My Little Ventrue Pt. 10 Ch. 10

As the water ripped and tore everything apart, Eric sank his talons into the street and stood up while catching his claws on a building wall. The water had pushed them into one of the buildings, and it was falling apart around them. But as much as his friends were in a mess, the blood wraiths were worse. They didn't have much mass, and as the water broke down walls of what looked like the inside of a decrepit apartment building, the wraiths slammed into the chairs, couches, counters, and straight through walls of drywall and brick. One of the unlucky ones crashed through a wall, went through the apartment Eric was in, and into a window. The metal bars acted like a strainer, and the spirit broke apart as it was pushed through.

Flow didn't stop. More water crashed on them, and more. The only thing that kept the building from falling on their heads was the steel support beams, but the spirit realm didn't care about materials. Everything was ephemera. Everything did its own thing based on how it felt as a reflection of the physical world. And the steel beams didn't think too highly of the old, dingy apartment building it was mimicking.

The building collapsed.

Hundreds of floating black blobs, rat spirits with beady glowing eyes, flowed away in the flood as the water broke through more walls. Other spirits hidden in the building, tiny things with little claws in the cupboards, and larger ones that looked almost like doors, and old televisions, with rust and broken limbs, grabbed onto any surface they could as the water swirled. The ceiling fell on them, and Eric covered his head with his huge arms as wood and tile and carpet buried him.

Water again. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't figure out which way was up or down. He opened his eyes but found only darkness, and flashes of movement as layers of building crashed onto him. Enormous pieces of floor and wall bigger than him broke apart, and steel beams rolled through the water and broke his ribs.

Something grabbed his arm, and lifted. As the water cleared from Eric's eyes, he raised his claws and swiped down at the colossal creature lifting him. He stopped halfway. It wasn't Street-Tail King.

"Okay?" Matthew asked, voice a growling bark. The Rahu was titanic when transformed.

"Yes."

The huge werewolf nodded, turned, sank his claws into a pile of rubble, and lifted. Water continued to churn around them, and a glance up showed the night sky. It hadn't been a very tall building, four floors, but still, Eric didn't expect to survive having a building dropped on him.

Oh fuck, Jessy. He snapped his gaze around. More chaos. The water thrashed and tore at more walls of nearby buildings, creating whirlpools filled with chunks of brick and wood. Rubble was everywhere, and the water crashed into it like rapids, contained and angry.

Maybe fifty feet away, in the alley between a mountain of knocked over brick, concrete, and splashing waves, Street-Tail King stood. Two werewolves tore at him, roaring and howling, massive claws taking chunks out of the rat that splattered against the water. Brianna and Arturo. The ephemera chunks behaved like flesh, for a few seconds, before they disappeared into the blue and broke apart like ice melting.

Eric looked to Matthew. The titan pushed through the flowing water and headed for Street-Tail, but two black blurs jumped out of the depths and onto his back. The blood wraiths sank their huge claws into his muscles, and the blades passed through flesh with far too much ease.

Eric took two steps toward him before Matthew spun around and crashed into the water. Splashing rapids buried him, and Eric lost him in the darkness as the giant werewolf thrashed and crashed into whatever debris was too heavy to flow away.

Movement in the corner of Eric's eye whipped him around, and one of the spirits erupted from wet black, claws out. Eric snapped his arm out and sank his claws directly into the creature's face. It screeched, a sound far too similar to the sound Mary's ghost made, before it swiped at Eric's arm. But Eric swung his arm to the side and smashed the spirit toward one of the collapsed walls, and the creature's hands lost track of their momentum, missing his arm as he lifted the dead thing up, and then down onto the wall.

The sensation of spirit flesh breaking and ripping apart in his claws was euphoric. The sound of crashing water turned to thunder, and his heart beat became war drums in ears. Faster, and faster. The strange smell of ephemera filled his nostrils, a scent his human half couldn't understand, but the wolf spirit longed for. The smell of the hunt.

Somewhere, deep inside him, he knew the Cahalith part of him was happy for this. What meaning was there in negotiating with a spirit? What story could be told from such a boring event? But a battle, with such high stakes? Perfect. If only there was an audience, like there'd been in the old days when he'd fought for spectators. Like a gladiator.

A simple glance around satisfied him. Spirits were watching. Spirits of the air and the crow watched from a distance, paralyzed. Spirits of darkness, of disease, of addiction, small and weak, unformed and pathetic, barely more than motes of essence, stared on. Spirits of technology, of streets and cars, of surveillance and lethargy watched on, petrified. Flowing Sanctuary's reckless destruction had broken an entire building, and the ambush the stupid rat had set for them. It had also summoned an audience.

He stomped through the water, looking for his mate. The undead ones didn't need to breathe, but that didn't mean she couldn't die again if one of those bloody clawed ones found her. He sniffed the air, hunting for the scent of ash, but found none, only water and dying spirits. He looked down at the churning waves, but found only darkness and water. No mate, or her small friend.

Another one of the bloody spirits rose from the water, a broken, bleeding thing. An easy kill. Eric sank his claws into it, and ripped it in half. It tried to scream, but its ephemera body could no longer make sound, torn asunder.

Where was she?

Matthew burst from the water, one of the spirits clawing and stabbing, but its body was in his mouth as the Rahu devoured it. The other tried to escape his clutches, but the enormous Uratha ripped it in half easily.

So much for the ambush. The spirit of streets and rats underestimated them. Eric snarled as he turned to face the giant rat, and let the fire in his chest guide him toward the hunt. He wanted to find his mate, but she could fend for herself. The hunt was important.

They wouldn't stop until the streets overflowed with the broken, shattered bodies of Black Blood's servants.

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~~Natasha~~

She stared down at the insanity from on top a nearby building. It was tilted, bent, warped, and looked kind of like a laundromat. Judging from how the spirit realm made the building look, it was a good bet the laundromat was a corrupt place in the real world, a front for some shady business. Typical for Dolareido.

The only reason it wasn't crumbling underneath her, was because Flowing Sanctuary had directed its power straight down at the alley, and the building across from where it'd started. How a water spirit worked, Tash didn't know, and still didn't know, despite asking Matt and Art. They always gave her vague answers, things like 'spirits, yo' or 'ephemera has the power to create mass from nothing' which seemed absurd to her. Though, in retrospect, Mary's ghost was an ephemera being, and she made things from nothing, mist and stuff.

One of the blood wraiths let out a screech as it sliced at the water. Could it hurt Flow? Was the river that smashed and sloshed in the alley and debris actually Flow's body? The Uratha could hurt spirits with their claws and teeth in ways Tash's sword couldn't, but then again, slicing one of them in the neck with her very normal metal sword had certainly hurt it.

Now, was not, the fucking time, to be taking, mental notes!

The new river ripped the apartment building apart, until it literally fell on her friends. She suppressed a squeak, and stared on as the werewolves, now transformed, turned what was once an ambush into a quick battle they were easily winning. Flow had attacked the way it did, because it knew the werewolves would be fine. But, where was Jessy?

In the water, she spotted Brianna and Art ripping into the giant rat, but it fought them off, lifting one by the throat with one hand, and landing a slash across Art's chest with the other. Tash snarled as she gripped her sword, and ran over the rooftop of the building opposite the one that collapsed into the churning waves. Eric and Matt were in there, between piles of rubble and floating boards, fighting off more of the wraith spirits. But the moment they made headway, a couple blood wraiths jumped from the water or shadows and threw themselves at their backs.

She almost jumped down to help them, but they could handle the wraiths. Eric was probably looking for Jessy, but she was probably buried under a pile of bricks and three feet under water. For the moment, a safe place to be. Brianna and Art needed her help now.

Tash stared down at the jump. She'd climbed up high to get away from the wraiths in the insanity, five floors. Maybe she could shoot Street-Tail King? Gun soaked, might not fire. And she was pretty high up. She could see in the darkness just fine compared to others, but there was just too much chaos.

She smiled as a memory came back to her, something Jack said he'd done, something Clara had confirmed.

She took a deep, useless breath, held her small sword in both hands, blade pointed down, and jumped.

Falling was a strangely freeing sensation. Weightlessness. She'd fallen from great heights before, even broke a leg once, and it'd left the idea of jumping off buildings deep in the 'don't do that' section of her subconscious. But she was a professional, damn it. Falling five floors would take about two seconds, an eternity, when trying to land on someone's head in a chaotic brawl.

The brawl moved to the side slightly. Natasha grit her teeth as she twisted in the air hard, and held out the blade with one hand instead. It was the only way to get it over Street-Tail King's skull. This was going to hurt.

It hit the stupid creature straight in the head, and she screamed as she squeezed the hilt tight as her weight and speed forced the blade through its skull. It felt like she'd just stabbed a giant tree stump, and the impact jolted her body hard enough her shoulder wrenched. But she didn't let go as the blade got halfway down before it got stuck, and Tash crashed against the spirit's back. She didn't let go.

Screaming louder as pain tore through her shoulder, she squeezed tight, reached out for the blade, and caught it with her other hand. She held on as the rat mirrored her scream, pitch included, and thrashed around hard, tossing both werewolves into the water, before it reached back and tried to grab her. It couldn't. It shrieked and roared and smashed its asphalt tail into the water again and again, sometimes swinging high and slamming into her back. But it was all sporadic, random thrashes, a dying creature not sure what was happening as a piece of metal sank deeper and deeper into its skull. A living creature would have been dead already.

Brianna and Art erupted from the water, and pounced the huge two-legged rat full on. It fell over, and everything turned to black so deep even Tash's eyes couldn't penetrate it. Water, crashing around her, thrashing, bodies, claws, and a hundred rat-like blob things falling into the water with her. She held on through it all, even as the grinding in her shoulder screamed in her skull to let go. No need to breathe, but that didn't stop panic from flooding her as bricks and concrete and flesh and fur smashed into her until she was trapped against the street.

But the chaos settled, and the enormous body pinning her moved. Oh god no, still alive? Enormous hands grabbed her, claws nearly puncturing her skin, and yanked her up through the water. Oh shit oh shi--

"Natasha," Brianna said, half barking.

"Oh! Oh..." Natasha looked down at the giant body beside her in the water, her sword still trapped in its skull. It wasn't moving anymore. "It w-worked. I--ow!"

Brianna made a tiny yelp sound, and let go of her. Which of course led to Tash falling right back into the water. Groaning, she got back up and clutched her dislocated shoulder.

"Sorry," Brianna said.

"It's fine. Just, give it a g-good yank. Downward, please." She leaned forward, and gestured to her dangling arm with her good arm.

Brianna wrapped her giant wolf hand around her wrist, and forearm considering how big the werewolf's hand was, and yanked down. A sickening sensation, especially since her Kindred body fought to get the arm back into the socket on its own, but all it did was pull the bone closer, into the wrong spot. Brianna yanked hard enough to almost pull her back into the water, but Tash stayed up, and let out a blissful sigh as the humerus bone slipped back into the groove.

The raging river stopped thrashing and slamming into everything. The water calmed. The rat was dead, and so were the blood wraiths.

"Dangerous," Art the huge werewolf said, looking at Tash while gesturing to Street-Tail King's body.

"Yes, it was. B-But we don't have time for this! We have to get back!" She grabbed her sword, put a foot on the giant rat's head, and yanked. Street-Tail King's body was covered in fresh bite and claw marks, and weird colors bled into the water. The same color gushed out of the hole Tash left in its skull.

She knew who Mictlantecuhtli was. Antoinette would too, and she needed to know.

Art half growled, half sighed down at the creature. "Sad."

"Y-Yeah, I guess." She never liked Street-Tail King, but at least it'd been direct about its nature. It'd even helped them before, for selfish reasons, but still. "I... I w-wonder what happened? How'd Black Blood bind it?"

Brianna shrugged. "Don't know. Spirits can bind each other, if very... very powerful." It was hard for her to talk in her werewolf form, but she managed. The water didn't provide any resistance to her huge body, and she walked through it quickly, causing it to splash against her thighs as she made her way to the other two werewolves. "Okay?"

"Yes," Eric said, visibly shaking. Soaked and torn up, bleeding from several holes, he looked ready to rip something open and eat it raw.

"Where's Jessy?" Tash asked.

Eric snarled as he looked down at the water, and tread around, pushing over piles of rubble and digging through them as he looked for her.

"Flow," Brianna said, "enough."

The water rumbled, a deep, ocean-like sound of power and majesty. It listened and obeyed, and the water receded. Slowly at first, as if Flowing Sanctuary struggled to control itself, but it did, and the water formed together into a spiraling whirlpool that went up instead of down. Up and up, until a torso and arms that looked more like misty waterfalls formed, along with a blank face with glowing white-eye slits, a little too similar to the blood wraith's eyes for Tash's comfort.

The huge angel wings were less calming, and far more intimidating, than angel wings should have been. Safe, her spirit friend, made her feel safe. Flowing Sanctuary made Tash feel like she'd stumbled onto some sort of ancient underwater temple, and it'd protect her as long as she was in it, but it'd also crush and drown anyone it didn't like.

Tash backed away from the huge spirit until at least one werewolf was between it and her.

"Reckless," Art said with a growl.

"You were surrounded. I needed to create the opening. Appreciate my help, Uratha."

Art dismissed her with another growl and a hand, er, claw wave, before he walked down the alley, the water now shallow enough it didn't pass his ankle. But he was a werewolf, so, tall ankles.

"Jessy," Eric barked.

"Looking," Art said, and he pushed over a pile of rubble. Not there. He flipped over another pile. Not there.

Tash followed after him, but stopped as she looked down. Red. That was a lot of red. The blood wraiths dripped red from their weird bodies, as if they'd been draped in cloaks made of magical blood that dripped and dripped and never stopped. But that blood disappeared and didn't do anything. Now, as Tash stared down at the alley full of ankle-deep water, creeping ripples of red joined the river, until it looked a little too much like a certain scene in The Ten Commandments.

Everyone stared down, even Flow, before the rumbling started. Rumbling turned into a gentle earthquake, complete with vibrations heavy enough the water rippled and made micro splashes. It only grew worse as the rumbling grew louder, and the splashes of red pushed against Flow's river body.

"It comes..." Flow said, powerful, feminine, scary angel voice sounding way too small compared to the oncoming bass.

"W-What? I... oh fuck." Tash tightened her grip on her sword, and backed up until her back hit the other wall in the alley.

"Uratha," a voice said, loud and heavy enough Tash felt it in her guts. "Uratha, come out, and die." It came closer, and closer, the destroyed building the only barrier between the giant red mountain of blood water, and Tash and her friends.

She gulped. "Red Tide."