Dominik's knife was a cold, biting line against my throat. I could feel the heat of my own blood, Roxy's blood, trickling down the blade. The predatory strength of Miera had vanished with my mana, leaving me small, trembling, and utterly exposed as the girl from the crosswalk.
"Hahahaha… you weakling, you dare challenge me you flea!"
Dominik's sadistic laughter died in his throat as the heavy, rhythmic clack of boots grew closer. He didn't pull the knife away, but his grip shifted, his knuckles white with sudden tension.
A figure stepped into the flickering light of the dining hall.
She was tall and slender, her presence commanding the air in the room until it felt too thin to breathe. She wore a pristine white trench coat that seemed to repel the flour and gore coating the floor. Her hair was a shock of pale silver, tied back in a sharp, bob cut, and her eyes were a piercing, icy blue that held no warmth, only a terrifying, clinical curiosity.
"Wh-White…" I gasped.
"Oh, there's another bitch."
White didn't look at the carnage of the slaughtered maids. She didn't look at the shattered walls. She looked only at me, or rather, the pathetic, human version of me that remained in Dominik's grasp.
Dominik snarled, his voice cracking with a mixture of bravado and instinctual fear.
"Stay back, bitch! I don't care who you are. This girl is mine. One more step and I'll open her throat from ear to ear!"
White stopped. She tilted her head slightly, the light catching the silver-framed spectacles perched on her nose. She didn't raise a weapon. She simply reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, silver pocket watch, checking the time with an indifference that was more chilling than Dominik's knife.
"You speak as if I should care who you are,"
White said, her voice a smooth, melodic soprano that felt like a razor blade against the skin. She looked at Dominik the way a scientist looks at a common insect under a microscope, not with hatred, but with a complete lack of interest.
"I have no idea who you are, and frankly, your name is a detail I do not care to memorize before you are erased."
White snapped the watch shut with a sharp click that echoed like a gunshot through the kitchen. She finally turned her gaze to Dominik, and for a second, his shadow seemed to shrink away from her.
"You have five seconds to decide Do you wish to die as a stranger who tried to kill a girl... or do you wish to see what happens when I stop holding the butcher's leash?"
Dominik's hand trembled. The knife nicked my skin, a fresh bead of red blooming on my neck.
"What... What are you talking about? Look at her! She's nothing! She's just a broken brat!"
White's eyes shifted back to mine, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something ancient and hungry behind those blue irises.
"Time up," she murmured.
With a fluid, metallic hiss, White unsheathed a slender, elegant rapier from beneath her coat. In an instant, the blade erupted in a blinding, holy radiance, imbued with light magic that seared the shadows of the kitchen. She became a blur of white light, sprinting toward Dominik at a speed that defied human biology.
"Hahahaha… let the games begin!"
Dominik's eyes widened, but his instincts were those of a seasoned killer. Without a shred of mercy, he released his grip on my hair, dropping me headfirst onto the hard kitchen tile. The world rattled behind my eyes as my skull hit the floor, stars exploding in my vision.
"Roxy, snap out of it!" Plasma muttered.
"Fuck! I can't breathe."
Above me, I heard the screech of metal on metal, Dominik had raised his rusted dagger just in time to parry White's glowing blade. The shockwave of their collision sent a shower of sparks over my shivering body.
I was slipping away. The darkness was pulling at my edges, promising an end to the pain. But as I lay there, my face pressed against the cold floor, I saw Dominik's leg, the limb of the man who had mocked the dead, who had turned me into a "shivering doll."
"Roxy, now!"
Plasma signaled me and used all my strength to execute the plan. A primal, jagged heat surged through my empty veins. One last time.
"Payback!"
My fangs snapped forward, aching with a desperate hunger. With a guttural, animalistic snarl, I lunged from the floor and sank my teeth deep into Dominik's calf.
The taste of his blood hit my tongue, hot, foul, and overflowing with the mana I needed to survive. I drained every bit of his vitality flowing into me, a stolen life-force that began to knit my spirit back together.
My throat healed together and I can finally breathe, I continued sucking his calves until his body weakens. Now, Dominik noticed my actions.
"AGHHHH! YOU FILTHY PARASITE!" Dominik shrieked, his voice cracking in raw agony.
Distracted by the sudden drain, his defense against White faltered. In a desperate, panicked burst of strength, he slammed his shoulder into White, throwing her back with enough force to send her crashing into the heavy prep table.
Dominik turned his gaze down toward me, his face pale and twisted with a mixture of horror and revulsion.
"Get... off... me!"
He swung his heavy boot, connecting squarely with my jaw. I felt my teeth rattle as I was launched into the air. I crashed into the kitchen's storage racks, landing amidst a rain of sharp cutlery. Forks, knives, and metal skewers pierced my skin as I tumbled through the mess, the pain blinding me once more.
Dominik staggered, clutching his mangled, bleeding leg. He looked at me through the white dust of the kitchen, his eyes twin pits of hate.
"Look at you, a bloodsucker. A freak. You think that makes you a hero, Roxy? You're just a mosquito feeding on the world's rot."
He was so focused on his own venomous words that he didn't feel the shift in the air behind him. White had already recovered, her glowing rapier held low as she charged from the shadows. Dominik didn't realize until it was too late, his back was wide open, and the white hunter was closing in to finish what the butcher had started.
"You dare hurt my friend, Roxy!"
The kitchen was a chaotic haze of white flour and crimson spray. Dominik's back was wide open, a jagged ruin of flesh where I had torn into him. Sensing the kill, White didn't hesitate. She surged forward, her rapier held high, the light magic radiating from the blade so intense it began to singe the very air.
"Die!" she cried, bringing the blade down in a lethal, vertical arc intended to cleave him in two.
But Dominik was a career monster for a reason. Just as the glowing tip was an inch from his spine, his form shivered. In a blink, he triggered his Invisibility. White's rapier whistled through empty space, biting deep into the tiled floor with a deafening crack and a burst of holy light that sent shards of ceramic flying.
She had overextended.
"Looking for me, angel?" Dominik's voice hissed from the void.
He materialized directly behind her, his face twisted into a mask of pure, ecstatic evil. Before White could even pull her blade from the floor, Dominik drove his rusted dagger into her back.
"You sly wolf, test me if you want! Clack!"
White's eyes blew wide, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as the blade found its home. But Dominik wasn't done. With a guttural roar of sadistic joy, he gripped the hilt with both hands and began to push the knife downward.
"Ahhhhhhhh…"
I watched from the floor, paralyzed, as the steel grated against her spine, carving through muscle and grazing every bit of bone along her back. The sound was sickening, the sound of a butcher working on a carcass that was still alive. White finally found her voice, a high-pitched, agonizing scream that echoed through the kitchen.
Desperate, her hands began to glow with a soft, pulsing light. Healing Magic.
She tried to seal the wound even as the knife was inside her, the skin beginning to knit around the blade. Dominik felt the resistance and let out a manic, mocking laugh.
"Oh, no you don't! If you want to heal, I'll just give you more to work with!" he snarled.
He leaned his entire weight into the hilt, driving the knife deeper and dragging it further down her back, widening the ruin. I could see the light in White's hands flickering, dimming with every inch the blade traveled. She was pouring every ounce of her mana into the wound, trying to fight off the death he was carving into her, but it was a losing battle.
"Look at you! The holy warrior, screaming like a pig in a slaughterhouse! Where's your light now? Where's your god?"
Dominik mocked, his face inches from her ear as she trembled in fear.
White's knees hit the floor. Her mana was completely depleted, the golden glow from her hands sputtering out like a dying candle. She slumped forward, her breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches of pure agony, while Dominik kept his hand on the knife, savoring the vibration of her suffering through the hilt.
"You're empty, just another broken stranger in my kitchen." Dominik whispered, his voice dripping with venom.
I lay among the cutlery, the blood I had drained from his leg beginning to hum in my veins. He had forgotten about me. He thought the "shivering doll" was finished. He didn't see my eyes turning a deeper, darker red as the Blood Curse began to boil.
The blood I had stolen from Dominik's leg was like liquid fire in my veins. The internal bleeding slowed, fueled by the very vitality Dominik had used to torment me.
Beside me, White's body went limp. Her golden light had completely flickered out, her mana drained to the dregs as she slipped into unconsciousness. Dominik stood over her like a vulture, his face twisted in a mask of pure, ecstatic evil. He raised his rusted dagger, the tip aimed directly at her throat.
"One stranger down," he hissed.
My senses screamed. Every instinct I had suppressed as "Roxy" was replaced by the jagged, predatory hunger of the Blood Curse. I stood up and erupted from the floor. The shards of cutlery fell from my skin as my mana formed, warping into the serrated Blood Sword.
"Leave her alone!" I roared.
I lunged, charging straight at his exposed back. Dominik, sensing the shift in the air, spun around with inhuman reflexes.
CLANG!
The sound of my blood-red blade meeting his rusted steel echoed through the kitchen like a death knell. We stood locked in a stalemate, our faces inches apart, the air between us thick with the scent of ozone and iron.
"Still alive, little parasite? You're like a cockroach. No matter how many times I step on you, you just keep twitching. You think that stolen blood makes you a warrior? You're still just a shivering doll playing with a sharp toy."
Dominik mocked, his voice a low, vibrating growl of malice.
He leaned into the clash, his superior strength forcing my arms to tremble.
"Look at your friend. Look at the maids. You couldn't save any of them. You're just a failure with a fancy curse."
His words hit me like physical blows, but instead of breaking me, they fueled the fire. My vision turned a blinding, crystalline red. I felt the Blood Curse respond to my rage, a new power surging into the hilt of my sword.
"Defense Reduction"
The crimson mana on my blade began to vibrate with a high-pitched, lethal frequency. I let out a guttural scream and swung with everything I had. The edge of my Blood Sword caught his dagger. There was a sickening screech of metal as my magic ate through the durability of his weapon.
I used my inspect on Dominik's knife.
Iron Knife.
Durability: 250/1000
Damage: 50
The steel groaned, the blade nearly splitting in half as it reached the point of shattering.
Dominik's eyes widened. For the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine shock in his gaze. But it was quickly replaced by a cold, tactical cruelty.
"Clever girl," he spat.
Before I could follow through with a killing blow, Dominik's heavy boot slammed into my right leg with the force of a falling mountain.
CRACK.
The sound of my femur snapping was louder than the battle. I felt the bone tear through the skin, the jagged white edge exposed to the cold kitchen air. My leg gave out instantly, and I collapsed onto the tiles, my breath hitching in a silent scream.
My world blurred, the agony enough to make my heart stop. But I didn't let the darkness take me.
Pain Manipulation.
I forced the mana to flood my nervous system, dulling the white-hot flare of the break into a heavy, distant throb. I lay there, one leg shattered and useless, staring up at the man who had turned my life into a slaughterhouse. I was down, but as I gripped the hilt of my sword, I knew one thing.
"He was finally running out of weapons."