"Not enough… still starving!"
Frost flung away the desiccated husk in his grip and lunged at the last of his screaming vampire goons.
He was a red blur. Hands clamped necks, fangs sank in, bodies withered in seconds. In under a minute the entire squad lay crumpled like juice boxes at a kids' party. Frost stood alone, licking crimson from his lips.
"Finally full."
Daniel stared, jaw on the floor.
"FROST!"
Blade charged, silver longsword flashing in a perfect arc. Frost's head leapt from his shoulders and spun through the air like a basketball.
Then the nightmare happened.
Thick ropes of blood exploded from the stump, snaked through the air, and yanked the head back onto the neck with a wet snap. Flesh knitted. In two seconds Frost was grinning again.
"What the actual fuck?!" Blade blurted.
"HAHAHAHA!" Frost threw his head back. "Behold the Blood God's gift: true immortality!"
He vanished, reappearing inside Blade's guard. One punch caved the Daywalker's chest.
BOOM!
Blade rocketed backward, blood spraying, and crashed next to Daniel.
"Careful," he coughed. "Silver barely slows him down."
"I noticed."
Daniel raised the Golden Desert Eagle and double-tapped: brain, heart.
Bang! Bang!
The holes sealed before the echo faded.
Frost cracked his neck. "A human who wants to die first? How thoughtful."
He blurred forward, claws sprouting like switchblades.
Reaper's Eye.
Time crawled. Daniel sidestepped, whipped out a glowing watermelon knife, and diced Frost into sushi in 0.8 seconds.
Swish-swish-swish!
Blood tendrils lashed out, stitching the chunks back together like a horror-movie stop-motion.
Frost reformed, smirking. "Cute. Try all you want. I'm beyond death."
Daniel's eyebrow arched. "You sure about that? Because you just gave me permission."
The knife vanished. A six-barrel Gatling gun materialized in his hands.
Frost: "???"
BRRRRRRRRRRT—!
A solid wall of silver tore the night apart. Frost disappeared inside a hurricane of holy metal.
Thanks to Stane's former bank account, money was literally no object. Daniel sprayed like a billionaire at a champagne fight.
Frost became Swiss cheese on fast-forward: holes everywhere, flesh writhing, trying and failing to close faster than it opened.
Blade watched the silver expenditure with physical pain. That's like… three sports cars per second.
Yet beneath the carnage, Daniel's eyes gleamed.
There it was, floating above Frost's head: a bright red HP bar, actually dropping.
"Told you," Daniel grinned. "Once the health bar shows up, you're just a boss with fancy regen."
The Gatling roared louder, pinning the regenerating mess in place.
Frost screamed through the storm, body exploding and reforming in an endless, gruesome loop. He probably had half his body weight in silver lodged inside him now.
"YOU LITTLE—!"
Pure rage overrode self-preservation. Regeneration spiked. Bloody chunks slammed together into a vaguely human shape riddled with holes.
"I'LL DRAIN YOU DRY!"
Frost launched himself forward, claws first, betting everything on one lunge.
Daniel's smile turned absolutely demonic.
"Muay Thai time."
The minigun vanished.
Right elbow cocked like a piston, then rocketed straight into Frost's face.
CRUNCH!
Nose, cheekbones, and pride collapsed inward. Teeth became expensive confetti.
Before Frost could even register pain, Daniel's hands locked behind the vampire's skull. Left knee rose.
Direct. Hit.
THWOCK!
Frost's immortal scream hit frequencies only dogs and dolphins could hear.
Vampire or not, the equipment downstairs was still standard-issue male.
Frost folded like cheap lawn furniture.
Daniel didn't stop. Knee after knee hammered the exact same spot in brutal succession.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
Each impact produced a higher, more broken shriek.
Even Blade, the guy who'd gutted thousands of bloodsuckers, instinctively crossed his legs and winced.
Bro… who's the real monster here?!