Nibiru Vampire Warriors-Chapter Seven

Excerpt From: Nibiru Vampire Warriors Chapter Seven

The angry roar of the crowd surrounding him was reminiscent of the spectators at the arena. And like the weaponless victim tossed into the ring, Zero too was helpless to his fate. The clothing the younger Stride had given him had been stripped from his back, carelessly ripped away whilst people mocked and jeered. The crowd was a full participant in the show in play on the auction block. They had already condemned him.

All Zero could do was squirm to avoid their wandering hands as they inspected and appraised him. He prayed silently that somehow this insane illusion would pass as the others had—before things grew worse. He tried to remember the boring play Stride had taught him, but maniacal cackles filled his ears.

He then tried to focus on the strange hieroglyphics of the Voynich Manuscript Stride had implanted in his brain. For one brief moment, the jeering abated, but then he lost focus. It was too much. He was exhausted. Nothing in all his years of training had prepared him for this.

The crowd’s mocking laughter came back with a vengeance. He cursed the Vampire Queen’s name as the scene became more and more chaotic with blood drinkers and bizarre mortals clamouring to walk off with the prize. Was there no limit to her warped imagination? What next? Was he to be buried alive?

It was Angus who held the chain fastened to the collar around his neck. Each time he gave it a hard jerk, it felt like his head was coming away from his shoulders. "Why are you doing this, Angus?" Zero screamed. "Why? She’s making you to do this…this is not…you."

His words were lost to him, drowned out by the angry recriminations of the mob. Angus couldn’t—or wouldn’t—hear him.

"How much for this blood drinker?" someone bellowed. "What would you pay to have him, to beat him…to peel the flesh from these bones?"

Another jerk with the chain and Zero was on his knees. A collective gasp went through the crowd and Zero looked up. The crowd parted in a wave, bringing up an image of that story about the Red Sea. Hushed murmurs possessed the onlookers and Zero narrowed his eyes.

"Make way for your magistrate!"

Heads suddenly bowed. Some were on their knees sobbing, reaching out to touch the coattails of the ones who stood before them. Zero narrowed his eyes as he saw a swirl of material around high black boots then an angel—a dark angel—only he wasn’t really an angel…yet. It was Stride’s father, so handsome with his broad shoulders and slim hips, his eyes glowing in the moonlight as he settled his gaze on Zero.

And at his side, another appeared and something in Zero wanted to cry out. Stride. There he was—the Stride he knew and loved, yet…there was something in his eyes, hope that still remained, valour, determination. He and his father exchanged a silent look then Stride’s father moved forwards.

"What is his crime, this vampire?" he demanded.

"Murder, Magistrate," someone called out. There were other accusations as well being hurled through the air. "Child killer! Child killer!"