Several hours came and went, yet no response.
Kennedy sulked as he left his son alone once more, heading to work to make a living. His thoughts constantly drifted to Ezekiel at home, but he willed himself to pay more attention to what was in front of him, as hard as that was.
What kept his going was the fact that gus son was still alive. His steady heartbeat gave him hope, and he returned every time hoping his son was already up and about.
It felt… weird, for someone of his age to be so concerned for his son. Usually, it was the youths who cared about the elders' health and well-being, not the other way around. Looking at his son's condition every time wasn't an easy thing, either. Fortunately, most of his external wounds has already healed. Though the young vampire hadn't eaten anything since loosing consciousness, the energy he had amassed within had helped him recover to this point. The nine vampires he had killed strengthened his core, allowing him to survive all the punishment he had endured from Raphael himself.
Perhaps what remained was the damage done within. After all, Kennedy hadn't witnessed firsthand the terrible lightning shock Ezekiel had injured from Raphael. Or the branding process that left his right chest scarred. The old man wasn't even observing Ezekiel after the latter encountered the Abyssal Gang. He had only gone out in search of his son after having a seriously bad premonition about him. Luckily, his nerves had been right, allowing him to arrive just in time to save Ezekiel from those street dwellers that were about to kill him.
Kennedy grounded his teeth as he remembered those vile scum. They were weak, helpless, yes, but weren't they still people? Were they really going to kill their fellow vampire simply because it was easy for them to do so?
"What am I even thinking? All of that, it might have simply been self-defense. After all, this idiot was planning on killing them when he still had the chance. After seeing him in such a vulnerable state, they saw a chance to get rid of a threat before it could take them out, instead," Kennedy contemplated, drinking from a wooden cup of bioluminescent blood. "If only you had chosen to lay low. You actually believed the Abyssal Gang wouldn't come after you after the mess you've made in this town? Well, I guess you'll just have to fix this mess yourself."
As Kennedy continued his words, somewhere within the depths of Ezeikel's consciousness, stillness remained.
The damage done to his internal organs were horrid. It would take a considerable amount of time for it all to heal, especially since a lot of his energy had already been put into healing his external lacerations and punctures. Bones were also broken, and required their own toll of power to be restored. Yet, within Ezeikel's consciousness, damage also lingered. Raphael's blood lightning had not only damaged both the external and internal, but the spiritual, as well. His core shuddered under the weight of cracks and sparce exposures, his soul swirling in an uncoordinated manner.
The voice remained silent, doing whatever it could ri help speed up the process.
...
Countless hours later…
Ezeikel's eyes slowly fluttered open, the acrid odour of rotting flesh and blood invading his nostrils with pragmatic force. His eyes watered as he took in the unbridled stench of decay, hands rushing sharply to block his nostrils. Seconds trickled by till he slowly adjusted to the vile oxygen, letting himself take in slow, shallow breaths as his eyes readjusted to his surroundings.
He took in the various objects and images plastered in the room all around him. Then, he traced a hand all across his body. He expected to feel some bumps or bouts of pain, but he felt nothing. The burns, the scars, the blood, all of it was gone. Well, all except the Abyssal Mark. That wretched thing clung to his flesh like the desparation of peasants, reminding him of his current place in the world.
"Figures. I'll still be left with this," he said begrudgingly, willing himself to stand right after.
Upon getting up to his feet, he stretched, feeling and hearing the sounds of bones crackling with waves of satisfaction. "I feel like I've been reborn. Man, this power is really something else," Ezeikel said to himself, smiling in amazement. "If I can keep on regenerating like this after taking a beating, I should be able to put up a good fight against Darion and his brothers when I get stronger. Yes, vengeance is close."
"Also, don't forget it's thanks to me that you're able to awaken so soon," the enigmatic voice interjected, its tone carrying a hint of annoyance and pride. "Remember, all I am doing is for the sake of you to fully realize what you're capable of. You can't assume your greatest self from beyond the grave, boy. You must become your best while you're still alive. That way, you can actually make that big dream of yours come true."
Ezeikel listened to the words of the voice with a scowl. After it was done explaining itself, he asked, voice sharp.
"What exactly do you mean by that? Helping me out when I needed it most? Me owing you for your intervention? It's all too confusing. Can't you explain it for me?" his questions came out fast, and it took a few minutes before the voice finally replied.
"The questions you ask, I cannot answer them as of now," the voice started off. "You are far too weak to understand the things I do. You must first grow stronger before you can start learning the truth. As it is believed, only the powerful can bear the weight of honesty."
'Only the powerful can bear the weight of honesty?' Ezeikel repeated in his mind, shaking his head. "Crap. How much stronger must I get before I can start getting answers? What, do you expect me to be as strong as a damned vampire soldier before you can tell me?" he stot back, gripping his fists. "It'll take me a long time to get there, especially since that Abyssal Gang is on my back now. I can't be making quick moves like I used to."
'That… is none of my concern. This is simply the way things are, Ezeikel. I cannot change them,' the voice responded, its tone sounding disappointed in itself.
Ezeikel bit his lips as he cursed, rolling his eyes in frustration.
His attention then returned to the space around him, and it was then he realized that he was alone. He contemplated what he would tell his father once he returned from work. Should he apologize for how he acted and spoke to him that night? Should he resume working with him at the carpentry shop? What about his matters with the Abyssal Gang?
'Damn, the gang. I almost forgot,' Ezeikel realized, sweat trickling down his forehead as he remembered the words of Raphael.
'Meet us at the base once you're well rested. We have a lot to discuss.'
The words were brief, sharp, and told an underlying tale of regret if taken lightly. Raphael was a dangerous man. He would lay waste time families if they disobeyed his will. His past epithet was The Red Death, after all, which explained the encompassing fact that his blood magic reaped death wherever it struck. Perhaps Ezeikel was extremely lucky to remain alive after that harrowing encounter, or maybe his death was simply postponed. No one could see the future, after all. At least, no one Ezeikel knew of, could.
Ezeikel felt his body still. He remembered what Raphael had asked him prior to waving the branding iron before his chest. His words dripped with malice as he ordered the young vampire to kill the very man who had looked after him since the moment he was born. His heart thundered in his ears as he reminisced how helpless he was as Raphael abused him like a rag doll. Blows, chokeholds, electrocution, and branding. The Leader Of The Abyssal Gang displayed the difference between a nobody like him, and those blessed by the Supreme Sovereign like them. They were worlds apart, and only if Ezeikel somehow managed to close the gap, would he be able to look the bastard defiantly in the eyes and live to tell the tale.
Till that time came, he would simply have to bow his head and behave like the obedient servant he needed to be. He couldn't afford to provoke them, not while he wasn't strong enough to counter their ire.
With wavering steps, he walked out from the enclosure, closing the creeping door behind him. His eyes narrowed as they gazed through the maze of darkness ahead, the base of the Abyssal Gang stretching further above every other structure within the town.
"For mother's sake, and father's, as well. I will take them down…eventually," Ezeikel spoke to himself, taking his first steps to the lair of the devils.