Knife in hand, Riley dashed towards Scott. A thunderous crashing into the vampire with his shoulder, Riley gave the strike his all. The resulting impact burst the door open, sending him flying back as he rolled along the floor, quickly getting up and stopping his momentum.
"Tch," Scott muttered, annoyed and licking his teeth.
"If you hurt these people—I'll kill you," Riley said, an angry stare as he raised [Bleeding] up, pointing the blade directly at Scott.
"Hah," he responded, shrugging his shoulders. "You say that, yet your heart is racing. Aww, you scared?"
Quickly, Scott punched out the window, grabbing shards of glass and launching them at Riley.
The wannabe hero leapt to the side, avoiding the glass before Scott caught up to him. Winding his arm back, Scott impaled Riley through the stomach with his bare hands—his nails acting as daggers, the force sent Riley's viscera splashing onto the wall.
In retaliation, Riley slashed Scott's upper arm with [Bleeding], completely severing it.
The effect of [Bleeding] activating, an explosion of blood popped, spilling crimson onto the wooden flooring.
In response, Scott used his free hand, winding his arm back and digging his feet into the floor. With as much force as he could muster, he launched his fist forward, a resounding catapult snapping Riley's head to the side and sending his body flying through the air.
Slamming into the wall, Riley splattered across, his open stomach burning with hothothot pain. An entire arm lodged inside, he had been violently impaled.
"AGH, SHIT!"
Roaring in pain, the teenager looked down, his breath frantic. Chest moving up and down, he coughed, spat, vomited and wept blood. Dying, unmistakably.
"W-whgh, ghhh!!"
Never, not once in his life, had he been impaled. Looking down in the dark at the protruding forearm somewhere inside his large intestinal tract, Riley's vision went blurry with tears.
"...Hear that, Riley?" The vampire sadistically asked, silently walking over. "That's the sound of your breathing. Are your ears ringing yet?"
The vampire's arm, which should have been cleanly severed with one fell swoop of Riley's ability, had unexplainably grown back.
"Hk, gh, huah, pff—oh, fuck, fuckfuck—a-aaghh!!"
Panicking, Riley tried to stand, his legs wobbling as if made of jello. With distance between the floor and his guts, the blood now fell rather than seeped, causing drips and splashes to ring within the air.
"—Let me help you out," Scott growled, grabbing his own severed arm and forcefully ripping it out of Riley's stomach, jolting and rummaging the organs inside.
Within the human body, the insides ought to have been kept inside. The outsides, on the outside.
The instant that the "insides" were exposed to the world, something was terribly wrong.
"Y'know," Scott began, "you can heal your wounds quicker. Blood—blood is the source. Spilling the blood of humans regenerates much faster. Though, for your wound, I'd say you need a bit more than just human blood."
Riley's back dragging against the wall, painting it red, he collapsed to the ground. Vomit, he wanted to vomit and expel the fluids rapidly arising within his throat. His eyes swam up to see the heartless vampire before him.
"With a wound like that, you need to use—"
Within the dark house only illuminated by moonlight, a bright flash of yellow recovered vision. The lights in the hallway being turned on by the homeowners revealed their presence to Scott, who had focused on Riley.
Sharply turning his head, Scott saw a large man with graying hairs and pajamas on.
"—Actually, I've got a better idea."
His eyes widening, Riley pressed off the wall, trying to climb to his feet, unable to catch Scott in time as he rushed down the hallway in the blink of an eye. Grabbing the man by his head, he was lifted up with one arm, a demonstrative show of force by Scott.
Hurling him over to Riley, even the man's large body was treated as if it were a baseball, crashing into the wall at the end of the hall. The resounding thud causing blood to seep from his split open skin on the back of his skull, the man was instantly forced unconscious.
"This is what happens, y'know?" Scott said calmly, grabbing Riley's jaw and head. With a sharp jolt, the bones locked out of place, leaving Riley's mouth hanging agape, his throat forcing out his roars of pain.
Summoning [Hanging], the floating noose tried to wrap around Scott's neck. Yet, he simply severed it with his nails, before grabbing the man by the throat as he struggled.
"—He would've been a better target for that rope," Scott commented, easily slicing through the man's neck as if it were butter. From the gaping wound, blood sprayed, to which Scott forced Riley's open jaw closer, pressing the two wounds together.
The blood spilling out into Riley's mouth and down his throat, he tasted the putrid, iron-flavor of viscera. Forced upon the gullet, Riley felt his pain ease up.
—Even if he found it abhorrent, his flesh enjoyed it.
It tasted horrible. It was the mark of a lost life. It was an act of evil, the murdering of a father for no reason but to prove a point.
And yet, having abstained from murder for even just a day, his body was overcome with excitement and pleasure at the evil.
Tears of shame streaming down his face, Riley's body went limp.
Why do I enjoy this?
The neck shoved away from him, Riley's bloody lips and cheeks trembled. Looking up at Scott, who seemed pleased with his work, Riley's eyes narrowed.
"Good, ain't it? I dunno if it is—other servants say blood still tastes bad. But to me, it's the most exquisite kind of flavor. Rich and yummy. Buuuut, regardless, you're now healing much faster than before. You drank all that blood because you liked it."
His jaw was not broken. His impalement was slowly patching up, at the very least.
Riley's head hung low, his gaze dropping to the bloody mess on the ground.
"—Just stop fighting against it. It's all worthless anyways. Eat as much as you can find—live a little! Who cares if it hurts those pitifully weak human beings? We're better than them anyways. They don't care if they step on an ant—it's just the way the world works."
Sniffling, Riley shakily held his hands up to his head. Grabbing the roots of his hair, he salivated in anticipation.
"It's fine," Scott assured. "I went through this process too. At first, I fought against it. But I eventually came around after months and months of pointless suffering. You'll end up just like me, I promise. Better get it over with now, 'kay?"
—
At an earlier time in his life, just a few years ago, Scott had indeed grappled with the morality of his newfound status as a servant of the Forgotten King, Ghira.
A man who had been ostracized for his strange behavior, such as cutting himself open in class and drinking the blood which seeped from his wrists, as well as his morbid questions of asking those with open wounds to allow him to lick their marks—such a strange person was Scott Tobey.
However, despite being an overwhelmingly odd person, he was not evil. His first months as a servant being defined by their confusion and guilt, he had resorted to using himself as a human stress ball, utilizing his rapid healing to mutilate himself in order to satisfy his urge.
—
And yet, inevitably,
"Those early times were hard. But eventually, you decide you can't take it anymore, and you give up. I've followed your path Riley—it doesn't lead anywhere. Nowhere except guilt, weakness and sorrow."
The continuous battle against his flesh's desires was one he had lost. Accepting his evil compulsions and choosing to be swayed by them, he had surrendered control.
Extending his hand, Scott reached out.
"—Choose me, Riley."
Hugging his head, balled up on the floor, Riley's shaking breaths were all he could muster in response. He closed his eyes. Afraid. He did not want to accept Scott's hand, and yet his body screamed at him with all its might to accept him.
I don't… If I can just leave. If I can run away from everyone, I won't hurt them. If I hurt others, then… then I'll be fine. As long as the people I wish to save are not hurt, then I'll be fine. I know it.
—I was a terrible person from the start anyways.
Because Riley was not a good person to begin with, there was no point in trying.
Extending his hand, Riley—
"——A-ah…"
Turning his gaze, Riley saw a woman standing in the door frame at the end of the hall, looking in abject horror at the sight. From just under her, the young boy whose—
"Ah."
Muttering softly, Riley instinctively understood his decision. Knife in hand, he ravenously stabbed it through Scott's neck. Then, with a sharp tug, he eviscerated the rest of the neck, slashing it out and nearly decapitating the vampire.
Red, a sea of red seized the hallway, spraying with vigor enough to blind.
Scott roared, stepping backwards. His neck becoming a hose of viscera, he grabbed Riley by the collar and launched him down the hallway towards the woman and her child.
Crashing into the wall, Riley quickly got up, his lower face covered in blood. Seeing the fear in the child's eyes, he wiped his face, clearing it up and allowing the boy to see him clearly.
"You two—we have to leave!"
Shouting his commands, he dropped the knife to free his grips. Wrapping his arms around the two, he rushed out of the house, carrying them through the window.
"Dad!" The little boy cried out, having seen his father's corpse for a split second. The mother struggled against Riley, fearful of the intruder. Disregarding her struggle, Riley helped her out of the house, letting go of her and her son.
Breathing heavily, he swiped his forehead of the liquid, creating red smears along his skin on both his hands and head.
Once more summoning [Bleeding] to his hand, Riley faced the front door.
"You two—leave, now! There's a monster inside. Run away and seek shelter, or-or, er, call the police!"
His nerves screaming, Riley's mind went too fast for his tongue. The mother grabbed her son, picking him up and running away, to which Riley debated in his head.
Do I go back inside? No. If he runs away, then that's fine. I just need to make sure he doesn't go after the rest of this family.
Butterflies in his stomach, he quite literally shook with fear. Awaiting the deathmatch, he remained unmoving, trying to calm himself.
He hasn't come out yet. Is that good? I nearly beheaded him—that has to have done something, right? It has to have, it absolutely has to.
Yet, despite his consoling thoughts, something was unmistakably "off."
He'd acted on instinct. Knowing that the vampire was sure to lunge at the mother and her child, he resolutely plunged the knife into his neck with murderous intent.
Having come close to deciding to give up, the image of a child and a mother—people who could not protect themselves against the horrible monster that went by the simple name of "Scott," he had regained his reason for fighting.
—Yet, something was still off.
Why do I feel so uneasy?
He had betrayed someone who had thought he'd brought him to his side. Then, was it the guilt at betraying someone's trust?
That could not be it.
That, absolutely, could not be—
Mom.
Identifying the source of his anxiety, Riley Woods clenched the knife even tighter.
Scott had come to Riley's apartment. He knew where his family lived, and he knew that without question, Riley treasured them.
Kicking off the ground, Riley stormed the grounds, bashing the door off its hinges with his shoulder. Turning on as many lights as he could, Riley wished to ensure any potential fight was not in the dark—Scott's advantage. Rushing to the hallway, he found the father's large body shriveled and pale, having run dry of blood.
His target, then, was his fami—
"—Idiot."
From behind, a hand dug and clawed its way through Riley's anatomy. Slowly, each movement of the hand was felt. He felt it within him, within an area that shouldn't be touched—he felt the claws and hands of a monster rummaging through him.
One claw, two claws, three claws—
One final push tore open his stomach, his insides peeking out around the wrist, exposed to the outside world.
"Ghk—!"
"—Riley, you are my enemy."
With [Bleeding], blood loss was massively amplified. Even a small cut could bleed for minutes on end. Then, if an area such as the carotid artery was sliced, their neck would become an open geyser, leading to an almost guaranteed loss of life, regardless of servitude or not.
The sole exception of which would be Scott Tobey, the vampire.
Yet, even if he was an exception to that rule, [Bleeding] served another purpose. His vampirism-based regeneration dependent on the amount of blood absorbed, Scott lost unfathomable amounts of his blood-stock, provided the right area was struck. He couldn't even accept blood from other servant's, due to Ghira's own personal tastes.
Undeniably, Riley Woods was a terrifying monster, perhaps the only person in this world capable of killing the vampire without the use of bombs and chemical warfare.
Coughing up blood, his insides having been touched, Riley's neck gave out, looking dead on the ground.
Another method—I need another method.
[Hanging], a well known method. [Bleeding], yet another well known method. However, clinging to the method men were most prone to, Riley activated it.
A 44. Magnum, six shot revolver teleporting into his hand, Riley pressed the tip against his chest. And, without giving it a second thought,
Even if it kills only me in the end—as long as you're held off for even a few more seconds, it's worth it.
Three shots fired in quick succession, their resounding noise and the pain caused by them caused Scott to rip his arm out of Riley's stomach, leaping backwards with grit teeth.
Riley wheezed, his sternum shattered from the impactful shots as he instantly collapsed, screaming in pain from his eviscerated organs, which cuddled up outside his stomach along the wooden floor, spilling out amongst his sea of blood.
His ears ringing, the heightened senses of Scott's ears had caused the loud gunfire to pierce his ears as though tissue, feeling like they'd directly assaulted his brain.
Rolling over, Riley looked up at Scott from the ground. Wheezing, he was in agony. Yet, seeing Scott cover his ears and show him a pathetically pained expression, Riley felt joy.
His heart brimming with dark humor, the wannabe hero pointed the gun upwards with a twisted smile curving across his cheeks.
Without wasting a moment to speak or think, Riley let out one more shot, sending the bullet directly through Scott's skull.
—This was not the first time guns had been used against him.
A mistake he learned from early on in his career as a servant, Scott learned that guns were still frightening. Even if he possessed strength unmatched by even the top athletes and strongmen of the world, even if he could keep up with cars, even if he could withstand stabbings as though they were light pokes—guns were still frightening to go against.
They could still shred apart his body with relative ease, even if most handguns stopped at the bone in his case.
Yet, even despite that uncomfortable reality, they were not enough to kill him once he was at his peak.
With his body collapsing to the ground, it then rose a moment later. Even if they were dangerous and had stopping power, his regeneration was simply that great—the pinnacle of what it meant to be a servant of Ghira.
"Ah," Riley weakly muttered, opening fire and letting out the final two shots, spraying chunks of brain matter across the floor and walls, painting them with his bio.
Even still, he managed to get up, utilizing the last of the blood he'd taken from the father's corpse. Riley pulled the trigger once more, only to hear a click.
It was a six shot, after all.
However, that was enough. The fearful servant fully stood, an unnerved expression on his face as he ran wet with a cold sweat.
"—Tch."
Running dry. The vampire had run out of its stock, and was now facing difficulty regenerating. Turning his back on Riley, Scott rushed out of the home.
Wait, that kid is still out there…!
His twisted grin vanishing, Riley tried to stand. It was a pathetic attempt, trying to press himself off the ground. Yet, even the slightest movement caused unbearable pain, making standing an impossibility.
Shit, shit shit. Then, what do I do?
He could not move. Unable to get up and run to protect those who could not protect themselves, the wannabe hero found himself utterly helpless.
Then,
[Hanging]. Come, get me.
The rope tying around his palm, Riley utilized the floating rope to fly out of the house, as if puppeteered as a marionette. Traveling as fast as he could, Riley's eyes trained within the darkness of the city to find the vampire.
That speeding darkness chasing down the mother and her child, Riley instinctively knew all too well the limits of his current speed. Whilst still moving incredibly fast, [Hanging] did not compare to the biomechanics of a sprinting vampire.
And, unable to catch up in time,
"W-wait! DON'T—"
His words not reaching the cold heart, the vampire reached what was left of the family. Swiftly, a resounding impact pierced the woman's heart. Lodged through her chest was an arm. Pulsing. Her body seizing with pulsating contractions, the woman's body quickly was left bereft of blood.
She was dropped to the ground, as the vampire looked down at the boy. Without any words, Scott threw a kick out to split the child's head open.
To steal the mother's blood to remain alive—that was his logical decision.
To kill the child to make Riley's heart ache—that was his illogical decision.
Yet, finally catching up, the wannabe hero took the impact to his own body, being sent flying through the air. Sliding down the asphalt as if he'd flown from the windshield of a car, Riley's clothes scraped open.
Sending [Hanging], it wrapped around the child's waist and lifted them away, protecting them whilst Riley couldn't.
"Tch," Scott vocalized, looking over at Riley. Saying nothing more, Scott continued staring, his narrowed eyes, tensed brows and slight frown speaking for him.
Why? Why wouldn't Riley give up?
Even Scott, early on as a servant, would never have gone this far to save the prey. It was vexing and infuriating, an absurdity which he couldn't understand.
Could it be that he didn't actually have to surrender to his desires? What if. What if he had made the wrong decision?
"—That's not it."
Speaking with a stern voice, Scott scowled. "That can't be it. This is the fate every servant goes down, regardless of how much they'll struggle. It's an inevitability. That has to be the truth."
Speaking to himself, the strangeness he once held tightly had resurfaced.
With a quick shaking of his head, he tensed his hand, his nails sharpening.
"I'll just go ahead and finish the job."
Riley Woods, unable to stand on his own, was gravely injured. Three shots through his chest, an open stomach—and no blood to heal the wound.
"But, there is another way to heal."
Flinching upon receiving that voice in his head, Riley looked up at the moon.
"Sacrifice your own blood. Regenerate your wounds at the cost of your own blood."
Without a second thought, Riley activated the technique, the holes in his body patching up almost instantly. Slowly standing, he felt horrible.
His skin a pale white, a terrible sensation of hunger and thirst overwhelming him, and a weakness in his muscles had made the healing perhaps not even worth the cost.
He was unable to fight either way.
Glancing over, he made sure that the boy was set down safely on a rooftop with [Hanging], before resummoning [Shooting] and pointed the revolver at Scott. Pulling the trigger, all he heard was a click.
Ah?
[Shooting] did not refill its bullets with each summoning.
The vampire began walking over to him, licking his teeth. [Hanging], a noose wrapped around Riley's waist tightly as he stood. Breathing heavily, the weak man put his hands up, raising them into a boxing stance as he stared forward with fear.
I'm scared, I'm scared, I'm scared.
——His blood loss reducing oxygen to his brain, he struggled to think clearly.
Using [Hanging], he ensured he was upright. If he was upright, he could fight.
Fighting, he had to fight. To protect those unaware of the monsters. Frightening. Fear, fear, it was all fear.
He was going to die. Death, was frightening. He was, afraid.
Yet he had to, to fight. To continue fighting. Vomit, he wanted, to, vomit.
Incomprehensible. A rush of, darkness? Pain, pain in the stomach. Move forward with the noose. Controlled forward, he was, puppeteered into action. A blurry mess. Pain in the head. He was, punched?
Jerked back, his head was twisted away. Yet, the rope around him. Moved him forward. Swinging his arm wildly, he felt. The pain of his knuckles. Crashing backwards, a vampire.
—Sirens.
Was it, salvation? Blue and red. Blue and red. Blue and red.
"—nnoying. One day, we'll meet again. Next time, I won't let you protect anyone."
Turning his back, the vampire rushed off into the night. Alone, Riley was no longer fighting.
His rapid breaths moving his chest up and down, the rope around him vanished. Collapsing to the ground, Riley had barely survived the fight.
With two parents and a childhood having perished.