A week had passed since Leng Wei entered the camp. He had gradually adapted to the brutal conditions, learning to lower his gaze before the overseers, hide scraps of food, and do his work without attracting unwanted attention. Yet, the internal tension coiled tighter within him with each passing day.
Every night, the voices of the vampires in his head grew louder. He began to distinguish individual words: "boring...", "hunt...", "the new one...".
Li noticed his deteriorating state.
"You're not sleeping well," he muttered. "I told you, you can't show weakness."
One morning, the short, sadistic overseer Li had warned them about approached. His eyes gleamed with anticipation.
"Well, my defectives," he sneered. "Today is a special day. A test of endurance."
He singled out Leng Wei and Li.
"You two will clean the cesspits. No gloves. And if I see a single spot of clean skin..." He cracked his whip for emphasis.
The work was humiliating and dangerous—festering waste, sharp stones, toxic fumes. Li tried to shield Leng Wei, taking the heavier share of the labor upon himself.
"Don't push yourself," he whispered, his face pale. "I'm used to it."
But Leng Wei saw Li's hands bleeding from cuts, saw him grow paler with every breath of poisonous air.
When the work was nearly done, the short overseer returned. He inspected their efforts and grinned.
"Not clean enough. Punishment."
He raised his whip over Li. Leng Wei instinctively stepped forward.
"I didn't work hard enough. Punish me."
The overseer laughed, a harsh, grating sound.
"A hero? Fine. Die for your friend."
His whip whistled through the air—but it never struck Leng Wei. At the last second, Li shoved him aside and took the full, brutal impact himself. The crack of breaking ribs was sickening. Li collapsed, wheezing, blood trickling from his lips.
Leng Wei rushed to him, desperately trying to stem the bleeding.
"Hold on...! Just hold on, I'll help you...!"
But Li's breath had stilled. His final words were a ghost of a whisper:
"Run... live..."
The overseer wiped his whip clean with chilling indifference.
"Trash, taken out. Next!"
Something inside Leng Wei shattered.
The world slowed to a crawl. Sound faded into a dull roar. He no longer heard the overseer's taunts, no longer felt the sting of his own wounds. All he saw were dancing bloodstains before his eyes. A cold, all-consuming rage flooded every fiber of his being.
His blood boiled in his veins like molten metal. A crimson-gold light ignited behind his eyes. The brand on his wrist seared with blinding, white-hot agony.
"AWAKE!"
The voice in his mind finally broke through, clear and commanding, shattering the last vestiges of his control.
Leng Wei rose. His movements were unnaturally fluid, precise, stripped of all humanity. He did not see, did not hear, did not think—he was a vessel for an ancient, primal will.
"You... what are you?!" The overseer recoiled, genuine animal fear flashing in his eyes for the first time.
It was too late.
Leng Wei's body moved on its own. A blinding flash of crimson light—a concentrated blast of pure energy—erupted from his palm. The strike was instantaneous and silent. There was no scream—only the sound of shattering armor and the acrid smell of ozone and charred flesh.
When the light faded, a charred silhouette was scorched onto the wall. The overseer's lifeless body lay smoldering on the ground.
Leng Wei stood, dazed, unable to comprehend what he had done. He stared at his own hands, tendrils of smoke still curling from his palms.
The fire in his eyes extinguished as suddenly as it had ignited. The immense power that had filled him vanished, leaving behind a chilling, hollow void. His legs buckled. The last things he registered were the heavy footsteps of approaching guards and the terrified stares of the other slaves.
Li... The thought flickered in his fading consciousness. I'm sorry...
He woke in a punishment cell—a tiny, lightless stone box. His head throbbed, his entire body ached. He remembered nothing after Li's death. Only fragments: a flash of light, the overseer's look of horror... and then, nothing.
The door creaked open. The vampire warden with silver eyes stood in the doorway. His face was impassive, but a strange, keen interest burned in his gaze.
"You're awake," he stated, his voice calm. "Fascinating. Ordinary humans don't survive such a power discharge. And they certainly don't forget their actions afterward."
Leng Wei stared, uncomprehending.
"What... what did I do?"
The warden gave a low chuckle.
"You killed one of my men. And you don't even remember it." He leaned slightly closer. "Very... very interesting."
The door slammed shut, plunging Leng Wei back into darkness, alone with his grim, swirling thoughts.
He had killed? Him? But how? And why couldn't he remember?
He clenched his fists, feeling a fresh wave of despair and fear rise in his chest. He had become a monster. And he didn't even understand how.