport. First he grabbed Nyx, and teleported her to the fountain. Then he went back for Joe, Alex, Trisana, Andreas, and Ms Wintersmith. Finally he came back to Samara. "'Kay now, here's the tricky part." He grabbed Vetala and teleported with just her, as near as he could to Ms Wintersmith. Then he took Samamra.
Joe was surprised how smooth the jump was. They weren't sure what they were expecting; a tunnel filled with light, a peek into another dimension? ...Okay, they'd probably been watching way, way too much Doctor Who. But what actually happened was that one moment they were in the school, the next they were at the fountain. They struggled to take Nyx's weight over their shoulders again, holding her up as best they could with their good arm. "It's this way!" Drake was wasting no time bringing the others. Joe figured they shouldn't either, and started running. The fountain really was right on the edge of the woods; after a short grassy slope leading down around it in a half-circle, it was nothing but trees. Joe lead the way down one of the hiking trails into the foliage. After several minutes of rushing over the hilly path and counting trail marks (Not that one, no, not yet, almost there- Yes!) they dove off the path into a barely visible game trail. A minute later, they left that path as well - seemingly stepping right over the edge of a cliff. Their footstep ended on a hidden ledge, just out of sight and wide enough for one or two people. From there it was an erratic climb and trek to the bottom, just barely manageable by those with an extra person to carry. At the end of it all was an alcove in the rocky hill. Tucked in as it was, it was practically invisible, and the hill above was too steep to climb down anywhere but this concealed path. A deep stream that curved around its edge cut it off from a ground approach. For now, at least, it might keep them safe. Joe laid Nyx down as gently as possible and went to the back of the not-quite-cave. Buried under a stone almost too heavy for Joe to move was an old tin lunchbox with the characters from some forgotten cartoon emblazoned on its front. Joe had picked the container for its durability as opposed to its style - they hadn't intended anyone else to ever see it. Well, maybe no one would say anything. They all had bigger problems right now. The box contained a few packaged snack foods and granola bars, a Swiss Army knife, and a handful of band aids. Not a lot to offer. They hadn't restocked recently. Well, whatever. They pocketed the knife, and grabbed what few snacks and candy there were to pass around (would it help Nyx, when she woke up?). They were pretty sure everyone could use some extra blood sugar after a thing like that. Patching themselves up with the band aids (which were probably insufficient if they were being honest, but they were what they had) could wait until they made sure everyone else was alright. They returned to the others with the food before letting themselves fade to the back of the group. It was no longer a matter of life and death. Now, they could just keep out of it and listen while the others talked. Joe figured they'd used up all their socializing power for a year.
Trisana When Jake grabbed her to teleport them to the fountain, Trisana giggled and leaned into him, forgetting for a moment that they were in a dire situation. Once they made it to the cave, she immediately conjured the Shiny Sword and started searching around for any hidden dangers. "Wouldn't it be morbidly ironic if, after everything we just survived, we all get mauled to death by a grizzly bear?" Trisana commented with a slight grin. Once she was sure nothing was about, she sat on a smooth rock that sorta looked like a stool. She started looking around at Joe's hiding place, imagining what it would be like to live in a cave for the rest of her life. She could drag a fallen log inside to use as a couch. Make a fire pit in the middle of the floor. Cover the entrance with branches and shrubbery to hide it from prying eyes. Forage for berries and nuts and all that. She might even find Mr Whiskers, her beloved cat that ran away to the woods last year when she brought him on a family camping trip. Yeah, living in the woods could actually be kinda nice... But then she thought about where she was going to poop and the whole fantasy fell apart. "I am not using leaves as toilet paper," Trisana said out loud. She crossed her arms and glared at everyone, suddenly in a mood.
As soon as Ms Wintersmith was 'ported to the fountain, she strode over to Samara and grabbed Vetala's wrist in a vice-like grip. "Isa Formatos," she chanted in a fierce whisper. Thick, pale-blue ice enveloped her hand and Vetala's wrist and continued to creep up Vetala's arm to her shoulder and across half her chest. "Hex Permanae!" Ms Wintersmith said. The ice glowed deep blue and hardened until it was almost black. "There," Ms Wintersmith grumbled. She looked visibly fatigued after casting the spell, but her eyes were filled with a fierce determination. "This will bind Vetala to me for as long as need be." Their teacher dragged the unconscious vampire all the way to the cave, creating an ice-slide to get down the cliff, and slumped down in exhaustion just inside the entrance. "I just need to rest my eyes for a moment," Ms Wintersmith mumbled. "Can one of you be a dear and get rid of the ice slide? It'll give away our position." As soon as her eyes closed, she fell fast asleep. Her head drooped to the side and leaned against Vetala's; they both snored quietly as they dozed. Alex immediately found a soft patch of moss and sat on it, took out his book, and started reading intensely. "I need to know more," he muttered to himself.
Samara dispelled her armor before Drake teleported her. It vanished into thin air, as if it had evaportated. His spell required physical contact and she wanted to be extra sure it wouldn't fail. He was working hard and she didn't want to make things any more difficult than necessary. "Thanks," Samara said to him when everyone had arrived safely. She clapped him on the shoulder. "And sorry for bossing you around." She was the last one and was very relieved they'd all made it out alive. Well, not exactly. Will hadn't made it out alive. Derrick would never be the same again. And their problems weren't any closer to being solved. The townspeople were still under a spell. The Wall was still failing. The homicidal vamp who'd started all of this was still very much alive. Samara watched as Miss Wintersmith bound Vetala's wrists in ice and began transporting her, via an ice slide. Normally, Samara would jump right in and help, but instead she just stood there, deep in thought. Her eyes were glassy and emotionless, as if she was staring at something far, far beyond what was actually playing out right in front of her. We could solve this right now. Kill her. Burn the body to ash. Scatter them into the sea. It would be so easy, she thought, picturing Will's body, the trail of blood, and her own mental image of what the angry mob outside the school probably looked like. The voice in her head did not sound like her own. It would be so easy... But, as quickly as they'd come, those dark thoughts vanished. Samara shook her head piteously. She had to be strong. Strong enough to do the right thing, not the easy thing. "Try not to drag her too much," Samara said kindly as she took Vetala's ankles and helped carry her. "She might wake up," she added, as if she needed to explain this small act of compassion. She didn't want them thinking she'd gone soft on the vamp. Of course, Vetala didn't deserve any of it. Fortunately, that's not how compassion works. It is not reserved solely for those who deserve it. Now, justice, on the other hand, everyone gets that. There's plenty to go around. And if you dare wake up and harm a hair on anyone's head, I will personally show you how 'soft' I can be, Samara thought with newfound determination. When they reached the cave, Miss Wintersmith and her prisoner were soon fast asleep, napping side-by-side, like old pals. Samara took a seat opposite them and watched them both like a hawk. "Alex," she said, without breaking eye contact, "is there anything in that book about how to resist mind control? If our guest wakes and I find reason to punch her in the face, I would like to look her in the eyes as I do so."
