Shades of Grey

NEW YORK— APRIL, PRESENT DAY

Sam stared at Grey, his mouth agape.

“You’re a Vampire?!” he choked in astonishment.

“Only a Half-Vampire,” she replied softly. “The other half is still Graylight Dragon.”

“I don’t understand, doesn’t that violate the Code?” he asked.

“When you are prophesied to destroy every Creature on the planet, the Council tends to bend the rules for you a bit,” Grey replied with a smirk. “And since I’m only a full Vanguard when I’m dangerously thirsty, I’m not as big of a threat as I could have been.”

Sam took a beat to process this and then turned to Forma.

“What sorts of limitations do you have now?”

Forma shifted into herself, shuddering in irritation.

“I can no longer morph into people, I can only transform into animals known to the humans and Creatures…”

“It could have been worse,” Grey mused. “You might have been stuck forever as whatever you changed into to battle the demon Evan had summoned.”

“I know but it makes things difficult, especially since adults can’t see you,” Forma replied.

“Why is that?” Sam asked.

Grey turned to him.

“Over the decades as I eliminated more Creatures and as man grew more dependent on machine, adults seemed to forget about Creatures and Hunters. Their capacity for imagination began to shrink until anyone over the age of twenty did not have the ability to see me…the last remaining Creature on the planet…”

“But kids can comprehend something fantastical like vampires as being real, so they can see you,” Sam concluded, quietly thanking God that his twentieth birthday was three years away.

Grey nodded solemnly and for a moment, Sam thought he saw tears of remorse briefly well in her eyes. He quickly changed the subject.

“What did you do after seeing the Council?”

Grey smiled at his still fervent interest, for it had taken nearly four hours for her to relay her tale, and sighed before continuing.

“After flying through the window, I have no memory of what happened. Forma tells me I nearly levelled Alfheim in my gluttonous rage before she was able to restrain me.”

There was a brief moment of misty reminiscence as Forma’s face contorted into a frown of remembrance. It was clear that whatever had happened had deeply affected her and would probably haunt her for the remainder of her days.

“After that,” Grey continued. “The next ten years are a blank in my memory. My next memory was awaking over the corpse of an unfortunate young girl that crossed my path.”

Grey’s violet eyes darkened in remorse.

“I was found thankfully by Lanek and some Cambrian Hunters who took me to the newly rebuilt city of Acavia where I moved from the psychotic, hungry status of a newborn vampire to the relatively controlled sanity of a fledgling; able to summon the Vanguard abilities when I needed them while returning to my normal state when I didn’t: the first Hybrid in the history of Creatures.”

She scoffed, as though it were some sort of honour that no one in his or her right mind would think of bestowing on anyone.

“I’ve never forgiven you for going through that alone, you know,” Forma said, turning to Grey. “I could have helped you.”

Grey’s expression grew distant as she remembered those early days. Forma grew silent as well. Sam shifted uncomfortably.

“Have you fed from humans often?” he asked quietly.

Grey’s intense eyes grew wide with an emotion that Sam could not identify. It looked frightfully like hunger, but it also held semblances of piercing shame… as though she were not proud of it, but human blood was the one thing she desired most.

“I try not to, but human blood is the most…satisfying.”

Sam sat back, unknowingly covering his neck with his hands before redirecting the conversation.

“So, after you had learned to control your hunger and your powers, what did you do then?”

Grey shifted her weight.

“After I left Acavia, I was captured by a group of Catholic radicals called the Caligati who starved me until the beast was completely in control again. I spent six months at their mercy before awaking in an arena across from a badly beaten Forma: the Caligati had forced the beast inside of me to attack her, thinking I would let it kill her. But I awoke and managed to get us both out before Forma passed out. We spent another few months getting Forma to recover before we made our way to London to the spot where my parents’ house had been, which was another mistake.”

“Why?” inquired Sam.

Grey and Forma exchanged looks.

“That is also a long story for another time.”

Sam bit his lip, trying not to beg them to tell him everything. Grey cocked a small smile at his growing curiosity and continued.

“We remained there for a while until rumours of the Creature Hunters began to resurface. At first I ignored them, dismissing it as silly gossip, but when my name and my particular adventures began to come up in the gossip, I knew it was time to leave.”

“So that’s how it started…” marvelled Sam. “…the urban legend.”

Grey nodded.

“Soon after that, I travelled through Europe and other continents, destroying every Creature I came across with newfound ease and speed. Around the turn of the twentieth century, I boarded a ship to America where I began to travel the country, vanquishing monsters of a new kind: criminals.”

“You became a vigilante?” Sam cried in surprise.

“No,” Grey pressed firmly. “I was simply doing what I have trained to do my entire life: hunt monsters.”

Sam sat back, absorbing everything he had learned.

“Have you told others?”

Grey nodded.

“Three to be precise,” Forma interjected. “There was a girl in Olympia who was a bit younger than you are. She happened to see us stop a group of men before they kidnapped a girl from a parking lot, then she followed us and wouldn’t stop bothering us until we told her. Then when we stopped in Portland and there was a girl who, like you, had been studying us for a while and followed us back to our apartment after recognising us in a shopping venue. The last boy was a reporter in Nevada who saw me stop a runaway bus from colliding with a train and worked day and night to find us, begging for an interview. After hearing our story, however, he decided that his editor would not believe it. It was too crazy.”

“So, Sam,” Grey said after Forma had finished. “What shall we tell the next person who finds us about you?”

Sam laughed and smiled to himself.

“Whatever you want to tell them,” he said. “I’m not one to tell a vampire and a fairy what to say.”

Grey and Forma smiled. Grey then looked out a window.

“My word, it’s getting late. Sam, you should get going.”

Sam looked outside at the rainy darkness that had fallen across the city and realized that it was almost nine o’clock. He sighed and reluctantly stood, hearing the crinkling of the Van Helsing comic in his bag. Grey and Forma stood as well and escorted him to the door and down the staircase to the abandoned café.

“Will I see you again?” he dared to ask.

Grey smiled.

“They always ask that,” she marvelled to Forma.

“So, that’s a no then?” Sam said knowingly.

“I’m afraid so,” Grey replied sadly. “For your own safety.”

“I understand. It’s kind of a weird request. No wonder everyone thinks I’m crazy…”

Grey smiled.

“The people that society deems ‘crazy’ are usually the most gifted,” she replied in a smooth voice. She then held his face steady with her cold hands and stared at him with her piercing violet eyes. “And if everyone ‘crazy’ listened to society, our world would be in an even worse state than it already is.”

Sam smiled.

“Thanks.”

“Of course. Goodbye Sam.”

“Goodbye Grey.”

Sam then carefully opened the wall that led to the empty café before pulling on his hood and stealthily slipping onto the stormy New York sidewalk.

Grey and Forma slowly made their way back up the staircase and into the spacious loft, locking the door behind them.

“You know, you should really write your story down,” Forma mused. “Then we wouldn’t have to keep re-telling it every time someone asked. And you could silence all of those stupid professors who think you were nothing more than an insane serial killer.”

“You think so?” Grey mused, laying down against a chaise lounge and taking a drink of water from a goblet on the side table. “I don’t know…I kind of enjoy hearing the wild theories. It’s always good for a laugh.”

“I’m just tired of hearing that people think I was nothing more than an eight-year-old child you took captive and then brainwashed.”

Grey frowned in thought.

“I suppose it’s not really such a terrible idea…”

“Of course not: it’s your story, you should write it yourself. Publish it and title it ‘The Unofficial Biography of Grey Echo.’ Your pen name could be Gillian Eastman.”

Grey laughed aloud.

“Very funny.”

“I thought so.”

Grey reached over towards a red leatherbound journal that sat on the coffee table in front of her. She picked up a thick wooden pen that sat next to it, opened the journal and began to write, when her sensitive ears picked up a scuffle outside that would have gone unnoticed to the rest of New York City, especially in the midst of such driving rains.

“Gimme your money!” a rough voice commanded.

“I don’t have any! Please leave me alone!” cried a petrified voice.

“Don’t gimme that bullshit! Look at you, you reek of Upper East Side!” spat another voice.

“Forma,” Grey said sharply.

“I hear it too. Do you want me to come or would you prefer to do it by yourself?”

Grey smiled eagerly.

“I think I can handle this,” she said as she stood and flew out the door in a flash of movement.

“I’ll stand by just in case you need me,” Forma assured.

“Thank you,” Grey replied as she rounded the street corner, following the harsh voices with ease through the darkened streets of New York, dodging the strange crowd that overtook the city at night. Within seconds, she had crossed ten city blocks and arrived at the alley where the attack was taking place. She leapt from the ground and landed smoothly on the fire escape above the action, noting with a heavy heart that Sam was the target of the attack.

Several large men were advancing on him, glinting knives pointed menacingly towards his thin form. Sam tried so very hard to stand his ground and search for an escape but it was clear that panic was rising inside of him.

“Look, I have no money! I don’t have anything of value!” he cried, needing to shout over the volume of the downpour. “You’re wasting your time!”

“Well, we’ll see how much you really got,” sneered one of them, preparing to attack.

Grey summoned her Vanguard thirst and made use of her vampiric abilities. She acted instantly, dropping to the ground and bringing her iron-hard foot into the gut of the man on Sam’s left. He collided into the brick wall and collapsed to the ground. The other two men gaped in shock at their fallen comrade before turning back to Sam, unable to see Grey.

“How’d you do that?!” they cried.

Sam gave a genuine shrug, clearly still in shock.

Grey moved quickly to the next man, roundhouse kicking him in the jaw and sending him against the opposite wall. However, just as Grey was about to attack the last man, she noticed something flicker in his eyes, a familiar sort of malice that she had spent her entire life training to eliminate. He could see her; this was no ordinary mugger...

“Run, Sam!” she roared over the driving rains, but before Sam had a chance to obey, the man ran with unearthly speed around Grey towards Sam. In a split second, Grey turned and blocked the man’s lunge, knocking him across the alley into the opposite brick wall. The force sent a visible shudder through the building, causing the fire escape to whine in protest.

“RUN, SAM!” Grey repeated as she wrestled the man.

Sam’s muscles failed him. He tried to move but he could not peel his eyes away from the superhuman battle occurring before him. He blinked his eyes multiple times, trying to force them to register more than blurs, but he could not. He stood transfixed to his place and watching with bated breath.

“What are you? I killed you all!” she shouted as she slammed the man deep into the pavement and crouched above him, gripping his collar with her acidic fingers and making sure to expose her sharp Vampiric teeth. “Where have you been hiding?”

“Why do you protect him?!” the man shouted back at her, nodding to Sam who still stood cowering against the brick wall.

“Forma,” she called telepathically. “I could use some assistance.”

“Already on the way,” Forma replied promptly.

“Take Sam home first.”

“What’s going on? Is there a Creature there?”

“Just take Sam away from here. Then I will explain.”

Grey took the man by the throat and threw him across the alley, dangerously close to the public sidewalk. Grey stood still and listened behind her as she heard a whoosh of wings and the brief protestations of Sam as Forma arrived to take him away.

The man stood quickly with otherworldly poise that she had not seen since she fought the last of the Vetala clans in Toronto fifty years before. She reached into the inside pocket of her jacket and pulled out a long golden saber. She twirled it listlessly in her hands as she dampened the Vanguard personality and moved the wet hair from her now normal lavender eyes, approaching the crouching man.

“Why do you protect him?” the man repeated. “Why do you protect any of them?”

“Because it is what I was born to do,” Grey said simply. “What I must do.”

In another flash of wildly agile movement, Grey leapt atop the creature, kicking off of the ground. She leapt over the streets of New York until she landed atop the building across the way, far out of the view of any wandering human eye.

Several more tense moments of battle unfolded on the rooftop as Grey fought the strong man. With another flash of movement, Forma arrived on the rooftop and joined Grey. Forma promptly transformed into a Dragare and forced the man’s arms behind him, restricting his movement. Grey leapt toward him and held the sword to his throat.

“Why have you come here?” she inquired. “What business do you have with me?”

“I have been sent to track the Hunter that has become that which she Hunts,” he replied with a mad laugh.

“By who?”

“Someone with a very keen interest in her well-being.”

The man then shook away his wet hair and allowed Grey to look at him fully for the first time. She studied his skeletal face, his unearthly pale skin and startlingly golden sunken eyes under a mop of dark hair. It looked as if he had been dead for quite some time…

“My God…” she gasped. “Liam?”

He nodded and Grey took several steps backwards in shock, gaping at him.

“How?!”

Liam laughed, his jaw falling directly onto his chest as he did.

“A Vetala spirit took over my body and we battled for control. Obivously, I won. After that, I worked to train the Vetala and now it only serves to keep me moving. I heard rumours about you and I’ve been tracking you ever since.”

“How long ago was this?” she asked.

“Nearly fifty years, it was somewhere near Toronto.”

Grey bit her lips in rage.

“When I took out the last of the Vetala…”

“Well, it seems one got away, didn’t it?”

Liam cracked a smile when something suddenly overcame him. His face twisted into a ravenous snarl and he turned on Forma, tearing into her flesh with insatiable hunger before turning to an unflinching Grey. She gripped the saber with all her strength and in one shot she drove it through his chest and threw him across the roof, satisfied as he fell limp with death.

“Are you alright?” she asked as she saw to Forma’s injury.

“I’m fine,” Forma replied through a grunt of pain. She ripped off a bit of her shirt and wrapped it around the laceration, shielding it from the elements.

“It looks pretty deep…” Grey said with worry.

“It’s fine…” Forma’s voice — which had started out with a biting tone — faded as she saw something behind Grey.

Grey quickly turned and saw that somehow, Liam’s body had caught fire and the Vetala spirit that had inhabited it was now twitching and convulsing as the flames of the fire devoured him. Both Forma and Grey covered their ears as the Vetala began to shriek in pain at a nearly ultrasonic level before the twitching began to evanesce and nothing remained but a smoldering pile of ashes.

“I had hoped that our interaction was finished on the day of our de-Federation,” said a solemn familiar voice from the shadows behind the corpse.

Grey and Forma held their breaths as they looked behind the dying flames and beheld a face they had not seen in decades.

“Ryder!” Grey exclaimed, running over to him in a flash of unearthly movement and embracing him with her unequalled strength. Ryder coughed at the sudden force.

“I’m so glad to see you!” Grey exhaled; unaware of how tightly she was holding him.

“Me too, but I would enjoy breathing as well!” he sputtered. Grey backed away sharply.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he replied, taking in a few deep breaths before he studied Grey. “So it’s true then? You’re a half-Vanguard now?”

Grey nodded shamefully.

“Yes,” she replied in a small voice, noting with a heavy heart that there was a visible dullness in his Maisling light: a dullness that came from being magically separated from your Hunter forever.

Ryder took her face in his hands and studied it; his eyes tracing her flawlessly pale complexion, her fiercly violet eyes and her blindingly white teeth.

“You’re still an amazing Hunter. I have heard all about your trials and adventures since the battle at the Vampire City. Don’t ever feel ashamed at what you have become.”

Grey cocked a smile and nodded, before stepping aside to allow Forma the chance to greet Ryder. Forma did not move for several moments, the shock still too potent. Grey smiled as they both stared at the other, the amorous tension growing.

“Hello Forma,” Ryder finally said.

“Oh God…” Forma whispered in shock. She then laughed in elation and within a second she flew across the roof and into his strong arms, which he locked instantly around her.

“What are you doing here?!” Forma cried into his thick hair.

“I can’t remember,” he said lightly. “You’ve made me forget.”

Forma laughed and slid out of his arms, her eyes never daring to leave his.

“Oh right,” he joked as she stepped out of his reach. “Now I remember…”

“Good,” Grey interjected firmly. “Then would you care to illuminate us, or would you like Forma to leave the roof?”

Ryder laughed.

“No, no, she needs to hear,” his voice slowly grew serious as he remembered exactly what he was supposed to relay. “Is there somewhere inside where we could talk?”

Grey blinked. This must be important.

“Er, yes. Follow me to my loft.”

Ryder and Forma both transformed into hawks and took off into the stormy night as Grey changed into her Dragon form, roaring in elation as she stretched her Graylight vocal chords. During moments like this, she was glad that the humans could not see her. She smiled to herself as she imagined what stories they would tell the following day to explain the strange roaring noises that flew over Manhattan during the night. It probably was not the smartest thing to do, but Grey didn’t care. It felt good to fly.

It took them less than a minute to cross the ten blocks back to the abandoned café. Grey shifted easily out of her Dragon self and landed with quiet grace onto the sidewalk followed by the two Maislings.

“You live here?” Ryder said with audible disgust as they entered the dilapidated café.

“Just wait a moment,” Grey cautioned as she pulled open the secret door and revealed the staircase. “It’s not as terrible as it looks.”

Ryder cocked his head in curious intrigue as they ascended the stairs to the front door and entered the loft. His jaw fell agape as he beheld their collection.

“Wow…I haven’t seen so much Hunter lore since leaving the Underground…” Ryder murmured.

“Took us almost ten years to acquire it all,” Forma mused. “Recognise the iron fence?”

Forma pointed to the wrought iron gate that ran around the walls and Ryder smiled.

“The gate to the Maisling nursery?” he guessed. Forma nodded.

“We visited the wreckage of the school and salvaged what we could. Taking this was Grey’s idea and originally, I was against it. Now I kind of like it. It’s sort of…nostalgic.”

Ryder smiled and touched the grate, equally reflective.

“It was a simpler time, wasn’t it?” he mused.

Forma and Grey both nodded in agreement. There was a beat of melancholy silence before Forma touched Ryder’s arm, noting that his skin was several shades paler than it should have been.

“What is it like, if you don’t mind my asking?” she said softly. “The de-Federation?”

Ryder took a long, dark pause before answering.

“Painful,” he replied with a quiet pathos. “It is the most painful process one can ever experience: so many years of bonding, so many years of training, everything you know is severed and one half is ripped from you. You don’t feel completely whole anymore.”

Forma covered her gaping mouth, regretting her question.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, taking his hand. “I didn’t mean to…”

“No, it’s alright. It’s been over a century. I’m fine.”

Ryder took a deep breath before seguing them back to the reason behind his visit.

“Well, shall we sit down?” he suggested.

“Right,” Grey said quickly. “This way.”

The trio sat on the couch in the living room where Sam had sat tensely earlier with such naïve interest in their history. Forma and Grey now sat tense with nerves as they waited for Ryder to divulge his information.

He took a reflective breath before speaking.

“Have you noticed foul smells in the air? Felt strange forces at work?”

Grey frowned.

“The world has changed much. There will always be foul smells and strange forces. Mankind is a creature unto himself.”

“No, darker than man…black as a Creature of our age.”

There was a black pause of contemplation as Forma and Grey exchanged a knowing look.

“What exactly are you speaking of?” whispered Forma.

“I have been working with the Council to contact all living Hunters and they have all spoken of things from strange whispers in the wind to dark shadows that follow them at night.”

“Ryder, just tell me what you are trying to say,” Grey said forcefully.

Ryder took a deep breath.

“The Council has ordered the reconstruction of the School. They are hiring quondam Hunters to teach the next generation.”

“Why would they need to teach another generation?” Grey asked. “Forma and I have destroyed all of the Creatures from the Rip.”

“That’s just the problem: the Council has predicted a second Rip.”

Grey and Forma sat back and stared at each other in shock.

“A second Rip?!” Forma repeated in shock. “When?”

“Sometime within the next decade. There will be a gathering of Hunters at the newly constructed school on the 18th of next month to discuss a plan of action.”

“How many have you spoken with?” Grey inquired.

“Fifty-three Hunters are still living, twenty-two of which still have live Maislings. You are the last I need to speak with before reporting back to the Council.”

Grey ran her fingers through her damp hair as she pondered this information.

“Am I the only one that is no longer human?”

Ryder nodded darkly. There was a brief pause before Grey exhaled in irritation.

“What does the Council expect me to do, then? Return to the school and teach Tyrohunters? Would they truly permit me to comfortably socialize with human children?”

Ryder cocked a smile.

“You’ve done it this long, haven’t you?”

Grey sighed and ran her tongue over her sharp teeth, thinking back over her many years of working to control the desire to drink, to drain…to kill…

Without moving a muscle, she flicked her eyes back to Ryder.

“What do they want me to teach?” she asked. Ryder grinned.

“That is to be decided at the summit next month but I can tell you that they hold you in the highest regard. They may offer you the position of headmistress.”

Grey frowned. To be headmistress of the Greatheart Academy of Creature Hunting after decades of traversing the world, it seemed so…menial.

“You may get your wish after all Grey,” snorted Forma after a minute. Grey smoothly turned to her.

“What wish?”

“To stay at the school and teach.”

Grey chuckled as she recalled the hours before Commencement and her fears about the world outside the school walls.

“So…may I tell the Council that you will be present?” Ryder asked.

Grey paused in thought, thinking about all she had experienced over the last century: after such a long and exciting life out in the world as a Hunter, could she really become headmistress of the school she had once called home?

“Yes.”