Locate, kill, and repeat. The action was monotonous, chilling, yet necessary. Necessary to achieve his goals of liberation. Necessary to murder the bastard that killed his mother. That night, eight souls were erased by his will. And eight embers were added to the furnace of his potential
.....
Ezeikel's steps were heavy as he made his way back to the enclosure. Images of frightened street beggars invaded his thoughts, their screams scrapping his ears with jagged claws.
A grating howl filled the lightless skies, shattering his reverie. Soon enough, vampires would emerge to continue the routine hustle.
Ezeikel went to bed right after returning, feigning nonchalance as his father's dark gaze fixated upon him.
"I hope you are satisfied with what you did," Kennedy's sneered, but Ezeikel remained quiet.
It wasn't long till the old man was needed at the carpentry shop. However, Ezeikel didn't follow him this time around. His path was already clear. Working as an underpaid carpenter did nothing to further his goal.
Everything went by as expected, and eventually, the citizens of Fluxton returned to slumber once again. It was time to hunt.
With each life he harvested, he felt the flame of his power grow more and more. However, as time went on, every wretched death slowly ate away at something within, gradually creating a gaping void.
'Nine kills. Not bad.'
He recounted the various low-lives he encountered. Some were young men who had lost what little they had, others were aged women and little children. Not once did he find a young, healthy woman amongst them. Such treasures were truly scarce.
Some were brave enough to fight back, while others simply turned tails, hoping to flee. Yet none were capable of evading or subduing the vampire slayer. He was stronger, faster, and far more desperate. His yearning for power engulfed whatever slipping desire they held for life.
His powers were terrible. They pierced flesh and severed bone, painting the streets crimson. Their screams fell on deaf ears, the townsfolk far too engrossed in the temporary sanctuary of slumber. With fear-striken eyes, they gazed upon death itself as it rushed upon them, reaping their lives one by one.
Empty crates, misshapen rocks, and ill-executed punches, the truly desperate did whatever they could to fight back, but it was all useless. Ezeikel easily dodged whatever object or attack they threw at him, his icy gaze focused on them. They tried running randomly across the streets, hoping their erratic movements would elicit confusion. But still, the vampire slayer remained calm, calculated. His steps were delegated with planned precion, and seconds later, the lightless skies rang with the noise of pained screams.
He stood in the midst of several corpses, a rush of energy invading his soul, strengthening the core within. That night, he returned to the enclosure once again. And that night, he ignored his father's burning gaze and piercing questions.
...….
The citizens of Fluxton later emerged from their enclosures to resume work once more. They moved with grim resolve, working earnestly to make ends meet. Their decrepit chatter carried across the town like the stench of fresh carcass, and today, most couldn't stop talking about one particular thing.
"Hey, did you notice they're far too many dead bodies around than usual?" One asked. His tone was curious, yet held and underlying sense of fear.
"Yeah, we all did. What's happening around here? This is just like what happened before Darion announced the Rumbling," another replied.
"Still, this is different. Remember, the corpses back then looked like they were dried to the bone, and I'm talking about beyond what starvation can do," a third individual chimed in.
"Whatever the case may be, I just hope the Abyssal Gang doesn't get upset and start another Rumbling," a forth interjected.
As they resumed their activities, no one seemed to pay much attention to the dead littering their town. Most simply avoided the bodies where they laid, sparing them dirty glances. It wasn't long till a pack of Driuds emerged, feasting on the dead to satiate their hunger.
These individuals weren't part of their families. They were strangers, thrown to the streets thanks to their own misfortune. Death was bound to claim them sooner or later. Still, the way many perished, it all felt so sudden, so unexpected. Like a deranged killer was actively seeking them out and slaying them. Many began to wonder, what would happen if the streets were wiped clean, would this lunatic target then next?
Most decided to lump it all together as irrational fear. After all, they may have all simply died due to their very own circumstances. Nevertheless, that may not have truly been the case. No one bothered to closely inspect how these vampires died, the stench alone was far too strong of a deterrent.
As Kennedy arrived at the carpentry shop, he was greeted by the familiar scene of vampires sawing, polishing, and chipping wood, constructing various wooden fixtures and furniture. Saw dust wafted through the air and into his nostrils as he inhaled, his eyes flickering with excitement for another working session ahead.
"Hey, Kennedy. You're coming alone today? What about your boy?" One of the workers asked, his gaze shifting from his work for a brief moment.
Kennedy sighed and lowered his head. His son's words rang in his ears as he closed his eyes, those stern, emotionless pupils glaring down at him.
"I'm afraid he won't be working here anymore," Kennedy eventually replied, straighting himself. "We… had a a disagreement. He's decided to take his own path moving forward." Hearing what he said, the others exchanged strange glances, but nobody wanted to probe further with more questions.
Work continued as usual, and without Ezeikel working closely behind him, Kennedy had to perform all the tasks by himself. Fortunately, this also meant that he would be taking all the salary meant for the two of them, even if it meant working a lot more than he was already used to.
The base of the Abyssal Gang…
Raphael paced back and forth within his chamber, the noise of wooden sandals echoing across the tenebrous space. His brothers exchanged fearful glances, waiting patiently for him to say something.
In the midst of his thoughts, his eyes drifted towards the window. His legs followed, and soon enough, his hands caressed the polished glass pane, crimson eyes staring down at the citizens below. His vision was exceptionally sharp, and it didn't take long for him to spot the dead littering his town with their vile presence.
"What is the meaning of this?" He asked, his tone filled with irritation as he clicked his tongue. "Why does it seem like people are now dying left and right? Did one of you disobey my direct order?"
His eyes scanned the two present in the room. Both men instantly shook their heads, sweat trickling down their face like the first signs of a dreadful storm.
Raphael sneered, his eyes returning back to the desperate town below. He could tell instantly that both were honest. Their heartbeats, their body language, it all reeked of frightened honesty.
Jay's eyes flickered for a brief moment, words dangling at the tip of his tongue. However, one look from Darion was enough to shut him up.
"I don't believe such a thing could just happen on its own. We must get to the bottom of this," Raphael eventually said, clenching his fists. "Once everyone returns to their homes, we'll patrol the streets, and hopefully, deal with who or whatever is responsible for this carnage."
The others nodded in quiet understanding, the weight of his words settling within them both.
...….
Hours came and went.
The citizens of Fluxton were done with another session of hustle, retiring to slumber to restore their energy. In the process, the streets were left deserted for the outcasts to scavenge.
Once again, the hunt was on.
Ezeikel emerged from his enclosure, crimson eyes staring through the darkness. His steps echoed in his ears as he walked across the decrepit streets, anticipation bubbling within. Slowly, the thrill of murder overshadowed the prickling guilt, hands trembling to reap another life.
He caught a wiff in the air, and with an eager grin, he followed he trail. One, two, three, each step held promise for another death, another stepping stone on his path to power. Euphoria was so close. It lurked just beyond the corner. He placed his hand on the building's edge, steps calm and purposeful as he emerged.
Indeed, five weak vampires laid squirming in the dirt, eyes filled with horror as they struggled to flee. However, the weight of Darion's gaze was enough to freeze their movements. Hunger was a wretched thing, but it did little to quench the fear they held for this man.
Catching sight of the Abyssal Gang, Ezeikel hissed.
'Crap! What are they doing here?'
It wasn't just Darion who was present. Standing behind him where two other figures. One belonging to a young man with short black hair and a deranged look, the other belonging to a man with a displeased expression.
Raphael bared his fangs, his hands quaking with blood magic as he whisked it forward. The attack was swift and vicious, trailing through the air in chilling seconds.
Ezeikel gulped, cold sweat trickling down his face and he barely managed to dodge the attack. His gaze lingered on the destruction caused by the blood swipe, big mistake.
He felt a hand grab him by the head, shoving his face into the rocks with brutal force. The sound of bones cracking laced the air. Ezeikel tasted iron.
"So you're the one who's been causing a mess in my town?" Raphael spat, his grip on Ezeikel's head tightening by the second. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't crush your skull this very instant."
Ezeikel's mind raced with thoughts. The pressure on his skull intensified, causing his vision to waver as blood clogged his throat.
And then, with every bit of desparation he could muster, he spoke, hands shaking by his sides.
"I… I can help you… L-let me join… you…"