Sarah didn't move for a full ten seconds. Just listened. Just stayed quiet.
Footsteps above. Heavy. Spreading out. The vampires from the fourth floor were searching room to room.
She looked at the red strings again. They didn't lead to the fourth floor. They went higher. Pulling taut through the ceiling. Whatever was controlling those vampires—it was above her.
Fifth floor.
She found stairs at the end of the hallway. Concrete. Cracked. She climbed.
Each step creaked. She kept her pipe raised. Purple energy flickered weak—she was tired. But she kept going.
The strings got thicker as she climbed. Darker. The red ones now had veins of black running through them. Like arteries. Like something alive.
Fifth floor landing. A single door. Metal. Locked.
Sarah looked at the strings. They went through the door. Under it. Around it. Like the room was breathing them out.
She didn't kick it. Too loud. Instead, she looked for another way. A window at the end of the hall. She climbed out onto a ledge. Crawled. Wind pulled at her hair. The drop below was nothing but shadow.
A broken window on the other side. She slipped through. Inside, a room. Bigger than the puppeteer's. Candles everywhere. A chair in the center. Facing away from her.
The red strings—dozens—came from that chair. From whoever sat in it. It was hard to see. Even their shadow faded into the darkness.
Sarah raised her pipe. "I know you're there."
The chair turned.
A woman. Pale. Older than the others. Her eyes weren't black—they were red. Glowing. Strings poured from her chest like spider silk. Red with black stripes. Some went down (to the vampires below). Others went out the windows (to God knows what).
"No strings on you," the woman said. Her voice calm. "That's interesting."
Sarah didn't answer.
Just studied from a distance. Her movements were casual, like a friend. No string above her, but a yellow aura clung to the woman.
"I felt my puppeteer die. Then my soldiers went to clean up. But you... you're not dead." The woman tilted her head. "And you can see my threads. And smart enough to evade me."
Sarah tightened her grip. "I can see all of them. I'm also more than just smart."
"Hmm." The woman stood. Slow. Tall. "That makes you dangerous."
"I've been told."
The woman smiled. No warmth. "You killed my errand boy. You're in my building. And the sun is down." She cracked her neck. "I should kill you where you stand."
Sarah got ready to swing.
"But," the woman said, "I have a better idea."
She raised one pale finger. A single red string extended from it—toward Sarah's chest.
Sarah stepped back. "Don't."
"I'm not going to control you. Just... a conversation." The string hovered an inch from Sarah's heart. "See what you're made of."
Sarah's mind raced. If that touches me... does she own me? The yellow light around her grew—maybe a sense of trust—but there was something underneath that trust.
She didn't get to decide.
A crash from below. Gunshots. Screaming—not human.
Kínitos.
The woman's smile faded. "Your friend is causing trouble."
But then Sarah saw something else. A thin blue string. Barely visible. It stretched from her own chest—west. Toward the window. Toward where Kínitos had fallen.
The string vibrated.
And she heard him.
"I'm sorry, Sarah, there's just too many," said a staticky Kínitos.
"You can hear him?" said the woman. Then the ground shook as if an earthquake.
Sarah used the distraction. She swung the pipe.
---
Kínitos
He was exhausted.
His hands barely sparked blue. The two vampires from the alley had caught up, joined by three more. Zombies formed a loose circle—waiting. The gray strings on their chests pulled toward the building, but the puppeteer was dead. They were just... standing. Confused.
But the vampires weren't confused.
The lead one stepped forward. "Give up, boy. You're alone."
"I'm sorry, Sarah, there's just too many," Kínitos whispered to himself.
"No, don't give up! Look around! I mean it!" said a broken-up Sarah.
A blue string connected to him stretched out to a building. The building full of danger. The building Sarah was in. He had to help her.
"Yes, ma'am. I got you," said Kínitos with a small smile.
Kínitos looked around. His back was against a rusted sedan. To his left, a fire hydrant. Red. Rusty. Old.
Water.
He grabbed the pipe from his belt—the same one he'd used in the alley. No energy left to coat it. Just metal.
The vampire lunged.
Kínitos dropped to the ground. Rolled. The vampire's claws scraped the car door. Kínitos swung the pipe—not at the vampire. At the fire hydrant.
The metal hit the bolt. Once. Twice.
The third time—CRACK.
Water exploded.
A geyser shot up. High. Pressurized. The vampires screamed—not from pain, but from surprise. They stumbled back, shielding their faces. The water wasn't holy. It wasn't sunlight. But it was wet, and it was forceful, and it knocked two of them off their feet.
Kínitos didn't wait.
He ran.
Zombies reached for him, but the water sprayed their faces, made them slip on the wet asphalt. He slid past them. Grabbed a fallen trash can lid—used it as a shield. Batted away a rotting hand.
He was free.
"Okay, I wish I could shoot that fire, but it's too dangerous. My ability works best when I'm touching it, but the rock worked. Unstoppable on what?" he said to himself, his ankle killing him under the weight of his running.
"Okay, water spreads and is fast, wide, but not movable. Yes, of course," said Kínitos.
He rounded the corner of the building. The back side. Darker here. No streetlights. But he heard something—a spigot. Attached to the building wall. A hose coiled next to it.
Bingo.
Kínitos grabbed the hose. Twisted the knob. Water gushed out—weak at first. Just a normal hose.
The first vampire rounded the corner.
Not strong enough, Kínitos thought.
He looked at his hands. Barely any blue energy left. But he didn't need coating. He needed something else.
Unstoppable.
His paradox. The one he'd barely used. Immovable let him stop mid-air. Unstoppable let him... push. Through anything. Go through anything. That's just what he needed.
He gripped the hose nozzle. Closed his eyes. Felt the energy shift—not coating the water, but the concept of the water. Making it unstoppable. Math flooded his mind: the shape needed a perfect cylinder, the length of which was long.
The hose shuddered.
Then it screamed.
A jet of water exploded from the nozzle—thin, white, blinding. Not like a garden hose. Like a laser. Like something that could cut steel.
Kínitos aimed at the vampire.
"A little water don't hurt no vampire—that's fictio—" He couldn't finish his sentence in time.
The water hit its chest. And kept going. Through the chest. Out the back. Through the brick wall behind it. Through the car parked on the street. There was no blood; it got pushed. The vampire crumpled over. A giant hole where its chest used to be, spilling and dripping. Intestines scattered across the ground.
The vampire didn't scream. It just... came apart. Top half sliding off bottom half. Then both halves dissolved into mist.
Kínitos stared. "Holy..."
More vampires. Three of them. Charging from the left.
He swung the hose.
The water laser cut across their bodies like a blade. One, two, three—bisected. Torsos falling. No blood. Just ash and mist.
It works.
Kínitos grinned. Then he started spinning.
He turned in a slow circle, hose held out, water laser extending in a perfect ring. The arc swept through the crowd—zombies first. Dozens of them. The water hit their waists, their chests, their necks. They didn't fall. They separated. Upper halves sliding off lower halves. Gray strings snapping like cut wires.
Thirty zombies. Maybe forty. Gone in three seconds.
The remaining vampires scrambled back. Two tried to run. Kínitos adjusted the angle—the laser caught their legs. They tumbled. He finished them with a quick flick of the wrist.
One vampire got smart. Circled around behind him. Lunged.
Kínitos didn't turn the hose. He just... splashed. Released the nozzle pressure for a second—a wide spray of unstoppable water droplets. The vampire's face got peppered. Holes littered his face, making him unrecognizable. It hissed, clawed at its eyes, confused. That was all Kínitos needed. He brought the laser back around and cut it in half.
Nothing left. Just wet asphalt and fading mist.
"'Wish I new that," he said his own breath out running him.
Kínitos lowered the hose. His arms shook. The unstoppable energy drained him fast—worse than coating. But the street was empty. No zombies standing. No vampires hiding.
He looked up at the building. Fifth floor. Purple light flickered.
"Sarah!" he yelled. "I cleared the bottom! Get down here!"