The Rapture

“You are stronger than you know, Evie.” A voice within reaches out to me.

The cool earth beneath me offers a stark contrast to the memory of searing sunlight. My body, a tapestry of wounds, slowly begins to mend, a cruel reminder of my weakness. Above me, Arlo lays motionless, his unconscious form a heavy weight on my chest.

The grate that once barred our escape lies discarded nearby. He must have broken free in a desperate bid to shield me from the sun's wrath. The realization twists my heart, a knot of guilt and gratitude.

His once vibrant features are now etched with pain. Angry red welts mar his chest and arms, each one a silent accusation. His dark hair, once so full of life, now frames a face etched with exhaustion. Tears well in my eyes, threatening to spill over. I trace the lines of his face, memorizing every detail, every imperfection made beautiful by his sacrifice. "I'm so sorry, Arlo," I whisper, my voice choked with emotion. "This is all my fault."

The shadows lengthen, stretching across the damp earth, a silent testament to the passing hours. With a surge of renewed determination, I push Arlo's limp body off of me, wincing as the sun's rays sear my exposed skin. A desperate plan forms in my mind.

Maybe, just maybe, I can save him. If I can get him to the shadows, perhaps his body will start to heal, the regenerative powers of his vampire blood finally able to work their magic.

I maneuver his body carefully, positioning him against the furthest edge of the shadow cast by the cell wall. I huddle beside him, my own body curled protectively around his, trying to shield as much of him as possible. The sun's heat is relentless, but a glimmer of hope flickers in my chest as I see his wounds begin to knit themselves closed, the angry red welts slowly fading.

A wave of unease washes over me as I sense the presence of other auras nearby, flickering red auras moving freely in the daylight. They must have some form of protective clothing that shields their auras from the sun's harmful effects. The realization sends a chill down my spine. We're not alone in this forest, and not all of them may be friendly.

The hours crawl by, each an agonizing testament to my helplessness. I watch as Arlo's skin slowly mends under the shifting shadows, my wounds throbbing in protest. The sun's relentless heat is a constant reminder of the danger we're in, but I cling to the hope that nightfall will bring us respite, a chance to escape.

As the sun begins its descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and gold, I make a silent vow. If Arlo isn't strong enough to move by then, I'll carry him myself. The thought fills me with both dread and determination. I won't let Alistair win. I won't let him take Arlo from me.

The shadows lengthen, stretching across the damp earth, a silent testament to the passing hours. With a sigh of relief, I pull away from Arlo, my body aching but my heart lighter. His breathing is steady now, his skin almost completely healed. The shadows have worked their magic, and the sinister taint that once clung to his aura has vanished.

But he remains unconscious, the ordeal having taken its toll. I brush a strand of his dark hair from his forehead, my fingers lingering on his cool skin. "Come back to me, Arlo," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. "Please."

As the last vestiges of daylight fade, a subtle shift occurs in the surrounding forest. The flickering red auras I sensed earlier begin to retreat, moving purposefully back toward the mansion. "Shift change," I mutter to myself, a glimmer of hope sparking amidst the worry. This is my chance.

With renewed strength coursing through my veins, I push Arlo's limp body out of the hole, scrambling out after him. I try to rouse him, but he remains stubbornly unconscious. Panic claws at my throat, but there's no time to waste. I have to get him back to the mansion before Alistair realizes we're gone.

I attempt to lift him, but his weight is overwhelming. My muscles scream in protest, the memory of the sun's torture still fresh. Desperation fuels my determination. I won't leave him here. With a grunt of effort, I begin to drag him through the forest, the weight of his body a constant reminder of the stakes.

The forest floor is a battlefield. Every step I take sends a jolt of pain through my body. The sun's rays, piercing through the canopy, leave a trail of agony on my exposed skin. Blisters rise and burst, only to heal moments later in the cool embrace of the shade. It's a relentless cycle, a cruel dance with the dying light.

Arlo's weight is a heavy burden, but I refuse to let him go. His unconscious form sags against me, his breath shallow and uneven. Each labored inhale is a reminder of the time slipping away, of the danger we're still in.

I push onwards, my legs heavy and leaden. The mansion looms in the distance, a fortress of shadows against the fading sunset. We're so close, yet the journey feels endless. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, sends a wave of panic through me. We're vulnerable, exposed.

But I won't let fear consume me. I focus on the path ahead, on the promise of safety within those walls. I won't let Alistair win. I won't let him take Arlo from me. Not now, not ever.

The mansion looms before me, a gothic silhouette against the twilight sky. I gently lean Arlo against a wall, careful not to disturb his slumber. My heart thumps in my chest, a frantic drumbeat echoing the urgency of our situation. Time is running out.

I press my face against the cool glass of the first window, straining to see through the dark tint. The room beyond is dimly lit, shadows dancing in the candlelight. A group of vampires lounge on plush sofas, their laughter a discordant melody in the otherwise silent night. This isn't the library.

Moving to the next window, I catch a glimpse of a long dining table laden with decadent food. Blood-red wine shimmers in crystal glasses, and the air hums with the low murmur of conversation. But Alistair isn't there. Not yet.

Finally, I find it. The library. The moonlight streams through the tall windows, illuminating the familiar shelves and the priceless Monet hanging on the far wall. The room is empty, a silent sanctuary waiting to welcome us back.

A surge of adrenaline courses through me. This is it. Our way out. I grab Arlo, his form surprisingly lighter than before. A flicker of hope ignites within me - I must be regaining my strength.

The window yields to my touch, its hinges protesting with a faint creak. Heart pounding, I carefully maneuver him through the opening, my muscles straining under the effort.

With a final heave, Arlo is safely inside the library. I follow quickly, closing the window behind me, the cool night air replaced by the musty scent of old books and polished wood. Relief washes over me, a fleeting moment of triumph amidst the chaos.

The mansion is a maze of dimly lit corridors and shadowy corners. I move as swiftly as I dare, my aura a radar sweeping the darkness, alert to any lurking presence. The weight of Arlo's unconscious form slows me down, but I refuse to leave him behind. We're in this together, and I'll get us both out.

Memories of my time here guide my footsteps. I recall the layout of the mansion and the twists and turns I navigated during my brief stay. With each passing moment, my confidence grows, and my purpose solidifies. I'm not just a pawn in Alistair's game anymore. I'm a fighter, a survivor.

Finally, I reach the familiar door of Arlo's office. It stands slightly ajar, a sliver of light escaping into the hallway. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever awaits us inside.

I push open the door to Alistair's office, finding Alistair and Vivian waiting. Alistair has a slight smile on his face, while Vivian looks displeased at my return. I carry Arlo's body in, settling him gently into one of Alistair's thrones. I take the other, sitting beside Arlo and holding his hand.

"My, my, aren't you efficient?" Alistair's voice purrs through the room. "Back so soon, and with the prize. You continue to impress, my dear."

"I did your stupid task," I retort, my voice firm despite the tremor of fear within me. "Now let us go."

"Not just yet, my dear," Alistair replies, his smile fading. "I still need to figure out what you learned from this test."

"I learned that you're a methodical bastard and all you care about is power," I spit out, defiance burning in my chest. "And I'm not going to be a pawn in your silly games."

His eyes narrow, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "You will be my pawn, Evie. A sacrificial pawn, if I demand it. You'll do what I deem most important for vampire kind, just as I have."

I feel Vivian's eyes on me, her silence a stark contrast to the tension crackling between Alistair and me.

Defiance flares within me, fueled by a desperate need to break free from his control. "I won't be your puppet, Alistair," I retort, my voice shaking but resolute. "I have my own will, my desires. I won't let you dictate my life.”

Alistair, clearly frustrated with the lack of progress, suddenly changes his tactics. He turns to me and asks, "When do you think this test started?"

Fury boils within me. I clench my fists, barely restraining myself. "When you said I had 24 hours to find Arlo, you sick fuck" I reply through gritted teeth, my voice barely controlled.

Alistair's words sting, a cruel twist of the knife. "That is your first wrong question," he declares, a smug grin spreading across his face. "The test started as soon as you left Arlo's apartment building and were being followed."

He continues, his voice dripping with condescension, "You like games. Playing silly games like blindfolds on a date, getting photos of wives. Well, let's play a game, Evie. You get over 50% of these questions right and you win. Less than that you lose."

I glance over at Vivienne, who has remained silent throughout this ordeal. Her eyes meet mine, and a flicker of encouragement passes between us. A spark of defiance ignites within me. I straighten my back and meet Alistair's gaze head-on.

"Fine," I say, my voice steady. "I will play this stupid game of yours and show you that Arlo is a better teacher than either of you." A determined smile curves my lips. "Let's begin."

Alistair leans forward, his eyes gleaming with a predatory intensity. "Every game must have stakes," he purrs. "So here are the stakes for this game."

He pauses, savoring the moment. "If you win," he continues, "you get to leave with Arlo and he can still help you improve your skills."

A wave of relief washes over me. The thought of continuing my training with Arlo, the person who truly understands me, fills me with hope.

But Alistair's next words shatter that hope. "If you lose," he says, his voice cold and final, "then Vivienne will take over as your instructor."

My heart sinks. The idea of being under Vivienne's tutelage, with her strict methods and lack of empathy, terrifies me.

I swallow hard, my determination wavering for a moment. But then I remember Arlo's encouraging words, his belief in my abilities.

"I agree to the terms," I say, my voice firm.

Alistair's smile widens, a gesture that feels more like a predator baring its teeth than a genuine offer of goodwill. "We will not count that first question and say it was a practice round," he announces as if bestowing a magnanimous favor upon me.

"First question then," he begins, his tone sharp and expectant. "How did you escape the bonds you were tied up in?"

I pause, my mind racing. Is this a trick question? How could I possibly get it wrong? And even if I did, how would he know if I lied?

Despite my reservations, I answer truthfully. "I used my aura," I explain, "and convinced two of the men to come to my aid. Then the third attacked them, but he was too late. I was already untied and able to leave while the three of them continued to fight."

Alistair's eyes crinkle at the corners, a chilling imitation of a smile. "Good," he says simply, leaving me to wonder what lies ahead in this twisted game.

Alistair's next question catches me off guard. "What happened to those three men?" he asks, his tone casual.

I stare at him, puzzled. "I don't know," I admit honestly. "I ran away. I didn't see them again."

Alistair remains unfazed, his demeanor unnervingly pleasant. "No worries, Evie," he says smoothly. "This is a test, guess. What do you think happened to them?"

My mind races, trying to conjure a plausible scenario. I consider the severity of their fight and the potential injuries they might have sustained.

"I... I don't know," I stammer, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in my chest. "Maybe they're still fighting? Or perhaps they were badly hurt and someone found them?"

I look to Alistair, hoping for some kind of reaction, but his expression remains neutral, a mask that conceals his true intentions.

Alistair pauses, sensing my unease. "Ok, let's make this question even easier," he says, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

I glance at Vivienne, who looks visibly displeased with Alistair's perceived leniency. She remains silent, but her disapproval hangs heavy in the air.

"We will make this multiple-choice," Alistair continues. "Evie, are those men alive, dead, or some dead and some alive?"

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. This should be simple, but the stakes feel impossibly high.

Alive seems unlikely given the brutality of their fight. Some dead and some alive are possible, but it feels like a cop-out answer.

Dead. The word echoes in my mind, harsh and final. It's the most logical conclusion, the one that aligns with the grim reality of their situation.

"Dead," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Alistair's smile widens, a triumphant glint in his eyes. I can feel Vivienne's frustration radiating off her, but she remains frustratingly silent.

"Good, another question for you," Alistair announces, his voice brimming with satisfaction. "Two for you, zero for me. Now for question three. How did you find Arlo?"

I rack my brain, searching for any hidden meaning in his words. Another seemingly straightforward question, one I can't possibly get wrong. But why? There must be more to this quiz, something I'm not seeing.

I ponder for a moment, perhaps too long. "I found his phone, nearly by chance," I begin, choosing my words carefully. "But it was dead shortly after I called it. But I felt like I was close, so I picked a direction and went off, and by the grace of God, I found his aura."

I wait for Alistair's response, a sense of unease settling in the pit of my stomach.

Alistair's smile returns, a disconcerting mix of amusement and something more sinister. "Very good," he says, his voice smooth and measured. "It's not the complete truth as before, but no lies given. I will give you that one as well. Three for you, zero for me. You are on a roll, my dear."

A chill runs down my spine. His words imply that he's been watching me, monitoring my every move. How else would he know I wasn't telling the whole story? A wave of paranoia washes over me, making me question every decision I've made since leaving Arlo's apartment.

"Now, question four," Alistair continues, leaning in closer. "How did you survive the day?"

His eyes bore into mine, and I can sense a genuine curiosity in his gaze. It's as if he knows the answers to the previous questions, but this one remains a mystery to him.

"I'm not sure," I respond, my voice tinged with a hint of despair. "I found Arlo but was too weak to free him. I had nearly given up all hope, doing everything I could, then I passed out believing that I had failed the test."

My words hang heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the desperation I felt in those final moments. I look to Alistair, searching his face for any sign of empathy, but all I see is an unwavering intensity.

Alistair's unwavering intensity feels like a spotlight, burning into me, demanding more. But before I can respond, it's Vivienne who breaks the silence.

"Did you tell him anything?" she asks, her voice sharp and accusatory. "Did you say you loved him?"

The words are practically spat out, venom dripping from every syllable. It's a level of raw emotion I've never witnessed from Vivienne before, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

The memory of the scorching sun and the agonizing pain floods back, a visceral reminder of my vulnerability. "I... I told him I love him," I admit, my voice barely a whisper.

Confusion mingles with the lingering sting of Vivienne's accusation.

Alistair's smile widened, almost a chuckle. Vivienne's anger radiated, her voice venomous. "There is no love, you stupid girl. He doesn't love you, and you only think you love him. God left this hell of a world 2000 years ago and took love with him. How dare you say you love him when you have no idea of the concept."

He let her finish, then explained with a cruel nonchalance, "Vivienne and I had our own little game going on the side. She, as you can tell, doesn't believe in love. I... well, I like to see myself more as a romantic. So, the way for Arlo to be freed in this one instance of the Sire's Command was for you to profess your love and him to reciprocate. But this question, unfortunately, you didn't get correct, so I must give it to Vivienne. 3 for you and 1 for me."

My stomach churned. Silly games, I thought bitterly. They're playing silly games with people's lives as if they don't matter. A wave of disgust washed over me. How could they be so callous, so cruel? Love wasn't a game, it was... it was everything.

Alistair continues, "So, how did you make it back across the forest with," he pauses, pointing at the unconscious Arlo, "him?"

"After I blacked out, Arlo covered me with his body so that I could heal. When I awoke, it was near twilight, and I carried him as quickly as I could during your guards' shift change. I noticed that you had guards out during the day. I assume there are some items, like the ones you used on me to prevent my escape, as well as ones that allow you to walk during the day."

Very good Alistair claps his hands. “Four for you and 1 for me. Almost about to pass. Must be exciting.”

Here is question 5 he continues, “What do you think would have happened if you didn't get to Arlo in time?”

I think, this feels like an easy question, Alistair told me if I didn’t get to him he would have died. And he does look like he could have died, as I look at him next to me slunched unconscious. I respond, “He would have died!”

Alistair shakes his head. “Maybe but unlikely.” He looks at Alro. “He nearly died actually because you found him.”

“What I nearly killed him how?” I ask shocked and confused.

“Well see if it was just him in the hole he would have only been exposed to the sun during the few hours when it is at its apex. He would have been able to hide in the shadows during much of the day as the hole was 5ft deep.”

“Arlo covering you with his body was forced to stay in the sunlight for much longer than he would have been if you hadn’t been there.”

The pain shoots into me at the realization he nearly died because of me. It must show on my face as I see Vivienne smile at my discomfort. Though it is short-lived Alistair continues, “See his love for you nearly killed him, Evie you are Arlo’s weakness.”

“His weakness?” I mumble at the thought.

“Yes, Evie, Arlo has been soft on you not wanting to put you in real danger like you were tonight. But this life, this world is not soft.” He pulls a surviving tray from under his desk and places it with a thud on top.

What is the score “Vivienne darling?” Alistair asks, though I know he knows it, just him playing more games.

It is four to two lord Alistair. Vivienne hisses.

“Ah, right. So here is the next question Evie.” Alistair says looking at the silver tray he just placed on the table. “What is inside this tray?”

How am I supposed to know that? I shout.

“Now Evie, you know the rules you have to guess.” Alistair reminds me.

“Fine, Fucking French Fries”, I yell back, “I do not care for your little games.”

“You cannot let your anger get the better of you dear,” Alistair claims as he lifts the silver lid of the platter. Underneath are three heads of the people I left in the room at the start of this test.

Shock on my face as I look at them. But Alistair closes the lid again. “Now the score is 4 for you and 3 for me. I wanted to show you this for two reasons. One of the best ways to kill someone is to decapitate them. The best form of torture is to crucify them. Which always brings back good memories.”

“You are sick!” I say to Alistair and Vivienne.

“That is the second purpose of this question. This is about life or death. They failed their task and have been punished for it. Do not fail me, Evie.” Alistair looks at me coldly.

“Now question 8,” Alistair says giving me a thoughtful expression. “Why do I have guards around my island day and night?”

Thinking about it, I feel like it is a trick question, does he? I then reach out with my aura but because of the castle walls, I cannot extend much past the guards around us. I then try to look out the window. But I do not have a good angle to look down only out at the city lights in the distance. Unable to think of anything better, “To protect your island from intruders.”

Alistair looks displeased. “No Evie, no. The first night you were here you should have noticed that there were no guards, I only had them last night and today to watch over you. It is how I know what happened. I told you once before. If you know something assume I already know it as well, and more.”

Vivienne smiles for the first time tonight. She can taste victory. “Lord, the score is four to four now, match point.”

“Indeed my sweet.” Alistair says looking enamored with her, “Last question, what has Arlo been doing for me these past 3 years?”

I smile and notice that Alistair has a puzzled look on his face, and Vivienne still smiling but is more subdued and moves to a pout as I answer. “Arlo has been working for you to spy on me for the last 3 years,” I say confidently.

“Well, well would you look at that he has told her everything Vivienne,” Alistair says.

Vivenee then looks at me with red daggers in her eyes. “Did he tell you how he escaped my grasp in Neo-Edo, how he has been hiding from me all these decades? Maybe he has forced himself to forget. I tried interrogating him but he just looked like he had no idea what I was talking about.”

Alistair looks at Vivienne, “It is ok my sweet. He is here now.” Then turning to look back at me, “Well done my dear you have completed the test. Though you passed just like your rescue mission it was just barely. I will keep my word. You can Arlo are free to leave, but you must take Vivienne with you. This is to make sure Arlo is not going to be going soft on you anymore.”

I go to reject, but sensing my protest Alistair just looks at the tray on his desk. A reminder of what happens to those who do not play his games. Vivienne’s eyes go wide with joy. “Thank you, lord, thank you for reuniting me with my favorite toy, and telling me he was here last week.”

Vivienne then looks at Arlo as if she had won the contest. I can’t help but think that she did.