The noise of raindrops descending against wooden rooftops spread across the degenerate town of Fluxton, its streets devoid of people. In one of said enclosures, a young man sat on the cold floor, his hands shivering as he struggled to bear the jarring cold. With each breath he took, his teeth chatterd, brows furrowing as he stared at the sparce meal before him.
His eyes lingered until they fell on his father. The latter's expression was as pitiful as he'd expected. Kennedy's greyish-black hair cascaded down his head like the vines of a withering plant, its texture coarse and suffused with oil. His eyes remained dull, their depths teeming with a vast mixture of gripping emotions.
Both remained within the prickling chill, the sounds of their meals vanishing filling the shadowy space. Several hours waved past after their quarrel, their lives resuming with pragmatic monotony. Work, eat, sleep, and repeat. Their actions replayed consistently without a moment of pause. Well, what else would one expect? To pause within such a dreadful circumstance would mean succumbing to the mortality that plagued the most unfortunate of vampires.
Death had always been a scary thing for the nightwalkers. Everyone wanted to live, no matter how detrimental the lives they lived were. That was why people, like the citizens of Fluxton, always worked their hardest to remain sentient. Paying taxes to the Darkhavens and to their local gangs, they'd do anything just to live to see another day.
'Ezeikel, my son, I'm sorry. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me. If not for me, then for your mother, I beg of you,' Ezeikel remembered the words his father spoke to him that night, his head bowed low to the ground. His tears seemed endless, his loud wailing prickling his heart like a heavy jolt of electricity.
That night, Ezeikel's soul was brimming with malice. His eyes narrowed as they stared up at the tenebrous sky. His teeth clenched as his gaze fell upon his grieving father, their depths flickering with a sinister glow as he relived those harrowing memories over and over again. It felt everlasting—the pained words of his mother, the bloodshed, and worst of all, the manical look on that bastard's face. It was like faith was playing a cruel joke on him, one that wouldn't end till his being was utterly shattered.
They remained outside for a while, both oblivious to the callous passage of time. Eventually, people began to emerge from their enclosures, and soon enough, another round of hustle for survival began within the town.
Neither said a word to each other as they went about getting ready for labour. Despite the tension between them, the synergy they shared for carpentry remained. It then came time for their shift to came to a close, father and son exiting the carpentry shop after collecting their payment from their boss.
It was like this till this very moment. Though the youngster could maintain his disdain for his father, somewhere in his heart, he didn't want to. Sure, his father's cowardice had lead to his mother being killed. Nevertheless, what would have been the alternative if that wasn't the case? If Kennedy had sacrificed himself instead, he would still spend the rest of his life living with only one parent. Whether or not Kennedy interfered, the outcome would have still been the same.
He heaved out a deep sigh, his expression dull as he returned to face his meal. Then, he opened his mouth, his voice crackling after remaining silent for a while.
"I think I've figured out how to improve my powers," he started off, drawing Kennedy's attention. The latter's eyes were filled with surprise as he looked at Ezeikel, his lips parting to speak, only to be withheld at the last moment. Guilt lingered on his face, eyes eagerly waiting for Ezeikel to continue his explanation.
"That time, after I saved your life and fought off that creature, I fell unconscious. I found myself in that strange space again. I heard that voice speak out to me, and I asked it how I can improve my powers," Ezeikel took a pause, as if calculating what he should and should not say. "What it told me… was quite concerning."
...…..
Darkness surrounded Ezeikel like an ominous shroud, his crimson eyes incapable of gazing beyond the tinted veil. He felt his body descend through a seemingly perpetual void, the lack of air confirming his knawing thoughts. Once again, he found himself somewhere within his consciousness.
"You wish to know what more your powers are capable of?" The voice asked, its tone filled with curiosity. A couple seconds passed before it continued, the tone of the voice taking a sudden dark turn. "Let me assure you, the path to increasing your power is not a righteous one. Such an endeavor is froth with nothing but death. Are you sure you are up to the task?"
Ezeikel's expression hardened as he listened intently to the words of the mysterious voice, making sure he didn't miss a single word of what was being said. His response was devoid of hesitation as he said:
"Yes."
A couple more seconds passed before the voice replied:
"...In that case, I shall tell you what you desire. The key to increasing your power… lies in the death of those belonging to the vampiric race. You must slay vampires in order to grow your power. There is simply no other way to grow stronger. Even when your powers first awakened, you had simply overused what little power you had left to heal your father and kill that creature. Granted, your overuse could've lead to severe consequences if not for my intervention, and luck was merely on your side when you encountered that dreadful creature."
'I must become… a vampire slayer?' Ezeikel asked himself, feeling something nauseating turn in himself as his thoughts began to spiral. '...I don't really see myself as a killer. Heck, the worst thing I've ever killed was one of those damned shadow-bound creatures that tried attacking me. And even then, the best was already heavily injured and close to death.
'To actually kill living, breathing, healthy creatures, fellow vampires no less… I'm not too sure about that. I want this power, u really do, but is that really a line I'm willing to cross. Am I willing to sell my humanity I'm exchange for power.
'Even those people like Darion and the Abyssal Gang. Sure, I hate them, I hate them a lot. But really, am I actually going to go as far as to kill them?'
"You seem hesitant, boy," the voice suddenly said, breaking him away from his train of thoughts. Ezeikel's head snapped up, his eyes wide in surprise as he gazed at the dense darkness circling all around him. At least, he thought it was circling. He couldn't really tell at this point.
"Is that a price you are willing to pay for power? Are you willing to slaughter the vampires in exchange for your abilities?"
Ezeikel didn't reply immediately. This was really something he had to consider. By agreeing with the voice's request, he would essentially be selling himself into the neverending cycle of kill or be killed, the very same one that stole his mother away from him. His desire for vengeance was clouded by an unclear veil of indecision. He remembered all the times when he spent with his mother, the times when they were all a happy family, living under their room while struggling everyday to survive.
Back then, Ezeikel didn't care about power. He didn't care about having the ability to enforce his will on others. All he cared about was the wellbeing of his family, for them to survive as long as they could, for as long as there was a world for them to live in.
He didn't even care about the Abyssal Gang at the time. Back then, he merely saw them as distant terrors that ruled over their poor town. It wasn't till that dreadful night that Darion stole his mother's life that his view on life changed.
He no longer saw the dangers of the world as being so distant. Ever since then, danger always seemed to look just around the corner. He felt terribly exposed, and feared each day that passed, asking himself one particular question more often than normal.
When will my time finally come?
Death was a concept vampires had to accept, whether they wanted to or not. Only a fool would try to deceive himself into believing in immortality. Even the Emperor could be killed, so a town rat had him had no chance of living a long life.
Not unless he had the means to fight back, of course.
The means to fight back against the Abyssal Gang, to fought back against the dreadful throes of poverty and stagnation, and of so required, to fight back against the Darkhavens and their malevolent King.
To live for the family he desired, even if that family had been torn apart, Ezeikel would anything, even if it meant becoming a monster, himself.
"I'll do it. Whatever it takes, I'll pay them all back for everything they've done to me."