The night was thick with the taste of metal and smoke, a heavy blanket that seemed to smother the stars. Inside the car, the group was spent from the miles behind them, weariness clinging to their bones.
Alucard leaned back in his seat, his voice low and heavy. "I'm so tired, man… we need to rest a little."
Isabel let out a small, weary laugh. "Yeah… I can barely keep my eyes open."
Lesley's voice was quiet, her eyes already drooping. "Same here…"
Markus tapped at the cracked screen of his phone, squinting at the map. "There's a nearby hotel. 'The Ane & Spe at Parkside'—we should go there."
Simon glanced over, his voice even. "Where is it?"
Markus pointed at the glowing lines. "We're at 500 R Street Garage, close to the 5th and R Street bus stop. The hotel's only 550 meters away. We're driving at 34 kilometers an hour—it's okay. No need to rush."
Simon gave a small nod. "Yeah… you're right."
Jessica's voice was soft, almost a sigh. "Wow… I can't believe we came all the way from Lesley's house to here, and all on bicycles… damn, that was exhausting."
Lesley managed a wry smile. "Yeah, it is… my legs are killing me."
Simon looked over at Markus, a flicker of concern. "Aren't you tired too?"
Markus shrugged. "I'm tired… but it's fine. Don't worry about me."
Simon hesitated, then looked at Isabel. "Hey, Isabel…"
She turned, brow raised. "What?"
Simon's voice was low. "I'm sorry… for how I treated you earlier."
Isabel crossed her arms, unimpressed. "You should be."
Jessica leaned forward, her voice gentle. "Hey! He's apologizing."
Isabel sniffed. "So? What do you want me to do?"
Jessica sighed. "At least thank him!"
Isabel shook her head. "Nah… I don't think so."
Simon drove in silence, his hands steady on the wheel. Markus offered quiet directions, his voice calm. The girls in the back seat had already surrendered to sleep, their breathing soft and even. Alucard, too, had drifted off in the trunk bed, half-shielded by the tattered blanket.
Sixteen minutes later, Simon stopped the car outside a battered supermarket. The night air was cold, and the sky above was dark, lit only by the glimmer of broken street lamps.
Simon stepped out, taking the sword and battered shield with him. He gave the sleeping group a last, lingering look—then disappeared into the shadows of the store.
Inside, the supermarket was a graveyard of broken glass and flickering lights. Blood streaked the floor in a winding line, a dark path that pulled him deeper into the aisles.
The first body lay crumpled at the end of the blood trail—armless, one leg gone, eyes popped out like crushed grapes. The mouth was open in a frozen scream, the jaw twisted and broken.
Simon's breath came slow and steady, his heart beating a cold rhythm in his chest. He looked behind him—two more bodies. One headless, legless, heart torn away. The other pinned to the wall like a trophy, hollow eyes staring into nothing.
Hate burned in his veins. "You'll pay," he thought, his grip on the sword tightening.
A chill prickled his spine. Something was watching.
He didn't turn. He didn't let the thing see. He moved slowly, gathering water bottles, energy drinks, canned food—normal things, in a place that had forgotten normal.
Back at the car, he woke Alucard with a quiet shake. "Here's everything I got."
Alucard blinked sleep from his eyes. "Okay, that's great… can we go now?"
Simon's voice dropped to a low whisper. "Not yet. Something's watching us. Stay quiet. Tell Markus—don't wake the girls."
Alucard's eyes widened. "Are you sure you want to deal with it? What if there's more? My gun's useless… and Markus's revolver would only draw them in."
Simon's voice was steel. "Don't worry. If you see anything—anything—leave me behind."
Alucard swallowed. "Leave you behind? Don't be a hero, Simon… we've seen enough. You're exhausted—let's just go."
Simon gave him a look that was final and absolute. "It's not heroics—it's survival. Drive away if you have to. I'll catch up."
Alucard's lips parted to protest, but the words died. He just nodded.
Simon stepped back into the store, every sense alive. He acted casual, scanning the dusty shelves, but his focus was on the creature behind the wall—watching.
The shattered mirror caught his eye, a tall black figure standing in the doorway, half-shadowed. For a breath, fear froze him.
"Stay calm… play it off…" He grabbed a bag of chips and crunched them slowly, a mockery of ease.
The black figure took a step. Another. It stopped just out of reach. Simon's hand moved to the sword in his pocket, finger resting on the trigger button.
It stepped closer.
He lunged, blade flashing. But the figure vanished.
Simon turned, blade raised. A shelf of cans clattered to the ground—empty air. Confusion flared. "Am I… seeing things? I'm so tired…" He shook his head. "Enough for today."
He turned—just in time to see a crawling demon burst from the window, two massive demons close behind.
Simon's shield slammed up, his body braced. He shoved a shelf into the doorway, barricading the monsters outside. But the first demon vanished—teleporting behind him.
Simon turned, too late. The demon's tail lashed forward, a spear of bone.
Time slowed.
Something slammed into Simon, throwing him to the ground. The tail shot past his chest, burying itself in the shelf. Simon gasped, looking for whoever had saved him—but saw only empty air.
The demon snarled, yanking at the stuck tail. Simon didn't hesitate—he rammed the sword into its head, splitting it in two.
The two massive demons roared, smashing the shelf aside. Shards of glass cut into Simon's leg, hot pain flaring.
One of the demons lunged, claws at his throat. Simon drove the blade into its heart, feeling the sickening crunch as it died.
The last demon loomed above him, red smoke coiling from its back. Five thin arms lashed out, tearing shelves to splinters.
Simon's voice was a ragged scream. "YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"
He rammed the shield forward, smashing into the demon's arms. The impact cracked the shield, sending a shockwave that rattled the store's walls and threw the demon back.
Simon rose, fury burning through his exhaustion. He leapt, blade in hand, and drove it into the demon's face, slicing it clean.
Alucard's voice cut through the roar. "SIMON! GET IN THE VEHICLE—NOW!"
Simon didn't hesitate. He threw himself into the back seat, sword clattering beside him. Blood streaked his leg, but his hands were already working at the laser gun.
Four flying demons screamed down from the sky. Simon's fingers found a small, red battery—he slammed it into the gun's core. It roared to life, the barrel glowing with savage red light.
The gun fired, cutting the flying demons from the sky. Crawling things burst from the alleys, but he cut them down, one by one.
The last demon fell, silence flooding in its wake.
Alucard let out a long breath. "We made it… we made it."
Simon looked out the window, his voice calm and cold. "For now," he murmured. "But this isn't over."