Chapter 8 - Eulogy (Season 1 Finale)

The damage has been done, Annabelle and Rupert are running out of time to stop the bloodshed.

Cast:

Writer/Director/Editor/Producer - DevDoc ( _devdoc on discord)

Narrator - Sir Captain https://linktr.ee/sir

Iskander - Tom Demont @TomRDemont on X

Selvara - Elī Roze @eli111roze on X

Various/Iskander - Bear The Wizard ( https://linktr.ee/BearTheWizardVA )

Thalor - “Oscar”

Corvayan - Carianto

Sir Rupert Cassius - Reggie LeSabre https://www.youtube.com/@AmberbladeStudios0809/featured

Annabelle - Risiblezombie https://risiblezombie-va.carrd.co/

Jeremias - Michael McGeachin https://share.google/k2qVyHe6XLGisZeJe

Liora - IvyD - https://voiceacting.love-takes-work.com/

Various -J. Rod - https://x.com/jocele8041?t=xK-fNUftZUsoJbBmyxRusA&s=09

Various - DarkAngel - DarkAngel8191 (TikTok)

Transcript

SPEAKER_01 0:31

Annabelle shivered as the harsh wind blew through her new perch, overlooking the square. She drew pictures in the snow next to her, taking note of landmarks, calculating the wind, and waiting for her moment to strike. Like a ritual, she scanned the square, observing Iskander, Silvara, and Falaris. She opened and closed the action of her rifle, timing her shots, each accented with a click as she dry-fired over each target. From this distance, any deviation from her marks could mean missing by a few inches. Pulling her head away from the iron sights, she centered herself as the vampires danced in a blur of blue flame. Their positions were obvious, but the shot was risky. She continued her ritual, looking at the leather pouch by her side. Eight rounds of regular cartridges and two intricately spiraled silver rounds for the undead remained.

SPEAKER_04 1:37

Eight rounds than enough to put down the beast.

SPEAKER_01 1:42

The target was large and easy to hit, but would the bullet be enough to bring it down quickly? She continued to calculate, weighing every variable to slay the bull. Then there were Iskander and Silvara, both a hideous blur of wanton cruelty. They would require silver, through the head or the heart. Annabelle's breath was slow and steady as she worked the sights on her rifle. Her breath steamed out from around her mask.

SPEAKER_04 2:12

He will be my first.

SPEAKER_01 2:14

She eyed the blur that was a scander. She held her sights over him for a few moments before needing to look away. She let the air out of her lungs as she looked up to the darkened sky, then closed her eyes tightly. In a moment of levity, she opened one eye to see if any more ammunition had appeared. The supply remained unchanged. Minutes passed as she studied her targets, watching and waiting to see when they were most vulnerable. Then a new shape appeared in the square. It was covered in furs, with a wispy flame of white pulsing from his cloak. His fracture was calming. Her brow furrowed as she studied this new figure. The white haze was new. Sparks of gold fell from his cloak as he walked. His face was covered as she tried to make out his features.

SPEAKER_06 3:15

You are a stubborn one. None have been so sturdy to receive my gift and live.

SPEAKER_01 3:22

Silvara gave Iskander a passive glare before he stood up from the shrine atop Phalaris. He helped her up from her seat, and the two glided down from their perch with noble grace. Iskander landed first. His armor rattled and his chain whip hit the ground. Your priest is dead. Rupert swung his cloak to reveal his sword hilt, now wrapped in the hellish chains of Corvane. He pulled the sword, letting it hum as the low light cast brilliant colours from the stained glass over the vampires. The chain was still adorned with skin and skull as he gripped it with both hands. Annabelle watched, a rare smile appearing under her mask. She did not recognize the man, but the sword was unmistakable. Rupert was alive. The brief moment was only broken by an anomaly. As Silvara saw the chains hanging from Rupert's sword, her fracture faltered. The inferno became whole, quiet, and readable. Annabelle could see her clearly. She pointed her rifle. The fracture ignited again, hiding Silvara from her sights.

SPEAKER_00 4:41

Do you think this changes anything? All you have done is invite more pain.

SPEAKER_01 4:48

Zavara pressed her boot into the ground. Within an instant she was in front of him. Rupert raised his sword to block with one hand as the other reached out toward Phalaris. The massive creature growled as if being branded. Zavara clawed at the blade, her nails scratching against the glass fuller. Rupert held himself steady as a pulse of air rippled through the square. Zavara was deterred only for a moment, but quickly regained her footing. The snow around them began to hiss as if under immense heat. Zavara set upon him again, clawing with anger. Sparks flew from her nails against the sword and armor, but Rupert remained defensive, letting her blows glance off his steel. He just needed time. Thunder ripped through the clouds. Silvara retreated from her attack, looking to the heavens. Annabelle watched through her iron sight as the spectacle unfolded, each of them a swirl of gold and blue. She waited for an opportunity, but suddenly a glimmer of white caught her peripheral vision, guiding her to her ammo. One of the spiraled rounds began to glow. A spear for the hunter. In an instant, Annabelle ejected the casing from her rifle and slam the spiral bullet through the action and took aim. Don't mess. Silvara jolted forward, her claws bearing down on the paladin as he dropped his guard. A faint smile crossed his face. A moment of peace as he waited for his end. Just as Silvara's claws dug deep into Rupert's neck, Annabelle's shot rang out, echoing through the square. A ghastly wail erupted from Thalaris as it heaved. Vicious jerks back and forth as the bullets spiral through bone and brain matter. Its limbs are no longer under control as it thrashed in the snow. Its heavy head dropped to the ground with a grand thud, blood pouring from its eye socket. Silvara looked deep into Rupert's eyes, his final moments putting her into a trance of bloodlust. Her hands delved deeper, eviscerating his insides as she dug down through his body to his heart. Her hand gripped the dying muscle and silenced him with a heavy squeeze. Her lips quivered as she felt the organ shatter between her claws. Iskander looked at the bull in horror. The beast laid low. The creature's body was in death throes, its massive legs kicking and convulsing. Savara finished her kill. Her arm was covered in viscera as she looked back at Iskander, following his gaze to Phalaris, who lay nearly motionless. Only muscle spasms hinted at the life he once had. Savara shook, her body trembling as tears welled in her eyes. As she looked upon the pride of her family, her fracture broke once more. Her form became readable and exposed. Annaba placed the last spiral round in her rifle, aimed and fired. The bullet wailed like a demon as it soared, finding its mark as it tore through Silvara's back, spinning and ripping the vampire's cold heart to pieces. The bullet's exit was spectacular. Her chest was open, bones splintered. Silvara collapsed. But on life left her before she hit her knees. Annabelle began loading the rest of the eight rounds into her rifle, working the action again before looking through her sight once more.

SPEAKER_03 9:15

Can't be picking now.

SPEAKER_01 9:17

She looked through her sight once more, her eyes focused on Silvara's lifeless body laying in the snow. Iskander stood next to her, searching for any sign of movement. He dropped to his knees next to her, cradling her body in his arms as he tried to shake her awake. Annabelle could see his pleas on his lips, but she was too far from the square to hear.

SPEAKER_04 9:42

Bullsuckers.

SPEAKER_01 9:44

Annabelle now searched for Rupert, waiting to cover him as Iskander was now vulnerable. The glinting of his stained glass sword caught her eye as she saw him motionless in the snow, blood pooling around him. Her heart sank. His life traded for a moment. She stroked the trigger as if trying to comfort herself, like a child clutching a blanket in the dark. A familiar place, the only home she allowed herself to have as she tried to anchor herself, a tear falling from her eye, drifting down her cheek and onto the metal of the rifle. The liquid began to freeze and stung against her cheek. But it was only a fraction of the pain she felt in her heart.

SPEAKER_03 10:30

One to go.

SPEAKER_01 10:32

She picked up her perch and slung her pack and rifle around her back as she began her descent down from the tower. Climbing down the ladder, she moved her makeshift barricade from in front of the only door up to the tower before pushing into the upper levels of the Mayoral offices. It was dark, quiet, only the sounds of her breathing filtering through her mask as she crept through the desks and tables. Her stance was low but quick, light on her feet as she moved to a railing overlooking the center of the building. A large stone floor mural of a bear with its mouth open in defiance aimed towards the door. She took a moment to look and listen for any signs of the guards.

SPEAKER_03 11:17

They could have easily tracked my position. It was a good perch, but obvious.

SPEAKER_01 11:22

Just a moment later, the large wooden doors at the front opened, and a figure stepped forward. A large, hulking man gave her pause, then relief.

SPEAKER_02 11:33

Jeremias.

SPEAKER_01 11:35

She bolted towards the stairs, racing down to the first floor to meet him. Her boots echoed off of the stone floor, betraying her hidden position. Annabelle.

SPEAKER_03 11:48

I missed you, big guy.

SPEAKER_01 11:50

She said, wrapping her arms around his large frame, her fingers barely touching.

SPEAKER_09 11:56

Killed Rupert. Sir Rupert.

SPEAKER_01 12:03

Annabelle looked up into the familiar face, smiling behind her mask, but her eyes smiled with her.

SPEAKER_06 12:09

They also killed me.

SPEAKER_02 12:12

What?

SPEAKER_01 12:14

Annabelle tried to ask, feeling herself being pulled closer to the large man. Then a mighty blow to her stomach sent her falling to the ground. She gasped and groaned as air refused to fill her lungs. She lay on the stone floor, looking back at Jeremias. His cruel intentions were now on display. She saw his movements before he made them, but she could not stop him. He grabbed her by the leg, dragging her across the floor before bringing his heavy boot down over her knee, shattering bone and dislocating it. The sounds of muffled cries filled the room as she began to plead. He did not respond with words, but then grabbed the other leg and did the same. Jeremiah stood back with a cruel grin, watching her rise in pain. Her breath came and she took a deep breath, finally filling her lungs once again. The large man knelt down as he placed a hand on his face, slowly peeling it away, leaving a thick, bloody film over the sharp features of Eliaskin. His body changed back to a slender man. The hulking form of Jeremias was only an illusion, and his severed face lay on the ground next to her.

SPEAKER_05 13:34

Every face I wear smiles at you.

SPEAKER_01 13:38

While my hats take everything you love. Annabelle, terrified by the sight, breathed in again, reaching up to her mask and unlatched it. She let out an ethereal wail, a scream that shook the very building around them. Glass shattered as Thalor grabbed at his ears, trying to protect them from the violent sound coursing through the building. Blood dripped from his ears as Annabelle's scream died down. She was ragged, the pain in her legs screaming and throbbing as she tried to process what was happening. Her world began to spin, dizzy and unfocused. She fell to her back, looking up as the building spun around her. Annabelle barely felt Thalor's hand gripping the collar of her long coat, slowly dragging her behind him, her legs dragging uselessly. The streets looked different now, the night sky littered with stars over the white-topped homes. The wreckage, the destruction, the torture that riddled the streets were out of view. The vastness of the night sky was empty, but comforting.

SPEAKER_06 15:05

Master Iskander, I bring you a gift.

SPEAKER_07 15:10

Toss her over next to the other one.

SPEAKER_01 15:13

Falor pulled her fervor and threw her into the bloody snow next to Rupert. Her eyes met the cold gaze of her mentor. His eyes held open, snow covering his face.

SPEAKER_03 15:31

Um sorry.

SPEAKER_01 15:33

She reached out for the Paladin's hand. Every moment she wished he could do the same. The moment never came.

SPEAKER_07 15:41

This was our moment. The key to release us from this prison.

SPEAKER_01 15:46

Iskander took Silvara in his arms once more. He walked her body to the large corpse of the bull, resting her there against its large head. He took a moment to pose her gently. She was now as he wished to have found her only a few nights ago. Calm, safe. He turned toward the square as he saw a crowd now forming, encircling the carnage. Any tears filling his eyes were gone now, replaced with rage as he looked at the crowd surrounding him.

SPEAKER_07 16:37

Every last one of you will serve. Your hands will never be idle. Your purpose will be servitude, even your barren cowers from us.

SPEAKER_01 16:50

Iskanda seethed as he looked at the crowd. No. A man began to step forward. His clothes were torn and messy, face covered in mud and soot. Using a spear as a brace, he stepped into the square.

SPEAKER_05 17:07

Our city has stood proud for years against the likes of you.

SPEAKER_01 17:12

Gascander stepped aggressively through the square as he challenged the man who dared to step forward. The vampire's size was imposing as he looked down at the ragged man.

SPEAKER_05 17:23

A harsh winter dulls the nerves. It will take more than that to break us.

SPEAKER_01 17:29

Annabelle lay still, legs screaming, but having them numbed slightly by the frigid snow. The voice continued. She looked around, and then her eyes fell to Rupert's lips. They were cold and blue, his face waxy and emotionless. She watched Rupert mouth the words, but echoed a voice that was not his own.

SPEAKER_07 17:55

Rostovka is already broken.

SPEAKER_05 17:59

We will not bend. We will not do your bidding. We are not gonna let ourselves get trampled by the likes of you. Not ever again.

SPEAKER_01 18:14

Iskander grabbed the spear and thrust it into the man's stomach. As he pulled the spear back, the shaft broke, sending the tip of the spear cascading through snow, leaving drizzled blood in the white powder. Annabelle rose to her knees defiantly, her vision blurry, the fractures around Iskander waving and swirling like a whirlpool.

SPEAKER_07 18:39

My legacy!

SPEAKER_01 18:41

His form was clouded by the fractures around him. Annabelle couldn't focus, her stomach turning, but she didn't look away this time. Then she saw his hand reach through the blue haze and grab her by the hair, yanking her back only to feel the stinging pain of something in her neck. Iskander released his grip and let her body slump down, her hands now shaking, reaching up to her neck to find the broken spear in her throat. Blood gushed from her wound as she attempted to stop the flow. Her hand slipped off the shaft of the spear pathetically, with each failed pull. Annabelle opened her mouth, blood pooling around her tongue as she was trying to scream. One last act of defiance in the face of the mad prince.

SPEAKER_07 19:31

Their agony was beautiful. Now they died for nothing. No, this is not the end. They will see me as I should be.

SPEAKER_01 19:52

His face twitched with contempt as he looked into her eyes.

SPEAKER_07 19:57

This pains me more than you know. Watching you die so easily for what you have done.

SPEAKER_01 20:09

Iskander began to pace like a crazed animal, stepping back and forth in the snow as he looked upon his world now laying motionless in the square. Valaris lay still, only the tremors and muscle spasms remained.

SPEAKER_07 20:35

Your screams would be the symphony to heal a shattered heart. But once again, I must deny myself such pleasure.

SPEAKER_01 20:50

Iskander grinded his teeth as he gripped the sides of her head, forcing her to look at him.

SPEAKER_07 20:57

I will remember you as you are in this moment for as long as I reign. Every city will burn because of you. The streets will be painted red in your dishonor.

SPEAKER_01 21:17

Iskander saw her eyes dimming. A brief trembling smile crept over his lips. He was accustomed to one's final moments. Annabelle met Rupert's unblinking gaze one more time. His arm was now Stretched out as if to embrace her, to guide her as he did in life to the end. One last journey. The voice boomed through her mind again as a shimmer caught at her darkening vision. A chalice now in Rupert's hand. Rupert's lessons flashed through her mind. Her stomach churned as her heartbeat slowed. Annabelle rolled her body, taking the chalice, dragging it through the snow. Unlatching the lid, forced a vile smell through her nostrils. Her eyes widened as the crimson drink swirled in the cup. Black Ickle pooled at the top like oil. She tipped the cup to her lips. The searing pain woke her further as the bladed rim cut through her cheeks. The blood poured into her mouth and pooled around her tongue, draining down around the spearhead in her throat. The cold iron taste was left on her tongue as her eyes went black. Annabelle's eyes rolled back, her body convulsing as the dark elixir surged through her veins. The chalice fell to the ground, forgotten as she grasped her throat, yanking hard at the spear and pulling it from her neck. Her skin began to pale, taking on an ashen hue, while her veins turned a sickly black, pulsating with the corrupted essence. She could feel the icy tendrils of the transformation spreading through her body, freezing her from the inside out. The pain intensified, and she could hear the sound of her bones cracking, realigning, healing. Her fingers elongated into claws and her teeth sharpened into fangs. The blood in her mouth began to boil, and she could taste the metallic tang of her own decay. Then it became sweet and comforting. Her lungs burned as they filled with the dark fluid, and she felt the crushing weight on her chest as if an unseen force was squeezing the life from her. Her heart stuttered, then stopped, only to restart with a sickening thud, echoing in her ears like a drum. Her senses heightened, and the world around her became a cacophony of noise and a curtain of crimson. The smell of blood, both her own and that of the dark elixir, was intoxicating, and she could feel her newfound instincts urging her to feed, to hunt, to kill. As the transformation reached its peak, Annabelle's body arched off the ground, her back bowing unnaturally. A final, agonizing scream tore from her throat, and then, as suddenly as it had begun, the pain subsided. When she finally opened her eyes, they were a piercing yellow. The fractured irises remained. Star bursts of blue now in a field of amber hate. Thalor, seeing the cup on the ground, rushed towards Annabelle. She watched him as if he were in a dream. She calmly stood to meet him, his expression only changing after what felt like seconds to her. With devastating grace, she stepped out of the way, catching him by the shoulder, her claws digging into his flesh without resistance. As Thalor's momentum was halted, his body jerked back, his legs coming up from under him. With Thrallow's throat exposed, she sunk her new fangs down into his neck, tearing it open in one ferocious bite. His eyes went dark before his body hit the snow. Annabelle turned to Iskander, her mouth drip with Thalor's life essence, her eyes blazed with a mix of hatred and newfound power. The transformation had left her with a thirst for violence that matched her thirst for blood. Iskander, sensing the shift, opened his cloak, revealing the spiked chain coiled around his arm. With a fluid motion, he let the chain drop to the stone ground, the metal clanking against the hard surface. Annabelle began to circle him, her movements predatory and coaxing. Iskander mirrored her, his eyes locked on her every move, the chain ready in his hand. The blue haze that had once obscured him was calm and readable. No longer was he hidden behind the inferno. He was seen.

SPEAKER_02 26:48

I can see you.

SPEAKER_07 26:51

You have at least made your last moments interesting, little bird.

SPEAKER_01 26:57

Iskander struck first, the spike chain lashing out. Annabel dove to the side, the chain missing her by inches. Its spike scraping against the stone. She counted with a swipe of her claws, aiming for his throat, but Iskander merely leaned back, her claws dangerously close to finding their mark.

SPEAKER_02 27:19

Metter Demon.

SPEAKER_01 27:23

Iskander's lips curled into a sneer. The fight was a dance, as Annabel's claws and fangs were weapons of rage. She clawed like a cornered animal, grabbing at anything she could, tearing through flesh on his arms and sides. Iskander's chain found their mark on her arms and chest, drawing blood that mingled with the snow. Annabelle saw the blue mist that allowed her to dodge Iskander's attacks, but it also made her movements predictable. Iskander learned her movements and began to adapt, using her anticipation against her. He fainted, then struck, the chain catching her across the face, leaving a trail of blood.

SPEAKER_07 28:07

You are pathetic. A mere child who does not understand the power you wield. You only have a taste of what we are capable of.

SPEAKER_02 28:21

Keep underestimating me like everyone else. My walk will be long in the afterlife as I step over all of the bodies of those who died before you.

SPEAKER_01 28:31

Annabelle took in a deep breath, letting out a hellish scream. The snow around her rippled as the sound tore through the town center. The crowd dropped to their knees, all trying to cover their ears from the ghostly wail. Iskander was dazed for a moment, but it was enough as Annabelle closed the distance. The bite of his whip was agonizing as she chose to tackle him into the snow to take her chances there. They grappled, their bodies locked in a deadly embrace, each trying to overpower the other. Annabelle's claws dug into Iskander's back, tearing through flesh and muscle, drawing a grunt of pain from him. He retaliated by slamming his gauntlet into her face, the force of the blow sending her reeling back.

SPEAKER_07 29:17

You're a disgrace to the very blood that courses through your veins.

SPEAKER_01 29:22

Annabelle stumbled, her defenses faltering. Iskandasaur's opening and took it, the chain lashing out in a relentless assault.

SPEAKER_07 29:32

You're a disgrace to the very idea of strength. You're a disgrace to the idea of power.

SPEAKER_02 29:42

And you're a disgrace to the very notion of a worthy opponent.

SPEAKER_01 29:46

Iskander rose to his feet. He brought his whip for another strike. Annabelle saw an opportunity now and braced her nerves for the coming blow. The whip flashed across her body as she raised her arm, letting it coil around it. Spinning into the chain to close the distance, she moved quickly, releasing slack around the chain and wrapped it around his neck as she stepped behind him. She pulled him close, back to back as she made herself small, crouching onto the ground, pulling his heft over her. She pulled hard on the chain, leveraging him over her body. The spiked whip cut deep into Iskander's neck. His body contorted and arched over Annabelle as he tried desperately to get his fingers under it. Annabelle let out a primal scream as she moved and jerked, feeling the spike slowly cutting through Iskander's neck. Then she felt metal on bone. With one final scream, she yanked, feeling sinew and tendon break as Iskander's head toppled down in front of her. His corpse fell to the ground behind her. Annabelle took a moment to catch her breath, trying to process what she had done. Her mind flushed with rage, but a memory drifted through her mind.

SPEAKER_02 31:11

The head must be destroyed.

SPEAKER_01 31:14

Walking over to Rupert and picking up the stained glass sword, she looked it over longingly before returning to the savage head of Iskander. Without ceremony or hesitation, she plunged the sword down into the head, feeling the blade connect with the cobblestone underneath.

SPEAKER_02 31:33

All of you! Every last one of your monstrous family has been sentenced to death. I have judged them. The whales at the banshee will haunt them while I hunt.

SPEAKER_01 31:46

She pressed her boot into the head of Iskander before pulling the sword free.

SPEAKER_02 31:51

Your bloodline will be no more. I swear it.

SPEAKER_08 33:06

Echoes of the storm. Steel meets steel. The sparks take fly. The moon hides its face from the night. Blood runs thick like rivers wide. No place to run. No place to hide. Hearts are racing. The air is thin. This is where the fight begins. Echoes of the storm. They call, they call through the clash. Echoes of the storm. They burn, they sing The Banshee whales a ghostly tune underneath the blood red moon feet. On the ground, the tribal beat, the sound of victory from underneath.