After a few hours, night fell once more. The full moon dominated the starless sky, solitary and resplendent.
From above, as seen from a satellite, New York City could be seen completely illuminated, like a sea of fireflies.
In one of its remote parts, in an abandoned building...
Lucien lay there, still unconscious.
Until, suddenly, he sat up as if gravity had decided to stop affecting him.
His eyes opened, but they were no longer those of a human: they were cold, bright, alert.
He sniffed the air once... and his expression changed. He could smell blood from miles away.
Then, his body tensed up.
"Aghhh...!"
He hunched forward as a searing pain shot through his back. Near his shoulder blades, something began to move... to push... to break.
Crack. Crack. CRACK.
His spine arched unnaturally, and with a wet, grotesque snap, a pair of elegant bat wings sprouted from his back.
They spread out magnificently, as if the night itself had been waiting for them.
Lucien stood still for a second, staring in an unknown direction, as if something were calling him.
"…"
And then he lunged forward.
In one swift motion, he broke through the wall of the building, shattering it into pieces.
And he flew into the darkness.
Shortly after, a woman with dark purple hair emerged from the shadows under the silvery moonlight.
"Now this is an interesting situation," she smiled amusedly, and a pair of elegant bat wings also emerged from her back, and with a giggle, she murmured, "Let's see how many deaths it will cause.~"
She took out her latest model phone from the bitten-apple brand, checked the tracker she had put on Lucien, and left the building, taking flight into the sky.
...
High in the sky, Lucien watched the illuminated city with an indifferent expression; everything seemed foreign to him, almost unreal.
He looked down and sniffed the air.
Sniff... sniff...
Now that night had fallen, he felt all his senses receive a boost, but that wasn't what mattered: he wanted only one thing: blood.
Lucien leaned forward when he saw his first victim and, like an eagle, swooped down to hunt it.
...
In a dingy alleyway, with a strong smell of urine and dimly flickering neon lights, a drunk man leaned against the wall while talking on the phone... and urinating.
"Bro, tonight was legendary," he stammered between hoarse laughs. "I banged a chick in the bathroom, hahahaha... The problem was that her boyfriend showed up, but don't worry, I showed him my Glock, and he shit himself. Anyway, his girlfriend was crazy; she made me feel so good... Shit, I got it on my shoes!"
Suddenly, he fell silent upon hearing a wet noise behind him. He blinked several times, confused, and frowned as his unsteady body tried to turn around.
There was nothing there.
Then, a second sound pierced him like a knife: a crack, sharp, clear, too close.
A chill ran down his spine. He swallowed hard, feeling his hands shake uncontrollably. Sweat drenched his forehead, and a desperate, almost childish impulse made him wish he had never left the bar.
He turned his head extremely slowly, as if afraid that a sudden movement might trigger everything.
And then he saw it.
A shadow emerged from the darkness with an animalistic leap, straight toward his face. He didn't have time to scream. Something cold, complex, and sharp clamped onto his neck.
"AHHHHHHHHH!" The scream erupted in the street as the creature sank its fangs violently.
He felt the pull, the tear, the burning suction that drained his life as if it were water. The world began to darken.
As blood filled his mouth, he felt a dark thrill run through him... and, to his own surprise, he felt no guilt—only... satisfaction.
Lucien, his eyes shining brightly, squeezed even harder. His jaw closed with such force that a nauseating crack announced the fracture of bone.
CRUNCH!
The drunkard's body collapsed instantly, hitting the pavement with a dull thud. He was now nothing more than a flaccid shell, his skin clinging to his bones as if the blood had been forcibly drained from every corner of his body.
Lucien slowly raised his head, breathing deeply. He licked his lips, savoring the last drops escaping from his fangs. But he was not satisfied.
No.
Not yet.
A tremor of pleasure ran through his body, triggering a fierce need.
He wanted more!
More blood!
He spread his bat wings and took to the air in search of his next victim.
Then, from the cell phone, which was still on, a nervous voice was heard:
[Mathias, Mathias... what happened? I heard a scream, Mathias. Why aren't you answering? Mathias! Mathias!]
The phone was left lying on the floor, and the only one who answered was a stray cat that meowed, approached the corpse... and then walked away, wrinkling its nose.
...
Several miles away, an abandoned church stood like a tombstone against the night sky. The rusted cross was crooked, the windows broken, and yet... There was light inside.
And voices.
Many voices.
"Oh, Lord, who art in heaven..."
"May the Red Lamb open our eyes..."
"Hallowed be thy name..."
"...may the night accept us..."
"Thy kingdom come..."
"May the Holy Blood purify our souls..."
The interior of the church looked more like a clandestine ritual than a mass.
Hooded bodies, chalices filled with a dark liquid, symbols painted with something no one dared to identify.
On the podium, an inverted cross held a statue of Blanca crying blood.
A man wearing a black priest's robe and holding a wooden crucifix, trembling with emotion.
"Brothers, this is a great night. I have received a revelation from our Lord that, more than a century ago, he sent his son into this world, who was crucified, bearing all our sins. Tonight..."
BOOOOM!
The doors exploded. The boards flew like projectiles, the hinges shot off, and the chalices fell to the floor with a metallic clatter.
Everyone turned and saw him.
Lucien was there, floating a meter above the floor, his wings spread, his red eyes shining brightly.
Fresh blood stained his neck and shirt.
He looked like a demon fresh out of hell.
One of the hooded men swallowed hard.
"Is this... the chosen one?"
Lucien looked at them all, revealing his long fangs.
"Run!" shouted the man in the priest's robe. Although he was the first to move, he was already about to leave.
But Lucien made a move... in the blink of an eye, he appeared in front of the man in the priest's robe, and his fangs sank into his collarbone; warm, thick blood spurted out. He savored it.
Lucien was not himself; it was as if he were intoxicated and moved simply by instinct and his desire to drink blood.
He was losing himself, becoming a bloodthirsty creature.
Then, the body fell like a broken doll.
"AHHH!!!"
"Save me, I don't want to die!"
The screams soon echoed through the church; they sounded like pigs in a slaughterhouse ready to be sacrificed.
One of them tried to flee toward the pews, but Lucien grabbed him by his backpack and dragged him up as if he weighed nothing.
He picked it up... sniffed it... and threw it against the wall with such force that it stuck there like a modern painting.
Three more tried to run toward the exit; Lucien took a step, just one step, and he was already behind them.
The blood mingled with the glow of the candles, creating shadows that seemed to dance on the walls.
It was a beautiful scene.
"HAHAHAHA~! I want more!" Lucien laughs like a madman as he bathes in the blood of the person he just killed.
"Don't get lost in that feeling, or you'll turn into a monster," a woman's annoyed voice can be heard.
Those words hit Lucien like a bucket of cold water; the intense sparkle in his eyes disappeared.
"Gasp... gasp... gasp... Damn it, shit, what's happening to me?" His chest rises and falls violently; his eyes flash at times when he smells blood, but he does his best not to give in to that instinct.
He looks up and sees a beautiful, pale woman with long, floor-length hair in a deep purple. She has eyes of the same color, an attractive figure, G-cup breasts, and a prominent rear end that is accentuated by the black jeans she is wearing.
Approximately 1.80 meters tall.
"Don't let yourself be carried away by that instinct; control it so you can think clearly," explained the woman with her arms crossed.
'But that's what I'm trying to do!' Lucien restrains himself from yelling in his face, but he is focused on controlling that strong instinct to cause disaster while drinking blood.
After a few minutes, Lucien is finally able to sit up; he has achieved a strange balance between his instinct and his rationality.
He sighs deeply and finally asks:
"Who are you?"
The woman with dark purple hair smiles, revealing her two fangs, spreads her wings, and says in a neutral tone:
"Tell me, what do you think I am?"