Gareth couldn't take his eyes off the mangled corpse of his fallen brother.
Pieces of crushed skull and brain matter lay decorating the cold floors of the dark castle.
The blood flowed forward, as if with a mind of its own, toward Gareth's feet. In the pool of blood he saw his own reflection.
His blue eyes appeared hazy, as if lost, and his smooth hair was a mess. His face wore a look of tiredness, like a man on the edge of giving up.
His breaths were slow but steady. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. This was bound to happen. He expected losses, but still, it didn't mean he was ready to accept them.
He opened his eyes and turned his face toward the rest of his comrades.
Mark seemed indifferent to the death of Micheal. He wore a stern, focused look as he placed his twin blades back in their sheaths.
Bjorn's face was covered with beads of sweat. The large man was exhausted. He could barely stand, using Daven as support. The young holy knight did his best to support the obviously bigger man.
In one arm, Bjorn still held the battered shield that had failed to yield to the malicious attacks of the powerful vampire.
He held the shield low as the two moved closer to Gareth, never letting go.
Daven spoke as they got closer. "It's my fault," he said, almost tearing up. "If only I was stronger, we wouldn't have needed his saving."
Gareth opened his mouth to say something, but Bjorn spoke first. "Don't taint his sacrifice with what could be. We are alive, and we have a task to finish." He then turned to face their leader. "Isn't that right, Gareth?"
Gareth nodded solemnly. "Yes."
"Let's push forward. Our light is already leaving," Gareth said, pointing forward to the Arrowhead that had begun to move now that the enemies had been slain.
The cohort continued their descent into Dracula's stronghold.
The Arrowhead led them into a wide hall littered with pieces of furniture—some in good shape, others broken and covered in layers of dust.
The hall was wide and large, with a ceiling that seemed to disappear into the darkness above, where the light could not penetrate.
As the knights began to reach the end of the hall, the Arrowhead stopped.
From the darkness above, a giant figure fell. Gareth and his companions dodged at the last second, barely escaping the creature's descent.
Splinters of broken wood flew around along with clouds of dust, obscuring their view.
The knights pulled out their weapons and stood on guard, watching as the large creature began to unfurl.
The creature towered over them all, with a bat-like face and dark brown skin. It had long, inhuman fangs, large ears, and very long arms that, in comparison, dwarfed the rest of its body.
It stood on two smaller legs equipped with long black claws. Its tiny black beady eyes stared at the intruders. The creature let out a loud cry, and then all hell went loose.
The huge bat lunged for the nearest of the knights. Daven blocked the huge claws aimed at him with his sword, but the powerful attack sent him flying.
He landed in a heap of furniture, breaking them on impact. In his mouth, he could taste blood.
The creature did not stop its attack. It moved forward, smashing through furniture, hell bent on killing Daven.
Mark ran forward, catching up to the beast. He jumped and landed on the creature's back, digging his swords into it.
The creature shrieked and tried to shake loose the rider, but Mark's grip did not come undone.
Gareth used this opening to approach the creature. Without hesitating, he ran close and swung his sword.
Blood flowed as muscle, skin, and bone tore at the precision of his cut. The creature began to fall to its knees at the loss of one of its legs.
Stopping its fall, the creature drove its fist into the floor, breaking the concrete and standing somewhat upright.
Its huge muscles exploded as it launched itself into the air with its remaining three limbs and came down, landing on its back.
Mark let go at the last moment, barely escaping being crushed between the large back of the bat and the hard stone floor.
He rolled for a few meters and got to his feet immediately, coming to stand beside Bjorn, who threw a sword towards him.
The long blade felt unfamiliar in his hands, but Mark was flexible. He brandished the sword and took a battle stance.
The bat got up slowly, noticing that it was now surrounded on all sides.
The creature hissed, baring its long fangs at the knights.
The loud sound of metal hitting metal rang through the air. Mark, using Bjorn's shield and his sword, was calling to the giant monster—calling it toward them.
The creature answered.
It ran forward, burying its huge arms into the concrete and propelling itself toward the two knights.
The bat rammed its huge head into the shield, Bjorn felt the sheer force of the attack in his bones before he was even thrown back.
Mark had dodged the attack and slashed the bat's side, drawing dark crimson blood.
The bat shrieked and swung its arm wide, missing the elusive Mark by a hair's breadth.
Gareth did not miss this chance. Before the creature could return its fist, Gareth's sword was already deep in its stomach.
Inhuman howls escaped the bat's mouth. Gareth winced slightly at the sound attacking his ears.
He twisted the sword and pulled it out quickly, escaping the bat's retaliation.
Without giving it a moment of respite, Bjorn rammed the bat with his shield, and as it struggled to stay upright, Gareth's sword moved again, swinging through the air silently as it cut through the creature's last good leg.
Before the bat's body could touch the ground, Daven ran forward with his sword in hand and dug the weapon deep into its chest.
The creature shrieked and thrashed around violently, letting its cold, inhuman blood splash around the knights, and finally, the creature fell.
Daven walked forward, staring at the dead body, his sword and armor covered with the creature's blood.
He raised his sword up in the air, triumphantly declaring victory over the slain creature.
Gareth smiled weakly. This one was an easier victory compared to what they had initially faced. At least this time no one died.
He turned to face the Arrowhead and began to speak, wanting to signal the rest to press forward, when his eyes went wide with horror.
The Arrowhead had not moved.
Gareth turned to warn the rest.
He was too late.
From above, another creature appeared—this one moving so quickly they could barely make sense of its figure.
It was like the former large bat, but this one was much thinner and possessed wings. Unlike the lumbering beast before, this one darted through the shadows.
It dropped from the darkness and latched its huge black claws protruding from its feet into Daven's armor.
The armor gave way easily and the claws drew blood.
Daven screamed, Mark ran forward and so did Garteh. Both hoping to save their brother.
The creature was faster, it snatched Daven and carried him back to the ceiling.
Screams echoed through the hall, and the chilling sound of bones being crushed and flesh being torn rang through the air, and then… silence.
The knights stared at the darkness, mouths open.
Something fell from the darkness and rolled toward Gareth.
He gripped his sword tightly and watched as the light illuminated the object, and as it continued to roll forward, stopping at his feet.
Daven's head.
His eyes were wide with surprise, and his mouth hung open in a frozen scream of horror.
A silent chuckle came from the darkness.