Categories > Movies > Underworld > Running

Chapter 2

by Anthestria 2 reviews


Category: Underworld - Rating: R - Genres: Angst, Drama - Characters: Michael, Selene - Warnings: [!!!] - Published: 2006-02-16 - Updated: 2006-02-17 - 1112 words

Chapter Two: Falling Sensation

"One, two..." Selene gasped softly as she finally squeezed through. The grate's bars were close together, but one bent slightly to the side. That must be how she got in, Selene figured when the team returned with no entrance available.

A voice crackled over the headsets and Samuel looked up to her through the grimy iron bars. "Michael's just arrived; he'll be down with the equipment team." He watched her nod gently and moved away when she knelt down to the child on the floor. He gestured those that stood with him to stand back a bit. This moment came three years in the making.

Selene's hands trembled for the first time in a long while. She lowered to her knees, resting a second before reaching out to the tiny form on the ground. Her hands hovered over the child's back for a moment, uncertain of what to do at first. Tears trickled slowly down her ivory cheeks and she flexed her hands in and out of fists to calm herself.

The memory of holding her daughter came back to her.

The infant just finished feeding and curled against her chest, her tiny face tucked under Selene's chin. The warm lull of the babe's heartbeat soothed her, almost putting her back to sleep. Despite her immortal strength, the birthing process sapped Selene of most of her strength; she spent the last five days in bed, with Michael hovering over her constantly and her baby always in her arms.

Steeling herself, Selene gently placed her hands flat on the child's back. The dam burst and she sobbed openly as she felt the gentle rise and fall from breathing. Carefully, Selene turned the child over, wiping away the dirt and mud from the tiny face. She found herself looking into a perfect blend of her and Michael's features, right down to the small mole on her mate's neck.

The beauty of their reunion was almost brought up short as Selene began to check the girl for injury. Several large cuts covered the girl's chest, along with a slash mark on her arm and an entire fingernail missing. Her tiny face seemed sunken in, black underneath her eyes, indicating lack of sleep and nutrition. As Selene lifted her away from the grate, she felt a heated anger rise in her: the child could not have weighed more than twenty pounds. If they were lucky.

Selene sat down a few feet from the soon to be opened grate, cradling her child possessively. The child remained sleeping, almost unconscious. Selene prayed it wasn't a concussion or head trauma; nothing that could hurt this tiny child any further.

As if on cue, the child shifted in her arms, curling into her, the tiny face pressed into Selene's neck. Selene watched her tears fall onto her child's face, wiping them away along with the sewer scum. She placed a gentle kiss on the child's forehead and, for the first time since the abduction, allowed herself to say her precious daughter's name.


By the time the scaffold was erected and the first bolts of the seemingly ancient grate came off in molten streams, Michael's patience was shot. It was enough to have to wait back at the safe house, just in case anything adverse happened. He yielded to Selene's every command; she knew more than he did about rescue operations and military actions than he ever would.

But to get the call, the one he prayed he would get every time she went out with the team...he floored it to the site, pushing the limits of the car in order to reach them.

Despite outward appearances, Michael was affected by their daughter's disappearance more than most people know. He suffered through watching his fiance, Sarah, die as he sat by her, helpless. To have his daughter, he own flesh and blood, snatched away right under his nose was more painful than anything. But he merely kept quiet this time around, curling up under his own skin, comforting Selene when she allowed herself to mourn, to weep.

A hard thud re-sounded over the voices of the crew. Last bolts broke off and they slowly pulled the grate away, lowering it to the ground below. Once it was out of his way, Michael quickly scaled the small scaffold and entered the duct.

He knelt down next to Selene who's hair fell across her face as she dropped soft kisses onto Nyssa's head. Looking up, she smiled softly, tears rolling down her cheeks. It wasn't really a moment for words; too much had been said and left unsaid for the duration of their search for anything to matter now.

Michael helped her to stand, one hand on Selene's side, the other gently touching his daughter's face. Together, as a family, they made their way towards the exit.

Despite what Marcus believed, a few vampires did escape the fire at the Old World coven house. Erika was one of them. She left with Amelia's convoy to return to the New World to break the news of their elder's demise. Viktor believed it would be better for them to be told face to face, not through the technologies of the 20th century.

It was when they landed that they received the news: Ordoghaz had been destroyed. Erika felt little remorse for the loss of the ancient house, once the stronghold of Viktor's human reign. She was a servant there, being less than two centuries old herself. In New York, she was part of the hierarchy. She provided them with inside information on Kraven's network and alliance with the Lycans, the supposedly dead Lucian being his partener in crime. They praised her bravery for risking her immortal life to get such information for them.

Now she had her own quarters, with her own servant. No longer did she walk under Selene's shadow.

"My lady?" Erika turned on her vanity stool, just finishing up her make-up for this evening's ball. Her black and ivory gown rustled slightly, glimmering in the dim lights of the house.

"Yes, Talia?"

"Tracer One just called. They found the hybrid child."

"Keep me posted. I want to talk to him when he calls again." The servant girl, Talia, nodded and quickly left the room.

Erika turned back to her mirror, lightly coating hairspray over her blonde locks. She was no expert of war and battle; Selene was enough of that for every woman in the coven. But she did know a thing or two about a good bargan. And the hybrid child, the one named Nyssa, was the greatest barganing tool she could ever hope for.
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