Once Upon a Twist (6 page)

In those short, fractured seconds, Ella felt as if she were floating high above it all, able to observe the startled, but not as yet frightened, expression on the guests’ faces.

A soldier burst into the ballroom, stopping short when five hundred pairs of eyes fixed expectantly onto him.

Ella waited for him to speak. And waited some more. But all he did was stare at the crowd and blink repeatedly.

Taking matters into her own hands, she hurried over to him, dragging Izzy along with her. “Is it them?” She spoke quietly, making sure not to move her lips too much.

The soldier simply gawked, as if he could not believe a woman would address him.

“Well?” she harried, rapidly losing patience at his moronic stupefaction. “Have the undead arrived?”

And then she saw it wasn’t the usual misogyny over her sex preventing him from talking. It was terror. And as she looked more closely she could see tiny flecks glimmering from the reflected lights of the plentiful chandeliers scattered all over him. His face was marked with a scattering of tiny red marks which, with a horror that froze her veins, she recognized as blood.

The veritable explosion…

The echoes of smashing glass…

Her chest icy with fear, she took a step back, her heart starting a rapid drum that vibrated through her, dimly aware the whites of the soldier’s eyes were reddening.

Too scared to blink, she witnessed the color drain from his face, turning the skin a strange, pale grey.

Think.

And still she stared.

Think!

Like watching a sand-carving disintegrate in the breeze, Ella watched as the soldier’s features morphed from terror into an expression of such blandness that a cold snake slithered up her spine.

Her involuntary shiver had the effect of clearing her brain of the freezing fog holding her in its grip.

The ballroom was so silent the sound of a solitary footstep would break the spell that was locking them all into a terrified trance.

She could not move her gaze from the soldier’s eyes. In the depths of the darkening redness still lurked a shred of humanity. She could see it, clinging in there, the last ray of light from the possessor of the body’s soul.

Fight
, she beseeched him with her eyes.
Please, fight
.

In her heart she knew it was a losing battle. Not only was she terrified of the consequences when the humanity that bound the two of them together broke, but she was scared for this body’s soul, the very thing that made this fleshly animal human.

And then the light in his eyes went out.

Chapter Six

The soldier’s lips twisted into a macabre, marionette grin, his teeth bared, dripping with an abundance of gloopy saliva.

Only the heightened adrenaline coursing through Ella’s veins saved her. The second the creature lunged at her, she shoved Izzy as hard as she could out of the creature’s reach.

Together they plunged to the floor, Izzy slamming onto the cold surface first with a sickly crack.

There was no time for Ella to check her stepsister for injuries. The creature, which until seconds before had been a living being, had stumbled but remained upright. His blank yet somehow lascivious gaze was no longer fixed on them. It was now directed at the other guests, who were all inching backwards, still unaware of the mortal danger they were in.

And then he pounced, jumping five feet in a perfect arch, at a young woman who had no time to anticipate the attack.

The woman screamed as the creature’s teeth sank into her neck, penetrating the jugular. Blood spurted out, soaking her dance partner, who could only look on in dazed incomprehension.

That was the moment panic finally set in with the crowd.

It was impossible that everyone had seen what just happened, but the fear from the few close enough to witness it swept through the guests like a contagion.

Ella watched in horror as hundreds of people, men and women alike, all rushed towards the double doors, the only exit from the ballroom.

“Wait!” she yelled. “There may be more of them outside!”

But of course, no one paid her any heed, the panic mentality outstripping their reason.

The creature’s victim had gone limp in his arms. Her partner – a soldier – had deserted her. With ruthless disregard, she was thrown to the floor.

Nausea rolled in Ella’s stomach when she saw the half-chewed neck and face.

Stumbling to her feet, she yanked at Izzy’s hand. “Get up,” she urged, wholly aware of the creature plundering his way towards his next victim. “We need to get out of here.”

Tears streamed down Izzy’s face. “I think I’ve broken my arm.”

“I’m sorry, but if we don’t get out of here you’ll have a lot more than a broken bone to contend with.”

As she spoke, the dead young woman splayed on the floor to their right, twitched.

Ella whipped her head at the same moment the dead – no,
undead
– woman sat up with superhuman jerks and immediately focused her one remaining eye on Izzy.

“Get up!” Ella beseeched.

But Izzy was too scared to move. Her eyes widened with terror as the creature who had once, possibly, been a friend lurched to her feet.

The undead soldier was quickly adjusting to his new body. From the screams that echoed around the ballroom like a school of banshees, he had found his next victim.

But this female creature was still an uncertain newbie. Her jerky movements, which contained the same ungainliness as a toddler who had just learned to walk, gave Ella time to remember the heels of her glass slippers.

With a deftness she had never dreamed she possessed, she pressed the diamond. The heel came off neatly in her hand, the blade twinkling like stained glass. Although her hands were damp and shaking, she kept her finger pressed on the diamond until it was fully extended to the length of a sword, completing her task with barely a second to spare before the female launched herself.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. The creature was mere feet away from Izzy when Ella’s glass blade penetrated her chest, stopping her in her tracks.

Ella blinked in shock, wiping away a lock of damp hair that was sticking to her forehead.

The undead female stared down with mild curiosity at the object that was sticking through her heart. But she did not fall down. Not even close.

Instead she fixed her creepy, puppet-like grin on Ella, whose clammy fingers were in danger of losing their grip on the blade handle, and extended her arms to her.

Why was she still standing
? The blade had penetrated the undead female’s heart; gone through it as easily as a knife slicing through butter.

The answer came to her in a flash. They weren’t called the undead for nothing. How do you kill someone whose heart was no longer beating?

As quick as a flash, Ella pulled the blade out of the undead’s chest, swung it back, and sliced it through the air, taking the creature’s head with it.

The sound of a head bouncing on the hard floor was something she knew she would live with for the rest of her life, no matter how long or short that life may be.

But she felt no remorse, not for the creature whose humanity had already been taken. All she felt as she surveyed the carnage going on around her, the fleeing guests trampling over each other in their frantic need to escape, and the scent of iron that was thickening with every passing breath, was adrenaline fuelled rage.

Every fiber of her being was consumed with it.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” she told a terrified Izzy, releasing the heel from the other slipper and quickly extending it. “Use this – remember, you need to chop their heads off. They won’t die otherwise.”

“But Ella…”

“If you want to live Izzy, you
must fight
.”

Ella ran over to where the main carnage was taking place and in her haste stumbled over the hem of her dress. Letting out an oath of frustration, she stabbed at the skirt with the blade, creating a hole which she dug her fingers into and pulled. Frustrated fury had her blood pumping steel, and the silk ripped off in one, leaving the ragged skirt of her dress barely covering her thighs. Not that she cared. At that moment she was so pumped up she wouldn’t have cared if she were naked.

The original soldier had multiplied. Now there were five of the undead creatures. Charging at the nearest she sliced its head off then focused on the next. She slayed them, quickly and methodically, not giving them any time to fight back. As she had already noted, unless one of the undead was directly fixated on you, it paid you no heed.

She swallowed as she surveyed the four other people who had been bitten. Two were laid out dead, their skulls open, their brains half-eaten. The other two were in a fairly early stage of transformation. These two had not died and were, theoretically, still human.

No matter how hard she tried to raise her hand to put them out of their misery, she couldn’t do it. Their humanity was still there.

One of them, the mother of an old childhood friend – was she called Josephine? How desperately she wished she could remember – stared at her, pleading. Her once pretty eyes beseeched Ella to kill her. Josephine knew what she was becoming.

The dead bodies on the floor had started to twitch and jerk. Ella ignored them, forcing her hands to swing the blade high. It was not until the woman she hoped was called Josephine managed to jerk a nod that Ella swung the blade down, closing her eyes upon impact.

In the brief darkness she heard a collective gasp. Fluttering her eyes back open, she saw one of the dead had sat upright.

A voice from the crowd screamed out. “Kill it!”

She didn’t need telling twice.

She swung the blade high and sliced, quickly dispatching it.

That left just one more. This one, a young girl on the cusp of womanhood, was still fighting the transformation, uncomprehending.

“
Kill it, kill it, kill it
.”

From where the low, incessant refrain started Ella did not know. She didn’t want to know. Surely these people weren’t regarding all this carnage as
entertainment
?

“She’s not fully changed.” Somehow she managed to drag the words out. “She’s still human.”

But then she witnessed the light go out. This time she knew exactly what to do, and there was no hesitation.

Silence rent the great ballroom.

Ella’s hand did not loosen its grip on the blade’s handle until she had completed a full 360 turn, unwilling to drop her guard a solitary inch until she was satisfied no other creature had slipped the net. As she completed this – what she hoped would be her final task before grabbing Izzy, finding James, and running off to safety – she noticed the expectancy of all the staring eyes.

“Is it over?” asked a short woman wearing the most ludicrous electric blue dress Ella had ever seen.

Ella shook her head, helplessness washing through her as she reduced the size of the blade. How could she tell them that it was likely hundreds, if not thousands, more of these creatures were on their way to the palace? That’s if they hadn’t already arrived.
Someone or something threw that soldier through the window.

“Are there more of them?”

How she wished she could lie and pretend that everything was going to be all right. “Yes.”

“What are we to do?”

“I don’t know.”

Now the crowd had stopped trying to pile through the exit, the ruckus through the threshold had abated enough to allow a couple of men through. As though two red-hot bricks had been thrown at them, the crowd parted, practically tripping over each other in their haste to create distance.

The smidgeon of hope created at their arrival dimmed when she realized neither of the men were James.
Please, please, please, let him be safe.

“We have been sent to lead you to safety,” the elder of the soldiers said pompously. “If everyone could form an orderly queue, we shall leave immediately.”

“Where are you taking us?” Ella asked.

“We don’t have time for questions,
mademoiselle
. The Prince has given his orders.”

“The Prince? He is safe?”

“He is organizing the Knights and soldiers to defend the interior of the palace. Now come with us.”

She stood her ground. Now she knew James was not in immediate danger, she could think a lot more clearly. “Where are you taking us?”

“We need to go
now
.”

“For the last time, where are you taking us? And where are the undead?”

Shaking his head in exasperation, the younger of the soldiers stepped forward. “They’ve just learned to swim. That’s why we need to go now. They’ve breached the moat. We’re going to lead you all to the back of the palace and from there we will find safety. Now can we please leave?”

Ella folded her arms, taking care not to stab herself with the shortened blade. Glaring at him with mutinous obstinacy, she said, “You do realize we’ll be moving targets? We’ll be outside in the dark where they’ll have all the advantages. If we can sit tight until daylight, we can escape to safety then.”

Both soldiers stared at her as if she had gone bonkers. Were all men such misogynists or was it only the men of this land? “We have our orders…”

“Fine,” she snapped. “Go ahead with your orders and lead the people out to their deaths.”

Chapter Seven

A debonair young man spoke up, looking directly at Ella. “What do you suggest?”

“The wine cellar,” she said, speaking the plan as it formulated in her head. “Not only can we lock them out – I believe the cellar door is reinforced – but they won’t be able to hear us down there. If they can’t see us they won’t look for us.”

“Then let us go there.”

“We cannot allow that,” the elder soldier said, his tone betraying his impatience. “We have our orders.”

“Oh bollocks to your orders,” said a wizened old woman. “This young lady just killed ten of those dreadful creatures without any assistance from you. We trust her.”