Without A Heartbeat

No one came to collect Scarlett for classes the next morning as they usually did. When she pulled herself away from her memories and opened her eyes, she saw that a folded note had been slipped underneath her door. Climbing out of bed, she picked up the paper and opened it, frowning down at the message.

Scarlett, please come to my office at noon. We have an important visitor.

Regards,

Henry.

Scarlett waited as the clock hands carved away slices of time, stepping out of her room at five minutes to the hour. She walked down the network of white corridors, not seeing a single person coming in the other direction. The whole Rebirth Clinic felt still and quiet, as if everyone other than her had been spirited away. Scarlett reached Henry Marlowe’s office and knocked on the door, feeling apprehension curl through her.

“Come in.”

Scarlett stepped inside and was surprised to see Faru sitting on the same chair she had when she first arrived at the clinic. He stood up and gave a welcoming smile. “Good afternoon, Scarlett.”

“Good afternoon, Faru,” she replied.

Henry was sitting behind his desk, his interlocked hands resting on the open pages of her ledger. “Please, take a seat.”

Scarlett settled on the chair next to Faru, and the Huntmaster sat down at the same time, resting his hands on the arms, which were still cracked from her outburst weeks earlier. The wall had been repaired, a patch of fresh paint standing out from the rest.

“Have I done something wrong?” she asked, staring between the two men.

“Oh no, on the contrary,” said the Huntmaster. “I have been speaking with Henry here about your convalescence and I must say, what he has told me has been most encouraging.”

Henry gave a smile. “Scarlett, your time here is almost at an end. You have recovered better than we could have hoped considering your situation. That is not to say that you do not still have problems. You were bought here quite late after your change and as such, some of your traumatic experience will have a permanent effect on your personality. Specifically, you will always be more prone to anger than many other Bloodlings. However, with the techniques we taught you and time, it is Doctor Hudson’s and my belief that you can effectively manage that side of your personality.” He flicked through the ledger. “Everything else, such as your urge control, sense awareness, emotional acceptance,” he glanced up, “and particularly combat skills, are all exemplary.”

Are they telling me I can go? Scarlett could feel excitement building inside her. “You said my time here was almost at an end. What other training do I have left?”

“No more training,” said Faru. “The time has come to test your abilities.”

“Test?”

“A few years ago, a series of tests known as the Blood Trials were created and built below this clinic at the behest of Sage Blackwood and under the approval of the Alliance,” explained Henry. “They were designed to test those who felt that they had what it took to become a Guardian to their limits.”

“It has now become accepted practice that all those who wish to join the Alliance must undertake a set of great challenges first,” continued Faru. “For example, with awakened humans it is the Trials of the Chosen. With Bloodlings it is the Blood Trials.”

“But I don’t want to join the Alliance!” insisted Scarlett. “You said that I could go home!”

“And you can,” said Faru in an appeasing tone. “However, the Sage has requested that you complete the trials to prove your capabilities before he will support any claim I make to the Magistratus about you being recovered enough to return home. In this instance I am inclined to agree with him. We need to be sure not only that you can protect yourself and utilize your new abilities, but also that you have enough control over your own instincts to mix with humans without risk. In effect, we need to prove that you have returned to being you. The trials will be all the proof we need.”

“What…what do I have to do?”

“I wish I can tell you, unfortunately I cannot. All I can tell you is that they will take place over the course of three days. During that time you will be deprived of blood.”

“I need blood to survive!” Scarlett gasped.

“Yes you do, but three days is not enough to cause you serious harm, just affect your decision making abilities. It is when you are at your most desperate that we need you to perform,” said Henry.

“What happens if I fail?”

Faru glanced at Henry. “That depends in which way you fail.”

Scarlett wasn’t sure what the Huntmaster meant, but she didn’t like the look of his expression at all. She shrugged. “I mean if I have to quit or lose a challenge or something.”

“Then you will remain here.”

“For how long?”

“As long as it takes.”

Scarlett only became aware that she was biting her lip when she tasted the coppery tang of blood in her mouth.

“We have every faith in you,” said Faru. “The Blood Trials are very difficult, but you are more than competent. Trust your instincts and I have no doubt you will succeed.”

Scarlett glanced nervously at the Huntmaster. “When do the trials begin?”

Faru stood up and gestured towards the door.

“Now.”

*

Scarlett stood in an antechamber underneath the clinic, staring across the threshold of a dark passageway. Flickering torches lined the stone walls, creating yawing shadows in the spots the light could not reach. The ceiling of the preceding room was made from arched bricks like the tunnels inside the London Underground.

Four items stood on a circular table. Henry picked up a black chain first, which he linked around Scarlett’s wrist in silence. Next he retrieved an ornate urn. A mound of fine powder sat inside the dish section, which he lit with a match from inside his jacket pocket. As the flame started to burn a sweet scent filled the room and a coil of smoke rose up towards the ceiling. Henry handed the urn to a confused Scarlett.

“Inhale this and commit the scent to memory,” he commanded. She did as he asked, breathing in the rich aroma and remembering the smell. Henry pointed towards the claustrophobic corridor. “Ahead lies the Convolution. It is a labyrinth, and in the centre of it stands an identical urn to the one you are holding now, burning with the same Blackshade powder. Blackshade has a burning time of twelve minutes.” He checked his pocket watch. “Of which, two have already gone. Your task is to use your senses to navigate through the Convolution and find the urn before the flame burns out.”

Nervousness bloomed in Scarlett as she stared down at the urn in her hands. You can do this; they have trained you for it.

Henry moved past Faru, who had his arms folded behind his back and was watching them both silence. The Bloodling picked up a knife and Scarlett hissed as he sliced it across her palm, drawing blood. He tapped his fingers against the wound and raised them to his nose.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Preparing to track you.” Henry pointed at the chain on her wrist. “After three minutes I will enter the Convolution and begin to search for you. If I manage to get that chain from your wrist, you lose.” Taking the urn back from Scarlett, he returned it to the table and gestured at the maze entrance. “There are doors at random points, some which serve as shortcuts through to the centre...some which don’t. You can use any of them to escape me, as I am not permitted to use them.”

Scarlett could feel her apprehension growing and she absently fiddled with the chain on her wrist. Faru gave her a nod of encouragement.

“One more thing,” said Henry, picking up a handful of a crystalline powder from a pot on the table. “You will be using your ears and nose, not your eyes.” He blew the substance at Scarlett and she shrieked as spots appeared in her vision. They grew larger until she was completely blind.

“Come with me.”

He guided Scarlett towards the Convolution and then she heard the hollow sounds of her footsteps as she was pushed inside.

“Go.”

She rubbed at her eyes, trying to clear the powder, but it made no difference. Fear started to fill her up as she stretched out her hands in the darkness.

Calm down and take control. You know how to use your other senses.

Reaching out both hands, she pressed against the sides of the wall and moved forward, slowly at first, but gaining speed as she pictured the time ticking away on Henry’s stopwatch. The stone was rough and uneven under her fingertips and she used it to guide her forward. That was until she felt it break away, as it split into multiple passages.

Taking a deep breath she searched for the scent. It bloomed in her mind and gathered behind her like a mental shadow. No, that’s the wrong one. She kept breathing, searching as hard as she could. Come on, come on! A faint version of the same scent clutched onto the air she took in. There! She darted to the left and down another passageway. The sweet aroma grew stronger, calling to her from the depths of the maze like the voice of a siren.

As she moved down the path, she rapped the knuckles of both hands against the wall, using the solid sound to search for a shortcut. In her mind she pictured Henry Marlowe preparing to enter the Convolution.

I cannot allow myself to fail.

A hollow clunk filled her ears. Scarlett stopped knocking and moved both hands over to a smooth surface. Pressing against it, she gasped as the section gave way. Scarlett stumbled through the door and collapsed into the opposite wall, grazing her face against rough stone. Swearing under her breath, she stood up and spun around, disorientated.

It seemed as if the scent was coming from everywhere. She walked in one direction and inhaled as deeply as her lungs would allow. Amongst the earthy tang of damp rock and stale air, she caught the scent of the Blackshade, burning somewhere further within the maze. She doubled back and did the same thing.

It’s stronger this way.

Scarlett started to feel more confident. In her time at the clinic, Henry and Doctor Hudson had taught her how to trust all her senses and as the initial shock of being rendered temporarily blind subsided, she allowed herself to let her instincts guide her. Moving as fast as she dared, she swept her hands down the walls. Taking corner after corner and running down a seemingly endless number of passageways, Scarlett never deviated from the path that drew her closer to the source.

A presence entered the Convolution. Scarlett stopped dead in her tracks, her ears pricking up as heard the sounds of footsteps.

Footsteps that were growing closer.

Breaking into a sprint, Scarlett raced through the maze, knocking into walls as the passageways turned at sharp angles. The source of the noise grew louder and she caught Henry’s smoky scent. He was so close she felt like she could reach out and touch him.

“Try harder, Scarlett!” he called, his voice booming through the maze.

No! No!

Scarlett moved as fast as she could, her boots kicking up chips of stone and her fingers scraping against the walls as she tried to escape her pursuer. The girl’s shoulder collided with something hard and she stifled a shriek as she fumbled in darkness. Her hands met flat stone and she realised that the path split into opposite directions. Only the right hand direction held the strong aroma of the Blackshade.

Her nose told her it also held Henry Marlowe.

Scarlett steeled herself and ran to the right regardless, praying for a shortcut. The sound of the air whipping past her ears was deafening as she used her arms to propel herself forward. A cough filled the area in front of her and she skidded to a halt as she felt the presence of Henry right in front of her.

“Big mistake,” he said.

Scarlett lurched in the opposite direction, hearing Henry give chase behind her, his boots drumming against the stone. Stupid, stupid, Stupid! She moved faster than she had ever moved in her life. In her mind she imagined Henry’s hands reaching out and grabbing her, bringing the trials to a swift end. The passageway seemed to stretch on for an eternity until all at once it stopped. Scarlett crashed into the end and tipped forward as a door burst open, tearing off its hinges and collapsing to the floor. Throwing her hands out in front of her Scarlett felt pain shoot up her wrists as her palms jarred against the wall beyond.

“Very lucky,” called Henry from behind. “Use your advantage wisely.”

Scarlett rushed to the right, pressing her trembling hands against the walls and inhaling as she ran, trying to recollect the scent.

It wasn’t there.

“No please,” she groaned as she kept pushing through the utter darkness. She found another door and stepped through as quietly as she could, closing it with fumbling hands. It was when she turned that she caught the trails of the scent and hope reignited in her chest. The sounds of Henry’s footsteps started up again from another direction and she rushed away from them, using her nose to guide her and hands to keep herself upright. The passages kept splitting and Scarlett was forced to stop several times to chose a new route, a cold sweat breaking out on her skin, as the threat of Henry loomed closer. The Convolution was impossibly large and the smell of the burning Blackshade started to grow weaker.

It’s burning out.

Scarlett raced down a sloping pathway that twisted around itself and opened out into a large space. Scarlett felt around, but her hands touched no walls. Racking her brain to understand, she lurched to the left and felt her hands hit a sharp corner. Going back on herself she felt the same thing in the other direction. A crossroads, she thought with dismay. The sound of thundering footsteps echoed towards her from the left. Henry was moments away from her.

Not left and not backwards.

It left two options and both seemed to contain the same faint whispers of the dying aroma. With no other choice, Scarlett took a guess and ran forwards. The pounding of Henry’s footsteps grew louder as he closed in on her and his scent started to overpower the Blackshade. Scarlett desperately threw herself down the pathway, smacking her hands against the walls so hard she drew blood. There were no more doors, no quick escape routes.

If this is a dead-end, it’s over.

The walls started to curve around on themselves, tighter and tighter until they became a spiral that she twisted around. Scarlett felt Henry right behind her, she could hear the loud rustle of his clothes as he ran, could smell the sweat of exertion that poured from his skin. A hand gripped her shoulder and she span, throwing off his arm. There was a grunt followed by a thud as Henry ricocheted off the narrow wall. Gaining a few seconds, Scarlett stumbled forwards, arms outstretched and praying. The smell of the Blackshade grew stronger. So strong in fact, it was if she had consumed it. She could taste it on her tongue.

The walls opened out and Scarlett sensed something just in front of her. She charged forwards and collided with a table, sending something flying from the surface. As she fell, she stretched out her hands, reaching.

Hands encircled her waist, dragging her backwards. Henry sized her wrist and hooked his fingers around the chain. At the same time, Scarlett felt the fingers of her other hand curl around the smooth ceramic of the urn. Closing them tight she pivoted on the spot and shoved the urn into Henry’s chest.

“Stop!”

His hand fell away from her wrist and Scarlett felt the chain settle back against her skin. For a moment there was nothing but silence and Henry patted her shoulder, making her jump.

“Well done Scarlett, you have passed the first trial.”

*

The hunger started to rise inside Scarlett as the second day of the trials arrived. Without blood, her thoughts became murky shadows, hiding behind a fog that had settled over her mind. She tried to distract herself by reading, but her hands trembled as she held the book and the words started to lose meaning. Someone knocked on the door and it took Scarlett a while to respond, using the chair she was sitting on to climb to her feet and trying to ignore the dizziness that swam through her brain.

Henry Marlowe smiled at her as she opened the door. “Good afternoon, Scarlett,” he said. “Are you ready to undertake the second part of your trial?”

I don’t feel ready to do anything, she thought, but gave a nod.

“Very good, please follow me.”

Henry led her through the Rebirth Clinic, which was still as quiet as a graveyard. Even Faru was nowhere to be seen, which surprised her after his active involvement the previous day.

“Where is everyone?” Scarlett asked as they descended a long set of stone steps that took them deep beneath the building. Like the area that had contained the Convolution, the narrow walkway at the bottom of the stairs was old, the air musty and the stone walls blackened and crumbling through the passing of time.

“All other patients have been moved to another section of the clinic,” Henry explained. “We wanted to make sure there were no distractions while you took part in your trials.” He gave her a sideways glance. “Huntmaster Solignis really needs you to pass.” Something in his expression made Scarlett feel uneasy, but she said nothing.

The passageway seemed to stretch on forever, the flickering torches and deep shadows making Scarlett feel as if she were a prisoner walking to her execution. As if sensing her disquiet, Henry patted a hand on one of the walls. “Centuries ago there used to be a monastery where the Rebirth Clinic stands. Secret tunnels like this one were common, so that the monks could escape if they were attacked during times of social unrest.”

“How big are they?” Scarlett asked, forcing her mind to focus.

“The tunnels? Miles long. There are several exits in different parts of London. In fact, their coverage is so great, that much of it will be incorporated into the Nexus over the next few years, as part of my agreement with the Alliance.”

Eventually they passed through a towering archway and Scarlett found herself in an impressive antechamber. Columns ringed the circular room and the floor was made from black marble. Two hulking suits of armour - each holding bowls that burned with powerful flames - stood either side of a towering iron door. The engraving on the door depicted a man with long hair wielding twin spears and standing on a mountain of bodies. Countless more enemies flooded towards him from the horizon, each one running towards certain death.

“Who is that?” asked Scarlett.

“That is Vlad, the Prince of Wallachia, better known as Vlad the Impaler. He was one of the first Bloodlings documented in history, although there were certainly many before him,” explained Henry. “After he was turned he was made leader of a deadly monarchical army known as the Order of the Dragon, during which time he became renowned for his cruelty and the fact that he slaughtered more humans than any other Vampire that has ever lived.”

The girl stared at the engraving in disgust. “I thought both your organisations were about teaching peace and restraint? Why would you allow the honouring of such a cruel man?”

“Vlad is not depicted to be honoured Scarlett, but rather used as a reminder of both the great power that a Vampire can wield and the devastation that such power can cause if not controlled.”

Looking at the image made Scarlett feel nauseous. Is this what I could have become had I not come here? Someone of pure evil who would kill without remorse? She thought of Michael and Lisa, lying broken and savaged by her own hand. Guilt twisted in her stomach. No, I would never allow myself to become that.

“Beyond these doors lies the Gauntlet,” continued Henry. “It will form the longest and most difficult part of your trials, and is designed to test your speed, strength, combat abilities and urge control.” He turned towards Scarlett, wearing a grave expression. “If you fall unconscious at any point, you will fail.” He paused. “I must also warn you, the Gauntlet is incredibly dangerous. There is a very strong possibility that you will die beyond that door.”

Scarlett’s mouth fell open. “Die?”

“The threat of death is a constant part of being a Guardian. I know you don’t desire to become one, but the trials you are taking are the same; therefore you must take the same risks.”

That is why Faru looked so concerned when I asked him about failing. He knew that I could end up dying during my trials. She could not believe that such a kind man would be so callous with her life.

“There is no time limit in this trial. To win, you must simply reach the end of the Gauntlet.”

“And if I refuse?”

He shrugged. “Then I am afraid you will have to stay here until you have the courage to face it.”

Scarlett coiled her hands into fists. She had no option and she knew it. If she were to ever go home and see her family again, this was an obstacle that she would have no choice but to pass.

“Open the door.”

Henry nodded and walked over to it. Wrapping both hands around an iron ring at one end, he pulled with considerable effort. The door gave a groan of protest and swung open. Scarlett stepped over the threshold and stared down a sea of blackness into the unknown beyond.

“Good luck, Scarlett,” he said. Then, pushing his shoulder against the door, he closed it with an echoing thud.

Scarlett stared down the long walkway, letting her eyes adjust to the gloom. Her mind wavered as hunger clawed at her stomach and she shook it away. Focus.

The area in front of her stretched as far as the eye could see. The walls were grey stone and the floor marble, echoing every cautious step she took. Apprehension filled her up as she moved down the long gallery, every part of her on high alert. Henry’s words pounded in her ears.

’There is a possibility you will die beyond that door.’

Scarlett turned to look behind her, the plain rear of the door growing smaller as she moved away from it. There was no turning back, she would either make it through to the other side of the Gauntlet, or she wouldn’t. At least he let me see this time, she thought bitterly.

It began with a clicking sound.

Scarlett froze on the spot, her ears straining to hear. The clicking grew slower as if something were being pulled tight on a winch. There was a distant thunk followed by a high-pitched whistle.

Something cut through the air towards her.

Before she could react, the object smashed into her shoulder. Shrieking in pain, she stumbled and collapsed against the wall. A small wooden stake had buried into her flesh and dark blood boomed like a rose on the white of her petticoat. A wave of dizziness flowed through her as she stared down in disbelief. With trembling fingers, she grabbed the edge of the stake and yanked, hissing as it burst free. Foul smelling smoke curled up from the wound and the edges glowed as if they were embers. With a growl she threw the stake to the floor and then ripped a section of her petticoat away, stuffing it into the deep hole and tying it off.

The clicking started again.

Scarlett snapped her head up. A few seconds later another stake flew towards her. She pressed her back against the wall and it sailed past, thudding against the iron door and clattering to the floor. A horrible realisation dawned on her.

This isn’t going to stop.

Moving forward, Scarlett broke into a jog, trying her best to ignore the searing pain from her shoulder and the ever-present hunger that demanded her attention.

Thunk. Thunk.

Two stakes shot down the passageway, one after the other. Scarlett ducked and avoided the first, only to have the second one scrape against her face. She gasped and clasped a hand over the wound. Her cheek burned as if she had pressed it against a kettle fresh from the fire.

If I carry on like this, I’ll die here.

Scarlett allowed the feral side of her rise and her fangs slipping down from her gums. She started to rush forward, determination outweighing her pain. Two more stakes shot down the passageway. Scarlett pivoted sideways and sent her feet skidding in front of her, using her momentum to hit the floor and slide right underneath the projectiles. Without stopping, she vaulted back up and carried on running. As she raced down the corridor, a new sound began - a deep rumble that came from all around her. The walls shuddered, sending up a plume of dust and dirt.

Then they started to close together.

No!

Scarlett pushed harder, weaving and ducking as the stakes continued to slice through the air towards her. Fear raced through her mind as the walls slowly drew together, narrowing the space. Something thudded into her stomach and she grunted, adrenaline dulling the fire of agony that flared in her abdomen. Another stake flew towards her and she shifted to the side, bumping off the wall and almost tumbling to the ground as it flew past.

Scarlett kept running.

The walls rumbled and groaned as they shifted nearer. Soon they were so close she could touch them with both hands. In the distance she could see the end of the passageway. A series of holes were set in the stone, filling up as they loaded with new projectiles. A small arch that seemed to glow orange stood in the centre, close, but feeling a thousand miles away to the frantic Scarlett.

I’m not going to make it!

Panic drove her forward faster than she believed possible. The corridor whipped past her as she thundered down it, jumping and twisting to avoid the stakes. As the space became narrower, it became almost impossible to dodge them, and she survived death only by raising a hand in front of her throat and allowing one of the stakes to stab through it. The walls started to press against her shoulders and she was forced to turn sideways. She pressed her good hand against one of the walls and screamed as she pushed against it. Whatever was powering them was far too strong and she gave up. A stake whizzed above her head, missing by inches.

Scarlett kept forcing her way through, frantic and petrified as the walls kept closing in. The doorway grew larger until it was only a few yards away. The stone sides bore down on her, pushing against her shoulders with unbelievable force. With a final, desperate effort, Scarlett coiled her legs and used them to launch herself forwards. The walls were so close now, they pinned her in place. Using her working hand, she scrambled sideways along one of the walls, scraping her feet against the stone and screaming. Lurching forwards, she gripped the edge of the wall and her body tumbled through the narrow gap.

Her boot snagged and the world flipped over as she sprawled onto her back. The bones in her foot started to creak as the walls crushed against it. With a shriek of effort she grabbed her leg and pulled. The leather tore and her foot came free of the boot. Lying on her back, Scarlett watched as the walls crushed it flat as they sealed together.

A sob escaped her throat as she curled into a ball by the archway, bathed in the orange glow from beyond. That was only the first part of the Gauntlet and it almost claimed me.

After some time Scarlett forced herself to sit up and compose herself. Firstly she removed her second boot, tossing it at the wall in an act of bitterness. Then she tended to her wounds. The stake in her hand had torn right through her palm and was poking out the other side. Gritting her teeth, she removed it, trying not to look at the sickening hole it left behind. Using her good hand, she tore away more of her petticoat and made a bandage to cover the hole. Lifting her dress she stared down at the stake imbedded in her stomach. Her abdominal muscles were twitching, as if they were trying to expel the foreign object themselves. It took her a while to summon the courage to pull it out, and when she did, thick blood spilled out of the smoking hole. The blood from her shoulder wound had coagulated enough that she was able to transfer the damp rag to the worse injury.

Get up now. Keep going. For them.

As Scarlett passed through the archway and discovered the source of the orange glow, she realised that things were going to get much, much worse.