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Chapter 6 - Chapter 2: The Rumbling

His clothes were jet black, weaved from thick leather and strong fabric that covered him from head to toe.

He stood right before the group of dead, gazing down at them. His eyes shifted past the corpses, falling upon that which seemed to belong to a female.

His vision swayed as he clenched his jaw, hands balling into fists as his brows furrowed.

"Who's responsible for this," his voice was low, even—yet exuded a force that brought them all to their knees, begging for mercy.

"Darion, please, we know not how such a thing could happen! We beg of you, spare our li-" his sentence was cut short, a sharp wave of crimson light slashing through his neck, decapitating him.

Blood gushed out from the open wound, his body convulsing as it fell against the ground, into a pool of his own blood.

The crowd remained kneeling on the floor, barely moving. Some threw nervous glances at the beheaded vampire, their breaths withheld.

"I won't tolerate any excuses. Now tell me, who is responsible for this?"

No one dared to respond, silently praying for a miracle to happen.

"Answer me, you fools!" He swung his hand out, a single line of red aura escaping his swing, rushing towards the fearful folks.

Loud screams filled the atmosphere, multiple heads flying from their bodies right after.

"How dare you? Even if you wretches decided to kill each other, that would've been fine. But you all knew there was one person I strictly ordered you all not to kill, yet look what you people have done!"

'He... He's not done?'

'Oh no... Don't tell me...'

Countless thoughts plagued the minds of the crowd, their faces covered in sweat.

"You know the rules; whenever someone disobeys an order, a hefty price must be paid."

'This can't be happening!'

'Why?! Why now?! Myself... M-my family. Is he really going to...?'

"Run for your lives, you damned ingrates!" He swung his arm in the air, unleashing a wave of blood aura that illuminated the skies.

Everyone in town could see the glow, terror spreading all across.

T-that flash of light... C-could it be...?"

"No... This can't be happening..! Why?! Who was crazy enough to provoke the wrath of the Abyssal Gang?!"

"May their generation suffer for all eternity! Ahh! I'm finished!"

Terror spread across the citizens of Fluxton, the unclean streets saturated with the clamor of vampires scurrying about, helplessly searching for safety from what was to come.

They rushed towards their poor quality enclosures, jumping past rickety wagons and discarded waste. Trampling upon one another, they pushed against all forms of delay to achieve a fleeting sense of sanctuary.

In a somewhat decent enclosure at some place in Fluxton, a fairly old man remained seated on a rocking chair, his eyes seemingly fixated upwards, gazing at the sky, even after the crimson light had vanished.

He cursed under his breath, shaking his head in cold sweat.

"Those Abyssal Gang monsters. When will they get tired of this? How many more lives must they take before they're satisfied?"

The man pressed his feet against the floor, halting the chair in its pendulum movements. His jaws clenched, emotions swaying as he gathered his resolve.

Yet, the next moment, he reluctantly slouched back onto the chair.

"If only I had the power to face Raphael and his brothers. I'm supposed to be the mayor of this town, yet all I can do is watch as those hooligans burn my town to the ground," he spat, forcing himself to look away.

... Back at the carpentry shop, everyone there had seen the flash of crimson light illuminating the skies. Right after, a man with long, unkept dark hair rushed into the workstation, his face drenched in sweat as he drew hoarse breaths. His eyes remained agape, consumed by the insidious clutches of terror.

He wore a long flowing dark garment that remained quite neat, sharply contrasting the degenerate state of his tiresome employees.

"The Rumbling! The Rumbling has begun. Everyone, run away! I repeat, run away if you wish to live!" He drew in a deep breath, unleashing his panic in one fell swoop.

Pandemonium followed right after. The workers swiftly retreated from their tasks, rushing towards the exits in an unorderly manner.

Kennedy's expression turned grim after hearing the news. His body grew still, a sinking feeling encamping within his soul as his vision lingered towards his son.

'No... This can't be happening...'

Ezeikel turned to his father, his eyes reflecting the horror the masses collectively shared.

"The... Rumbling?"

Kennedy grabbed Ezeikel by the hand the next moment, running towards the exit.

"We need to get to safety, before whoever started this Rumbling gets too close!" He warned, not turning back for even a moment.

'The Rumbling? Why's that happening? Who offended the Abyssal Gang?' Ezeikel thought to himself, his heart rate speeding up. 'Those devils, killing innocent lives like it's some sort of sport,'

The anger brewing within him escalated, veins materializing on his forehead as his gaze narrowed.

This was the first time that the Rumbling was taking place in twenty years. After what transpired the last time, everyone hoped, believed, that another one wouldn't happen again. Yet now, all their hopes were unceremoniously dashed.

Darion remained standing amongst a group of dead; one group shrivelled up by an unknown force, the other beheaded by his blood magic. A couple minutes crept by after his callous announcement, a sadistic grin forming on his lips.

Crimson eyes scanned the tenebrous terrain, ears and nostrils searching for nearby prey.

He swiftly traversed the degenerate environment, arriving at a rickety enclosure. He swung his hand forward, hardened fists crushing the door to bits.

Soot-contaminated air clouded around him, the poor-quality door crumbling along with the blow. His leather boots crushed the decomposing wood, luminescent eyes searching the compact space for unfortunate targets.

It didn't take long untill he found a man hiding in a small room with his wife and two children. They clung tightly to each other, bodies trembling, shaky lips silently praying for the devilish fiend to spare their lives.

Those lives, however, flashed before their eyes as the door of the room was punched open, bursting into flaking pieces. Darion casually stepped into the space, his gaze falling upon the frightened family.

"P-please! I beg of you! Spare us! We'll do whatever you want, give you whatever you want! Look at my daughter here; she's quite the beauty. Please, have her, and spare the rest of us!"

The daughter in question hugged her mother tightly, her eyes squinted shut. Nervous sweat oozed from her body. She dared not speak out in her current situation for fear of what might become of her.

But then again, chances are her that faith was already sealed, regardless of whatever bargain her cowardly father wished to strike with the devil.

Not saying a word, Darion swung his hand forward, releasing a blood swipe.

Right after, the man pushed his wife forward, the crimson light slicing through her chest, drawing out copious amounts of blood. Her vision wavered, a shocked expression plastered onto her face as she fell against the floor, a sickening pool of blood forming underneath her corpse.

"Father!" His daughter screamed at the top of her lungs, raising her hands in the air.

"Don't you dare raise your hand against me!" Her father caught her arm mid-swing, his firm grip threatening to crush her bones within seconds.

However, they never did.

His head flew up from his body, a wave of red liquid gushing from the decapitation as the crimson light sliced through his neck.

The frightened girl screamed, scattering to her feet while gripping her brother's hands tightly.

The world around her continued to spin, a dreadful feeling taking root within the depths of her soul.

She drew ragged breaths, her gaze shifting between Darion and the exit.

'If I can escape, then maybe, just maybe...'

The world went black, her head abruptly severed from her body. Within her last moments, she saw Darion swung his arm. Her body remained frozen, so many thoughts flying in her mind, yet none she could will herself to execute.

Her brother fell back to his knees, gripping them tightly as he curled into a tight ball.

His life concluded a few moments later, his body divided from the base of his abdomen.

"Four down, ninety-six left to go," Darion departed from the residence, immediately searching for his next targets.

A mass cleansing soon followed, numerous families ostricized from the living world. The numbers kept escalating, gradually arriving at his goal.

"All these fools, choosing to hide within their enclosures. Do they think I'd simply move past them without turning to search? Then again, I'm getting tired of this easily killing. I want to slay some of those who were actually smart enough to run away."

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