The Ghost and the Half-Blood

  The Ghost and the Half-Blood

“Marley, I’m too old for this running, my sweet child,” Mek Hemlock wheezed, his breath coming in laboured gasps as he stumbled over the uneven ground. The rest of the group was already several paces ahead, their hurried footsteps barely audible over the pounding of Marley’s heart. “I know, Mr. Hemlock,” Marley replied, her voice laced with urgency as she gently gripped his arm to steady him. “But we have to keep going if we want to live. It’s almost nightfall. We can’t let them find us.” She cast a wary glance at the darkening sky, where the last slivers of daylight were quickly fading. Every second they delayed brought them closer to when the monsters would emerge from the shadows. Mek nodded weakly, his lined face etched with exhaustion and sorrow. Marley felt a pang of sadness for the old man; his wife had been one of the taken, snatched away in the dead of night, leaving Mek with nothing but memories and a heart full of grief, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on the loss. They had to move, or they would be the next victims.

They caught up with the group just as the first stars glimmered faintly in the twilight sky. The other townspeople looked at Marley, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and hope. She had been their leader since her father's death, the one who had always known what to do and where to go. Tonight, she led them to the only place she knew they might be safe: Mek Hemlock’s bunker. Mek took the lead, his steps slow but determined as he guided them through the last stretch of the Hemlock's farming fields. Finally, they reached a small clearing where three weathered water barrels stood in a row, seemingly forgotten amidst the tall grass. The sight of them brought a wave of relief crashing over Marley.

Mek turned to Marley, his eyes glistening in the dim light. “This will always be your sign that you’ve made it,” he said, his voice tinged with pride and sadness. Without another word, he reached into the end barrel, his hand disappearing into the murky water. Marley held her breath as she watched him pull out a thin string, nearly invisible in the darkness. No one would have ever found this, Marley thought in awe as Mek gave the string a firm tug. There was a soft click, followed by a low rumbling as the ground beneath the barrels shifted. A hidden door creaked open, revealing a narrow stairway leading down into the earth. “This way,” Mek whispered, beckoning the group to follow him into the bunker. One by one, the townspeople descended into the darkness, their fear momentarily overshadowed by the hope of safety.

As Marley prepared to follow them, she couldn’t help but smile. Her father had always been a master of secrets, a man who knew how to hide in plain sight. Even beyond the grave, he was still helping her, guiding her, protecting the people she had sworn to save. As Marley stood at the bunker's entrance, a sudden chill ran down her spine, the kind that came not from the cold but from the unsettling feeling of being watched. Her instincts, honed by years of survival, screamed that something was wrong. Without hesitation, she grabbed Cassandra by the arm, pulling her close. “Cass, I can’t go with you,” Marley whispered urgently. “Take my gun and shoot anyone who isn’t me. Don’t come out here, okay? Not until you see me again. If you need something, send John. He’s the only one and only during the daytime.” Cassandra’s eyes widened, but she nodded, her hand shaking slightly as Marley pressed the cold metal of the gun into her palm. “Do not tell anyone until everyone is settled,” Marley continued, her voice firm despite the fear gnawing at her insides. “Go and tell Mek to lock this place down. Don’t let anyone out.”

“Mar…” Cassandra’s voice trembled as she whispered, “Please stay safe. We all need you.” Marley managed a tight smile though her heart was pounding in her chest. “I’ll be back, I promise. Just keep everyone safe, Cass.” Without waiting for a response, Marley turned and bolted into the night, her feet barely making a sound as she sprinted across the darkened field. The old barn on the other side of the property loomed ahead, its silhouette a shadowy outline against the fading light. She knew it well; it had once been a place filled with laughter and the clucking of hens, but now it stood abandoned, a relic of a world that no longer existed. But Marley wasn’t heading there for nostalgia. She had to confirm what her instincts were telling her, to confront whatever or whoever was watching them. She had to do it before the night claimed them all. The wind whipped through her hair as she ran, carrying the faintest hint of something she couldn’t quite place. A presence, a sense of danger that made her blood run cold. She was being hunted, just as she had hunted so many others.

And Marley knew exactly who was behind it.

The Ghost had found them.

Marley’s breath came in ragged gasps as she finally reached the old barn on the far side of the property. The building had been abandoned for years, its weathered wooden frame creaking in the wind, but to Marley, it was a refuge, a place she had hidden in more than once while searching for surviving families. She was now grateful for the space's familiarity, knowing every nook and cranny. She slipped inside, her eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. The smell of dust and old wood filled the air, a reminder of what this place had once been. She moved silently, her heart pounding as she made her way to the hidden safe room beneath the stairs, concealed by hay barrels. It wasn’t much, but it had saved her before. Marley reached the safe room and carefully pushed open the door, the hinges groaning softly in protest. She stepped inside and flicked on the dim light, knowing it was too faint to be noticeable from outside the room. She looked around, her eyes scanning the small, cramped space for any sign of disturbance. When she was satisfied that she was alone, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered under her breath, the tension of the night catching up with her; before she could relax, a creak echoed from above her in the barn. The sound froze her in place, her hand instinctively reaching for the light switch. She quickly shut it off, plunging the room back into darkness. Marley moved to the corner of the room that offered the best vantage point, her breathing slow and controlled as she strained to listen. After what felt like an eternity, the barn fell silent once more. Cautiously, she returned to the light switch, reaching out to flick it on again. Before she could, the energy in the room shifted, and a cold dread settled over her. She felt the presence before she saw it, and slowly, she turned to face the corner where she had just been standing. A massive silhouette loomed there, its sheer size dominating the small space. Marley’s heart skipped a beat as she took in the figure before her. The man was enormous, his broad shoulders nearly touching the walls on either side. His presence filled the room, a dark, oppressive force that made the air thick with tension. Marley wouldn’t back down, not now, not ever, even if it meant her death.

“Why are you doing this?” she demanded, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides. Her hands moved with practiced ease, pulling a dagger from her inner thigh and another from her waist, never taking her gaze off the shadowed figure. The man stepped forward into the faint light, finally revealing himself. As he did, he slowly drew a sword from the sheath on his back, the blade black and gold, as if the gods themselves had carved it. The metal gleamed ominously, a weapon forged for one purpose: death. Marley’s eyes travelled up the length of the blade, following it to the man’s face; she gasped. She had never seen a man so beautiful. His features were striking, with a strong jawline, high cheekbones, and a perfectly symmetrical face. His blue eyes, darker than midnight, held an intensity that made her blood run cold. He looked like a warrior from ancient legends, like a god of war himself, coming to life. “You’re different than most,” the man said, his deep voice resonating through the small room. “Ballsy, too.” Marley narrowed her eyes, her grip tightening on her daggers. “Don’t be a coward now, Mr. Ghost,” she spat, her voice laced with contempt. “You don’t scare me.” His lips curled into a slight smile, but there was no warmth in it. “I’m not a coward,” he replied, his tone dark and dangerous. “I’m here to protect the world.” Marley scoffed, her eyes blazing with defiance. “Protect the world? You mean the fae realm. By killing humans..how the fuck is that saving anything?” A deep, resonant laugh echoed through the small room, the sound so rich and dark it seemed to reverberate through Marley’s bones.

Ghost looked down at her, amusement glinting in his midnight-blue eyes. “Well, Marley,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “you’ve killed many fae yourself. Unfortunately, some humans as well.” Marley’s face dropped, a flicker of guilt crossing her features before she could mask it. “I had no choice,” she snapped, her voice defensive. “I had to protect my people.” Ghost tilted his head slightly, his gaze piercing as it locked onto hers. “Which people?” he asked, his tone dripping with mockery. “Because you reek of mixed blood, little halfling.” The word struck Marley like a blow, and she instinctively stepped back, her muscles tensing as she prepared for a fight. She refused to let his words shake her resolve. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded, her voice edged with desperation. “Answer me, now.” Ghost’s smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating expression as he took a deliberate step forward. “I kill both humans and fae to balance the power between our worlds,” he said, his voice deadly serious. “My orders come from the Barbarian King.” Marley gasped, the name sending a shockwave through her. She had heard the legends, the whispers of an ancient and ruthless ruler who had once united the fae under a banner of blood and conquest, but those were just stories, tales told to scare children.

“He’s not real,” she protested, her voice trembling slightly. “It’s a myth. You’re lying.” Ghost eyes narrowed, his gaze never leaving hers. “Oh, he’s real,” he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of truth. “he’s very much alive. The balance between our worlds is crumbling, and he intends to restore it no matter the cost.” Marley’s mind raced, struggling to process what she was hearing. If the Barbarian King was real, then everything she thought she knew was a lie. If Ghost followed the Barbarian King's orders, this would be far bigger than a simple war between fae and humans. Even as fear gripped her heart, Marley refused to back down. “You’re just a pawn,” she hissed, her eyes blazing with defiance. “You think you’re protecting the world but just doing his dirty work.” Ghost’s expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker of something, regret, perhaps? In his eyes. “What about you, Marley?” he countered, his voice a low growl. “Are you any different?” Marley’s breath caught in her throat, the truth of his words cutting deep. She had killed, she had fought, she had done whatever it took to protect those she loved. Now, standing face-to-face with the man who was supposed to be her enemy, she couldn’t help but wonder: Was she so different from him? Marley’s heart pounded in her chest as she processed Ghost’s words, but she refused to let him have the last say. Her gaze hardened, and she squared her shoulders, refusing to back down. “You think I’m the same as you?” Marley hissed, her voice trembling with emotion but strong in conviction. “I’ve saved both fae and humans because of my father’s prophecy. He always knew what was coming, and he was always right. That’s why he was murdered.”

His eyes flickered, a brief flash of surprise crossing his stoic face. “Your father’s prophecy?” he repeated, his voice softer, almost curious. But Marley wasn’t fooled. She saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes and knew he understood exactly what she was talking about. “Yes,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “My father saw the truth before anyone else did. He knew that the fae and human realms were on a collision course and that we would all be destroyed if we didn’t find a way to coexist. He tried to bring peace, forge alliances, and save us all. Someone didn’t want that. Someone wanted to keep the war going, to maintain the balance of power through bloodshed.” Ghost’s gaze darkened, but he remained silent, letting her words hang in the air between them. “Then he was murdered,” Marley continued, her voice barely above a whisper now. “Murdered by you.”

The words felt like a physical blow, and for a moment, the two of them stood in silence. Ghost's expression remained unreadable, but there was tension in his posture and flicker in his eyes. "Your father's death was necessary," he said coldly. "He was a threat to the balance." Marley's anger rose. "Necessary?" she spat. "He was trying to save us all, and you killed him for your so-called king?" Ghost moved closer, dominating the small space. "Your father's vision was dangerous," he stated firmly. "His death served as a warning." Marley refused to back down. "He was my father, and you took him from me. His prophecy will come true." Something flickered in Ghost's eyes before disappearing behind his assassin persona. "I do what I must," he said sharply. "Don't think I won't hesitate to kill you if you stand in my way." Marley tightened her grip on her daggers. "I won't back down," she declared. "My father's prophecy will come true, and I'll make sure of it."

“Go back to your people,” Ghost said, his voice softer now, still carrying the cold edge of authority. The unexpected gentleness in his tone surprised Marley, but she didn’t let it show. “I will not kill anyone today. Leave this fight to those who understand it. I do not wish to kill you, but I will if you force my hand, your people will suffer too.” Marley’s heart twisted at his words, but she shook her head, her resolve unwavering. “I’m not leaving,” she said, her voice steady. “Not until I fulfill my father’s dying wish.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “You think you understand the balance of power, Ghost, but you don’t. The Barbarian King, your king, came into his power by taking it and killing his brother through a sickness he spread. That’s how he claimed the throne. The prophecy my father spoke of… it’s more than just words. If you don’t believe me, go to the town of Mansow. The prophecy says the people there will bow to you on the Night of Dark Moon. They know you’re destined to change the course of bloodshed.” Ghost’s expression didn’t change, but Marley could see the slight narrowing of his eyes, the way his hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. He was listening, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Marley stepped closer; her gaze locked onto his. “I’ll sit and wait right here for you,” she said, her voice firm and resolute. “Lock me in if you have to. If the prophecy is wrong, we’ll fight to the death. If it’s right… we work together and bring peace to everyone.” She extended her hand, her eyes never leaving his. “Do we have a deal?” The air between them grew thick with tension, the weight of their pasts pressing down on them both. Marley could feel her heart racing, but she held her ground, refusing to let him see any sign of weakness. Ghost studied her for what felt like an eternity, his dark eyes searching hers for any hint of deceit. Finally, after a long, silent moment, he took a step back, his expression unreadable. “So be it,” he said, his voice cold and final. Instead of turning away, he reached out and clasped her hand, his grip firm and unyielding.

Marley didn't flinch as his touch sent a jolt through her. It was a dangerous gamble, their only chance. He stepped back and warned, "I'll return." Marley interrupted confidently, "I won't be wrong." Ghost disappeared into the shadows of the barn without a word. Marley watched, feeling the tension in her chest unwind. She had trusted in her father's prophecy, in the vision that had guided her for years. But as she stood alone in the dim light, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed between them. If the prophecy were true, Ghost would become a dangerous ally.