The Divergence

Sweet-smelling dark red blood covered the ground beneath the trees, soaking into churned soil and splattering across leaves, stones, and patches of flattened grass. 

The scent of maple and cream hung thickly in the cool morning air, pleasant enough to be completely at odds with the mangled body from which it came.

The vampire twitched.

One pale hand scraped weakly against the dirt, fingers curling before the motion stopped. 

Her slender body had been ruined almost beyond recognition by nearly an hour of fighting. 

One leg was missing beneath the knee, the other twisted unnaturally beneath her.

Her left arm lay several feet away in the grass while the right remained attached by little more than shredded flesh that was already knitting itself back together. 

Her side had been mauled open, ribs shattered beneath torn skin, while her throat had been ripped apart so many times that blood coated nearly the entire front of her black gothic dress.

Her spine had been broken as well.

Normally, none of those injuries would have meant much individually. Even together, they weren’t enough to kill her.

Ten uninterrupted minutes would have been enough for her body to restore itself to the point that she could stand, perhaps less if all she needed was enough mobility to escape.

The wolves surrounding her knew that now.

They had learned quickly.

Every time the vampire’s body repaired enough for movement to return, one of the enormous wolves lunged forward.

Claws opened her side again, jaws crushed into a shoulder, or teeth closed around an arm and pulled until regenerated tissue tore apart. 

They didn’t allow her enough time to recover, endlessly interrupting the process until regeneration became little more than a vicious cycle.

Heal.

Tear.

Heal.

Break.

Heal again.

Her perception had eventually begun failing under the sheer accumulated trauma. The wolves could see it in the delayed movements of her empty red eyes and the increasingly weak reactions whenever one of them approached.

She was conscious sometimes, unconscious others, slipping between the two states too rapidly to mount another meaningful defense.

All five wolves remained transformed.

They had learned something else during the fight as well. A werewolf in human form could fight a vampire, but it wasn’t favorable. 

Vampires were slightly stronger and faster, and the difference became painfully obvious when exchanging blows directly. 

In wolf form, however, their bodies weren’t constrained by human proportions. Four legs gave them different leverage, their jaws could exert tremendous force, and their speed increased enough to make keeping pace considerably easier.

One wolf alone still would have been in terrible danger.

Together, they had managed.

The horizon brightened.

None of them needed to look toward it to know what was coming.

The vampire did.

Her head shifted by perhaps an inch, silver hair dragging through the dirt. Sticks and leaves had tangled throughout the long strands, and blood had dried portions of it together. Her empty red eyes struggled to focus toward the gradually brightening horizon.

Then the first ray of sunlight reached the blood.

A thin wisp of smoke curled upward.

One of the wolves stepped back instinctively, gold-green eyes narrowing as the patch of dark red blood began to blacken. 

It didn’t merely dry beneath the sunlight. It burned, tiny traces of flame flickering across the surface before the blood crumbled into black residue.

More sunlight stretched between the trees.

It reached the vampire’s fingertips.

Her pale skin reddened almost instantly.

The wolves stared.

They had heard what sunlight did. Everyone had by now, but hearing about it and watching it happen were very different things.

The redness deepened, spreading beneath her skin before turning black. Smoke rose from her fingers as the flesh charred, and several seconds later, a tiny flame appeared.

The vampire moved.

It was barely anything, just a weak pull of her hand toward the shadow beside her body, but it was enough to make the nearest wolf tense. 

Her damaged shoulder shifted, regeneration still desperately trying to reconnect muscle and bone while the sunlight destroyed her from the opposite direction.

The wolf lunged before she could recover any further.

Its jaws closed around her forearm.

A sharp jerk ripped the arm away again, and more sweet blood splashed across the ground.

The vampire’s lips parted.

No scream came out.

Her throat hadn’t repaired enough for one.

The wolf dropped the severed arm and backed away as sunlight crept farther across the ground. It reached the vampire’s wrist, then what remained of her forearm, slowly consuming her as the morning advanced.

The other wolves watched in silence now.

There had been excitement earlier. Rage too. During the fight, they’d been surrounded by snarling, impacts, torn earth, snapping jaws, and the impossible speed of a creature that had repeatedly sent them tumbling whenever she managed to land a clean strike.

Now the vampire looked fragile.

The same slender creature who had fought them for nearly an hour couldn’t even drag herself a few feet into the remaining shade.

The sunlight reached her elbow.

Smoke thickened.

Flames crawled upward.

The black dress resisted for a moment, pristine fabric stretched over a body that was simultaneously repairing and burning beneath it. Then the material itself began to fail. 

Small holes appeared where the sunlight touched, widening as fire burned through the fabric and exposed blackening flesh beneath.

The vampire’s body jerked.

Her remaining leg scraped against the ground.

For several seconds, regeneration seemed to gain enough ground for her spine to partially reconnect. Her torso shifted, and one trembling hand pressed into the soil.

The wolves immediately moved.

One slammed a paw onto her back.

Another caught her shoulder between its jaws.

Her body collapsed again.

The vampire’s fingers clawed at the ground, leaving shallow furrows before becoming still.

Sunlight reached her shoulder.

Then her neck.

Her silver hair began to burn wherever the light touched it, individual strands curling and vanishing as the scent of maple and cream changed. 

The sweetness remained, but now it was mixed with something scorched and bitter.

One of the wolves circled closer, watching with gold-green eyes as the sunlight finally touched the center of her chest.

The reaction was immediate.

The vampire trembled violently.

Not the weak twitching from before. Her entire body seized, back arching slightly despite the shattered spine as smoke poured from beneath her dress. 

Flames appeared along the ruined neckline and raced downward across exposed skin.

Then the trembling stopped.

Her body relaxed.

The wolves waited.

For several seconds, nothing happened except the steady spread of flame. One of them cautiously approached, lowering its head and sniffing toward the motionless vampire.

Another followed.

The vampire’s body suddenly ignited.

The wolves jumped backward as fire raced across her with startling speed, spreading from her chest into portions of her body that sunlight hadn’t directly reached. 

Flames swallowed the remnants of her limbs, swept across her face, and raced through the silver hair still lying in shadow.

Then, almost as quickly as the fire had erupted, it went out.

The black gothic dress collapsed inward.

There was no body beneath it anymore.

Ash drifted upward on the morning breeze, fine gray particles scattering through the trees while heavier remnants settled into the ruined clothing. 

Her dress lay partially burned and empty against the ground, surrounded by tattered socks and damaged boots. 

Blackened patches marked every place where her blood had been exposed to the rising sun.

The scent of maple and cream lingered.

Burnt now.

Wrong.

For a time, none of the wolves moved.

Eventually, bones began shifting.

Fur receded. Limbs changed proportion, muzzles shortened, and paws became hands and feet as the wolves returned to human form one after another. 

Five people stood where enormous animals had been moments earlier, every pair of gold-green eyes fixed on the same patch of ash.

One of the men breathed heavily before a grin spread across his face. He reached over and slapped the person beside him on the shoulder.

”Next time will be easier,” he said with a laugh. ”We know how to fight them now.”

A woman beside him smiled broadly. ”Keep them from healing and wait for sunrise.”

”Sounds easy when you say it like that.”

”It worked.”

That drew several laughs.

The tension that had accumulated throughout the fight finally broke. Someone cheered, and another answered with a howl, quickly joined by the others.

The broad-shouldered man standing slightly ahead of them didn’t join immediately. He stared at the empty dress, his gold-green eyes following the last few particles of ash as they floated away.

They had killed a vampire.

Something the government forces they’d encountered had struggled repeatedly to accomplish.

He turned toward the others.

”We won because we stayed together,” he said, raising his voice enough to cut through the laughter. ”Remember that. Alone, any one of us could’ve lost. Together, she couldn’t beat us.”

The others quieted.

The Alpha gestured toward the ash-covered ground. ”That’s what matters. Vampires are stronger. They’re fast. They heal from almost anything you do to them, but they’re not unbeatable.”

One of the women nodded. ”She almost got away twice.”

”And she didn’t,” the Alpha replied. ”Because every time one of us went down, someone else was there. That’s how a pack survives.”

A smile slowly spread across his face.

”As long as we have each other, we’ll win this fight.”

The response was immediate.

Cheers rang between the trees, followed by howls that carried through the forest as the newly risen sun illuminated the remnants of the vampire they’d killed. 

None of them paid much attention to the burnt dress anymore.

They had already begun talking about the next fight.

───

Several tens of miles away, sunlight touched the exterior of a sprawling gothic manor.

The interior remained dark.

Heavy curtains covered every window, shutting away even the faintest trace of morning. Tall chandeliers remained lit throughout the entrance hall, their warm artificial glow reflecting from polished floors and dark wooden railings.

Two vampires stood near the bottom of the grand staircase.

One had long pink hair gathered into a high ponytail with a black ruffled ribbon, though several loose strands framed her pale face. 

Her empty red eyes remained fixed on the enormous ornate doors at the far end of the entrance hall.

Beside her stood another vampire whose long black hair fell into twin tails over her shoulders. 

She appeared calmer, her expression softened by a faint smile as she watched the pink-haired vampire stare toward the entrance for what had to be the hundredth time.

The pink-haired vampire shifted her weight.

”Genevieve hasn’t come back.”

The black-haired vampire didn’t answer immediately.

”Adeliza?” The pink-haired vampire finally tore her eyes away from the door. ”Do you think something happened to her?”

Adeliza smiled and reached over, poking her lightly in the cheek.

Sybil blinked.

”You worry too much,” Adeliza said. ”She probably got caught somewhere when she realized sunrise was too close. Maybe she found a basement or an abandoned house. We’ll see her tonight.”

Sybil’s lips curled into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her empty red eyes. ”I’m still worried. Humans keep coming after us, and the wolves keep trying too. Every time we get away from one group, someone else finds us.”

Adeliza lowered her hand. ”I know.”

”We should’ve left sooner.”

”We’ll leave tonight.”

Sybil glanced back toward the doors.

Adeliza stepped closer and lightly bumped her shoulder against hers. ”When the sun sets, we’ll find Genevieve first, and then we’re leaving. No arguments, no waiting another night. Fighting humans and werewolves at the same time with only three of us is exhausting.”

”Not literally,” Sybil murmured.

Adeliza stared at her.

Sybil’s smile became a little more genuine. ”You know what I mean.”

”I do, and I’m choosing to be offended anyway.”

A quiet laugh escaped Sybil, and for a few seconds, the tension in her expression eased. She looked toward the door one final time before turning toward the staircase.

”Wake me if you hear anything.”

”If Genevieve comes knocking on the door in broad daylight, I’ll be extremely concerned.”

”Adeliza.”

”I’ll wake you.”

Sybil nodded before heading upstairs. Her footsteps were nearly silent against the carpeted stairs, pink ponytail swaying behind her until she disappeared around the upper landing.

Adeliza kept smiling until Sybil was gone.

Then the smile vanished.

Her empty red eyes returned to the front doors.

She stood completely motionless.

One minute passed.

Then another.

Her hands slowly curled into fists.

How could she not know?

Genevieve didn’t lose track of time.

None of them did.

A human could become distracted and glance at a clock only to realize several hours had disappeared. Vampires didn’t have that luxury where sunrise was concerned. They could feel it approaching. 

The closer dawn became, the more persistent that awareness grew, an instinctive warning embedded deeply enough that ignoring it required conscious effort.

Genevieve would have known.

She would have returned.

Or she would have warned them.

Adeliza stared at the doors as though doing so might somehow make them open.

Nothing happened.

Since the First Divergence, the three of them had been fighting almost constantly. 

Not because they’d wanted to conquer anything, and certainly not because they’d decided humanity was their enemy from the moment they changed.

Their government had made that decision for them.

The first attempts to arrest them had become gunfire. Escaping the soldiers sent after them had brought more soldiers. 

Every confrontation made the next one worse, and then the werewolves became involved.

There were so many more wolves.

The three vampires could win individual fights, especially at night, but there was always another patrol, another group, another pack. 

Humans pursued them during the hours when the vampires were awake and searched for their shelters during the day.

Werewolves could fight them directly and had numbers the vampires simply didn’t possess.

For nearly two weeks, the three of them had managed.

Nearly two weeks.

Until today.

Adeliza’s nails extended without her noticing.

They pierced her palms.

Dark blood welled around her fingers and ran slowly down her wrists, but she didn’t react. The wounds closed continuously around the nails, only to reopen as she squeezed harder.

Maybe Genevieve had found shelter.

Maybe she’d been forced farther away.

Maybe the wolves had chased her somewhere and she’d hidden before sunrise.

There were dozens of explanations.

Adeliza believed none of them.

”If we’d left last night...”

Her voice sounded small in the enormous entrance hall.

They had talked about it.

They had considered abandoning the country entirely, crossing the border and continuing until they reached somewhere that didn’t immediately answer their existence with soldiers and wolves. 

They could have left the manor behind. It was only a building, no matter how strangely comfortable it felt to live there.

They could have flown.

Genevieve would have been with them.

Adeliza’s legs finally gave way.

She slid down against the wall beside the staircase until she sat on the floor, black dress pooling around her legs. 

Her hands slowly loosened, nails retracting as the punctures in her palms vanished without leaving so much as a mark.

The sun was fully above the horizon now.

Even if Genevieve was perfectly fine, she couldn’t return.

Adeliza knew that.

She understood it completely.

Yet her empty red eyes remained fixed on the ornate doors anyway.

Waiting for them to open.

Adeliza,

Sybil,