Chapter 15 #5
The cold air hit them like a wall. Smoke and dust rolled low over the grass, mingled with the metallic scent of blood. The noise was unbearable, gunfire, shouting, the guttural sounds of death echoing across the field.
Sam moved first. She slipped behind a soldier, catching him by the collar, and drew her blade across his throat in one clean motion. Blood sprayed across her arm as she shoved the body aside and moved to the next. Corey caught her out of the corner of his eye.
“You still brought a knife to a gunfight?” he yelled, firing two rounds into the line ahead.
Sam twisted her blade from another man’s eye and smirked. “Does it look like I’m lacking?”
Byron was already in the thick of it, his sheer strength a weapon of its own.
He swung one soldier into another, their armour clattering together like broken metal.
A third rushed him, and Byron caught the man’s wrist mid-swing, twisting it until the crack echoed.
He threw him to the ground and stomped hard.
The crack echoed as his chest collapsed.
Lucy stood a few meters back, moving between cover and open ground, switching between bow and gun.
One arrow sliced through the air, pinning a Lucent soldier to a tree; another bullet shattered the visor of a helmet just before its owner pulled the trigger on her.
She barely blinked, reloading as she turned.
Davina was still working from within the house, her power burning hot now, the vines lashing out like whips, dragging more of the Lucent screaming into the darkness. For every man that escaped her reach, two more were caught. The ground was slick and red beneath their boots.
Within minutes, the battle had devolved into chaos.
A soldier lunged at Lucy, catching her by surprise. She ducked, using his momentum to throw him over her shoulder before plunging her knife into his side. She looked up just in time to see Corey blasting two more, the flash of his gunfire lighting his face in bursts of orange.
“Lucy!” Byron shouted, pointing behind her.
She spun, pulling the trigger just as another Lucent broke through the smoke. The bullet caught him clean in the neck. He fell hard, the thud lost under the roar of the vines tearing through soil again.
The forest was alive, the way it was pulling men back in felt like they were being devoured.
Within ten minutes, it was over.
Bodies littered the grounds, twisted and broken. Smoke hung thick through the night air.
Corey stood bent over, hands on his knees, chest heaving. “Jesus,” he muttered.
Ethan turned, wiping blood from his cheek. “And they said we couldn’t hold.”
Byron looked over the carnage, silent and then walked over to Lucy who was still trembling, he held her tight around the waist and then she steadied.
Back inside, Barnaby’s monitors flickered back to life, the static clearing as the cameras came online one by one. His eyes widened at the sight of the massacre outside.
“They must’ve killed the blocker,” he breathed. He grabbed the walkie-talkie. “Corey! You killed the blocker, I can see you now. This must be working.”
Static crackled, then Corey’s voice came through, breathless but steady. “Yeah. They work. We’re clear.”
He turned to others “Let’s get back inside, we need to rest. Before the rest come”
“Then they too will wish they hadn’t come.” Byron said as they walked back to the house.
And for a moment, the manor stood silent. The forest was still again, smoke rising slowly from the field it was a battlefield turned graveyard.
Mandy came down the stairs, her face pale but composed, eyes faintly glowing as she adjusted to the energy in the room.
“My senses are back,” she said steadily.
“They’re still quite close. I’d say at least half an hour before they break.
But this time…” she paused, looking around at everyone, “it will be all of them.”
“All of them?” Lucy’s chair toppled backward as she shot to her feet. “How the hell can we manage all of them?” Her voice cracked, panic tightening her throat.
The others froze.
Byron reached across the table, taking Lucy’s trembling hand.
“Hey,” he said firmly. “This is what we’ve trained for.
Every day. We don’t have time to panic.” He looked up at the others, his voice rising with command.
“Drink something. Check your weapons. Get your heads right. We do what we’ve always done. ”
Mandy stood near the doorway, watching him, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides.
Across the room, Mary hadn’t moved. Her gaze was distant, unreadable. Lucy looked toward her, and something in Mary’s eyes made the hairs on Lucy’s neck stand up a quiet, knowing look that wasn’t fear at all but something far more certain.
Without a word, Mary turned and walked slowly toward the stairs. Lucy wanted to call after her but didn’t. She just watched as her footsteps faded upward into the dim hallway.
Mandy followed a moment later, glancing back at Lucy before she went. “I’ll let you know when they’re minutes from entering,” she said softly. Then she disappeared upstairs after Mary.
Downstairs, the group began to gather again, closer this time the air between them thick with unspoken worry.
Corey looked from face to face, his voice level but stern. “All right, before we start jumping at shadows — is everyone good? No injuries?”
A few quiet murmurs of “no.”
“Good,” he said. “Then we wait. Eat something. Drink if you can. Just… be ready.”
The words hung there, and time stretched. The minutes felt like hours. The house itself seemed to be holding its breath every tick of the clock too loud, every gust of wind against the windows a false alarm.
No one spoke much. Ethan cleaned his blade in silence. Sam reloaded the same clip three times. Lucy sat back down, staring at nothing, her knee bouncing under the table. Byron stood at her side, not saying a word, just there — solid and unmoving.
Outside, the vines creaked and swayed like something alive trying to listen.
Then the static crackled through the radio.
Mandy’s calm voice broke the stillness. “They’re here now.”
No fear or urgency, it was just a matter of fact.
Byron stepped forward, eyes closing as he focused. The world hushed around him as he pushed his mind outward, searching through the noise. Then he caught it — a voice, deliberate, controlled, trying not to think too loud.
“Benedict is coming,” Byron murmured. “Wants to talk. Keeps repeating it. Over and over.”
Lucy frowned. “You don’t think he knows someone can read minds?”
Byron shook his head slightly. “Maybe, god knows what this prick has knowledge of.”
Outside, the low drone of machinery echoed through the trees, the sound of axes, saws, and boots crunching dead leaves. Pieces of the forest were hacked away, thick vines snapping like bones under blades. The trees groaned as the clearing opened.
And then he stepped through.
He walked with deliberate grace, his coat perfectly pressed despite the dirt, his smile sharp enough to cut glass. His voice came smooth and smug, echoing faintly across the open ground.
“Hello again,” he said, spreading his arms as though greeting old friends. “It seems you put up quite an effective barrier.” He paused, glancing down at the dark shapes scattered among the trees. “Well... Ineffective, I suppose, since we still managed to get through.”
He crouched slightly, examining one of the fallen Lucent soldiers. “Ah, it looks like you met some of my team. I’m glad to see you were such a welcoming committee.” He stepped delicately over the corpse, smiling. “Now, tell me… who’s responsible for all this mess?”
Lucy stepped forward before anyone else could speak. “That would be you,” she said firmly. “You sent them here, didn’t you?”
Benedict turned that smile on her he looked cold and amused. “Yes. But who’s responsible for their fate?” He tilted his head, eyes scanning her face. “That’s a lot of dead men. Almost fifty. Impressive work.”
Lucy’s voice didn’t waver. “Does it matter? You’re not welcome here. And if you don’t want to end up like the rest of your comrades”, her tone turned razor-sharp “then you’d better leave the way you came.”
Benedict chuckled, looking genuinely entertained. “You’re right, my dear. Absolutely.” He turned to his men. “Men, let us leave this place, for she has spoken, and we must always do as we’re told.”
A few of his soldiers laughed. But then he spun back sharply, eyes gleaming. “Before we go,” he said softly, “I’ll be taking you with me.”
Two guards stepped forward fast.
Lucy’s eyes flashed violet. The sound of energy crackled through the air as a blade formed from her hand, a shimmer of light and steel. She moved like lightning, a blur of motion that no one could track.
Two clean strikes.
Both guards froze mid-step, eyes wide, before their heads dropped clean from their shoulders. Their bodies hit the ground with dull, heavy thuds that shook the dirt.
Lucy didn’t even flinch. “Now look what you made me do,” she said evenly, eyes still burning bright.
Benedict clapped slowly, mock applause echoing through the field. “Bravo,” he said. “Absolutely wonderful. You are special indeed. If you’re this impressive…” He looked around at the others. “…the rest must be extraordinary.”
Sam smirked, flicking a knife between her fingers. “Nope. Just human.” She hurled the blade, it hit a Lucent soldier standing beside Benedict square in the chest, dead-centre. The man collapsed instantly.
“But I’ll still fuck you up,” Sam added, “if you give me a reason.”
Corey chuckled under his breath. “Remind me never to stand next to her again, this mother fucker is going to get us killed.”
The air shifted.
From the treeline came the sound of branches snapping. The overgrown bushes began to thrash and break apart, spilling shadows into the clearing.
More soldiers, dozens, emerging from the dark, helmets glinting, rifles raised.