Horace’s Heartache

Somewhere hidden among the public, two middle-aged vampires continued to throw fists and spells at each other.

Solomon aggressively launched a crimson wave, only for Ren to shatter it away with a clumsy wave of an arm. He cursed under his breath and manifested a transparent wall between them.

“T-Timeout,” Ren croaked, clutching his throat. “The… the poison is still kicking hard…”

Solomon straightened his posture. “Why aren’t you fighting back?” he growled. “No, why won’t you explain yourselves? What happened to becoming a better person? I thought you wanted to start a family as well. Was I wrong?”

“Who the hell do you think I am? I’m still keeping my word, goddamn it!” Ren yelled back. “Like I said, I can’t say anything, or else the goddamn prophecy will come true!”

“What prophecy?”

“Fiona didn’t tell you? She predicted that all our kids would die along with this amusement park, followed by the rest of Theatreux!”

“And how will her death stop this ‘prophecy?’”

“W—I can’t explain it just yet.” Ren pointed back at the auditorium at a distance. “The only thing you should know is that Monty is one we should be—”

A massive explosion thundered across the sky, followed by a dark flare that didn’t match the sunset’s glow.

Solomon and Ren twitched and turned back towards the grand auditorium now enshrouded in black fire. The men faced each other again with Solomon throwing a distraught glare.

“The hell’s with that look? I didn’t do anything!” said Ren.

“Then how the devil did it suddenly burst into unnaturally-colored flames after you pointed at it?!”

“That was just terrible timing!” Ren quickly gaped his eyes in realization and gawked back at the building. “No, wait! Cherry is still in there!”

Without another second wasted, Ren leaped high into the air and soared straight back toward the auditorium.

Solomon began his sprint and prepared to fly next, only for a gleaming red figure to emerge from out of nowhere and strike him at his waist in the blink of an eye, sending him tumbling across the ground.

Solomon groaned in pain and squinted his eyes, recollecting his vision as he stared at a figure geared in gleaming, scarlet armor, its design resembling that of a phoenix.

“Solomon,” a familiar voice growled. “Do you remember my vow to you all those years ago?”

“H-Horace?” Solomon slowly widened his eyes in astonishment. “Is that you?”

Horace raised an arm, his palm directed at him. “You vile, wretched creature,” he hissed with venom in his voice. “It’s all your goddamn fault, Solomon.”

“Horace, what—”

Horace shot a massive, fiery laser from his hands, forcing Solomon to dodge away as it disintegrated his former spot. He shot another one, and another, and another. He summoned a flaming spear and lunged at him, eyes blazing with blind fury.

Solomon raised a shield moments before the spear could strike his head. “Horace, what’s gotten into you?!” he shouted.

“What’s gotten into me?! The fault lies with you!” he spat back. “You’ve failed to protect Lady Maribel, you’ve failed to raise your children, and now once again, you’ve failed to save another life.”

“What do you—”

Horace punched through his shield, bashing Solomon across his face and sending him flying away. He crashed into the ground, dirt clouding around him. He groaned and staggered his way back up, only for a hand to snatch his coat and roughly yanked him back up.

“When Lady Maribel announced her courtship with you, I thought I could trust her decision. I thought you could keep her safe—keep her happy—in a way I know I could never do for her as her butler. That was the only reason I did not object to you after all those years.”

He threw a hook, only for Solomon to block it with a forearm, who winced when his arm cracked. “Tell me, Solomon,” Horace growled. “How could you? How could you possibly fail her?”

Solomon gritted his teeth and swung back a fist. Horace leaned away and let go, quickly distancing himself. “I’ve always known that I’m not perfect. I’ve always feared that I may one day accidentally hurt her—directly or not—even more than you did,” he said sternly. “I used to know nothing but bloodshed and destruction before I met her, and she knew it. So believe me when I tell you this…” He clutched his chest and stared at him with an earnest gaze. “Mari never once regretted her decisions! I did not fail her—only a tragic accident took her away, something far beyond any of our control!”

Horace gripped his spear tightly. “What a load of rubbish,” he spat. “Your eldest son killed her. With your powers. If Lady Maribel hadn’t chosen a vampire, none of this would happen!”

He launched the spear at him as quickly as lightning. Solomon barely managed to dodge it as it grazed his shoulder. Flames spread out the spear and erupted a wall of fire circling the two of them.

Horace lunged at him, forcing Solomon to step back, only to snatch his lapel with a firm grip. “I’m utterly done giving you chances, Solomon,” he growled. “Lady Maribel is gone. Therefore, my vow to you is now in full effect.”

“What—”

Horace flew him high up and presented the nightmare before him.

Solomon widened his eyes in horror, now finally acknowledging the screams, the slaughter, and the panic beneath them.

Blood splattered across the ground and burning tents, and corpses continued to pile at every sight. A raven—wrapped in static—flew around and exploded above a group hiding in an alley, releasing clear liquid. Some of the liquid landed on the exposed skin, immediately dissolving the tissues before some of the victims went feral.

Children cried for their parents, only to be mauled by a hysteric stranger near them. Some children even began attacking whoever was nearest in a similarly blind frenzy as the adults, their minds in disarray.

“Horace,” Solomon stammered. “What have you done?”

In response, Horace furiously hurled him back into the ground with a thundering crash. Solomon coughed and staggered his way back up.

“Tonight shall be the start of a new hell,” Horace declared, extending his arms. “A new hell that will make you vampires suffer as many tragedies as we humans did!”

Solomon clutched his wound and gritted his teeth. He couldn’t see Horace’s expressions through the helmet, but the tone of his voice gave it away.

Horace’s grief was eating away his sanity, just like Clover weeks ago. In that case, talking things out wouldn’t bring them anywhere.

With a regretful gaze, Solomon gripped his fists, red energy radiating off his arms. “Horace, I understand your pain,” he muttered. “If fighting me will relieve your anger, then so be it!”