Ezekiel's eyes returned to his current prey, the guard's movements suffused with agony as his eyes darted across the grim space. He looked on as his fellow comrades glowered over him, snickering as they watched him desperately squirm for false reprieve. It was vile, treacherous. They were comrades. At least, the once were. But now, the tables had turned, and he was merely living flesh helplessly waiting to be butchered.
He remembered the look in that man's eyes when he fought for his position. They were deranged, sinister, hoping to survive and retain his sanctuary. He fought with utmost savagery, abusing his opponent like an old wooden doll. Len suffered morbidly that time, yet somehow, he prevailed. He laid the beast down in his own blood, snatching his position right under his corpse.
Now, the same thing was happening. He was the one being out down, while the persistent challenger walked towards him with calm, chilling steps.
He screamed, forcing his legs to move as he got up. Bones shuddered as he took daring steps forward, his one good arm geared back to deliver yet another blow. His eyes burned with primal fury as he moved, logicality burned away by its immolative heat.
One, two, and one more. Each step ached to his bones, but he didn't care.
'I've thrown it all away, every damned thing! My family, my past life, my love. I let it all burn to ash, all so I could live safely under the Abyssal Gang!' Len roared internally, blood spewing from his mouth as he continued. 'I can't die now! No way! It's impossible! Not after all the sacrifices I've made! I've compromised so much. Sold my soul to these devils. I can't die! Not now! Never!'
Len's fist shot out, a snapping sound following as his lower limb dislodged from the join, flying forward in a whirlwind of blood and bone shards.
Ezekiel caught the arm within his grasp, inspecting it for a couple moments before crushing it in two. He opened his palm, allowing the remains to fall to the ground in a mix of blood, flesh and crushed bone.
Looking at the stump where his arm was once whole, Len sneered, feeling his consciousness give out as he took an involuntary step back.
"What's wrong?" Ezekiel suddenly asked, taken a couple more steps forward. "Weren't you willing to do whatever it takes to kill me. That position of yours, you were willing to fight to the death, doing everything in your power to win. You punched me, kick me. You even took out a chunk of my neck. But now, look at you. Look who is the one knocking on death's door. Just like what a certain man told me…" his eyes glanced at Raphael for a few seconds. "One shouldn't be a coward simply because they're outmatched. If it's worth fighting for, then fight to the death to make it come true."
"Though that isn't exactly what I said, I'll accept it, nevertheless," Raphael chuckled from the side.
"This is your end, whether you like it or not. I will achieve my goal, and I will crush all those who stand before me!" Ezekiel roared at the top of his lungs, rushing upon Len immediately after.
His fist grabbed him by the throat, shoving him into the dirt with immense force. His skull caved in as it struck hard rock, eyes rolling back as he coughed out a massive wave of blood.
Letting go, the vampire's body remained still. Ezekiel's hearing couldn't even register a heartbeat.
Turning around, he faced Raphael, his eyes maintaining that burning gaze as he stepped forward. However, seconds later, the orange glow receded from his being, and he coughed out a heavy pool of blood. He fell to his knees, arms pressed hard against the dirt as he willed himself to remain conscious, but it was was of no use.
'Damn it. I pushed myself too far. And now, I can't even… can't even…' Ezekiel's head hit the ground with a light thud, eyes closing shut.
The guards exchanged strange glances, murmurs filling the now tenebrous space as they speculated what could've happened. Meanwhile, Raphael growled in excitement, quickly ordering some guards to take him inside.
"This boy has a lot to offer me, and I intend on making full use of it," Raphael said to himself, stepping back into the residence to check up on Ezekiel.
.....
The world was black.
Ezekiel couldn't hear anything—the sound of guards whispering, the slow rustle of leaves under the gentle breeze, or even the hissing sound of fists flying swiftly through the air.
He couldn't smell anything, either. It took him a while before he realized where he was, his expression unreadable as he gazed into the darkness.
'I won,' Ezekiel told himself, but deep down, he wasn't feeling too excited. Sure, he had proven himself to Raphael and the Abyssal Gang, but somewhere deep down, he couldn't put off a gnawing thought from disturbing him.
'Hey, what was that all about back there? You talked about taking away years of my life to grant me more power. Is that like some sort of equal exchange?' Ezekiel asked.
Seconds waved past, but he got no response. He sighed, shaking his head as he looked on once more.
'It is, indeed,' the voice eventually replied. 'You found yourself close to the gates of death, and it was the only way I could see to grant you the power to prevail,' it explained.
Ezekiel took in the words spoken, his frown deepening as he shot another question.
'But then… why was a price needed this time? Why couldn't you just intervene to save me like you always do?'
A few seconds passed before the voice replied.
'It is because it is not something I can always do. I've already broken the rule several times, already. The one who orchestrated your circumstance won't be too happy with it,' the voice explained, its tone filled with restraint.
Ezekiel's brows furrowed as he repeated the voice's words internally.
'The one who orchestrated my circumstance? What's that supposed to mean?' Ezekiel opened his mouth again, wishing to ask who this mysterious entity was. However, he stopped, realizing that the voice might simply deny him of any suitable answers. After all, it hadn't even answered his previous question. Instead, it chose to label it vaguely as going against the will of the one behind it all.
"...How much longer till I finally wake up?" Ezekiel decided to ask, instead, swallowing his brewing curiosity as he waited for a response.
"You sustained serious damage. It would be a while till you're fully healed," the voice said after a few moments, the continued. "Still, you did quite well out there. Holding out till the very end. Truly, you possess the soul of a warrior," it commented, its tone sounding deeply pleased.
Ezekiel shrugged off the voice's words, returning to his own swirling imaginations.
'Now that I've proven I'm useful, I'm sure Raphael would waste no time in putting my powers to good use. But still, that's not even the worst part,' he thought, fingers rattling. 'During the fight, I had to show what I was truly capable of. This is now what I imagined before heading there. Well, I guess it was inevitable, anyway.
'Regardless, how do I explain to him what it is without revealing anything crucial? If I tell him that I have to kill vampires to grow stronger, he'll just have another means to put me on a leash. By limiting my movements, he can, in turn, limit my powers.
'Do I just tell him I'm a special kind of mutant? Would he believe that? Well, after all, I still have that scent of a vampire. These guards would've ripped my to shreds right away if I was any different from them. Maybe Raphael would believe me if I say that, and I won't have anything to worry about,' Ezekiel decided, nodding to himself. 'Worst case scenario, he probes me for more answers. But, if I manage to keep myouth shut, I should be able to get through it while keeping my secrets to myself.'
...….
Ezekiel didn't know how long he was out.
After waking up, the first thing that came to view was the high ceiling above. Slowly, his head turned, a plethora of extravagance gracing his vision as his eyes narrowed.
His body turned, realizing he was laying on a lavish bed suffused with clean sheets and pillows. Just as he was about to ask what was going on, he heard steps, slow and chilling, travel through the air like an ominous breeze. He was far too occupied in his own thoughts to realize the figure emerging from a shrouded corner of the room.
Raphael's movements came to a halt. He stood just a few meters from the bed, the smile on his face complicated by that avaricious look in his eyes. Ezekiel shuddered under his gaze, rushing to get off the comfortable bed as he bowed down deeply.
"S-sir!" He stammered, lips chattering as the tyrant's presence weighed upon him. "I'm sorry, but… why am I here?" he gathered the courage to ask, silently regretting his decision as he waited for a response.