For as long as humanity has existed, it has believed itself to be safe behind technology and society, protected from the predators of the wild. Well, little did they know.
That some predators lurk in plain sight.
Langwell City, Night
Shrouded in darkness, its streets are illuminated only by the occasional flicker of neon signs and the dim glow of streetlights. The shadows stretched long and deep, hiding secrets and mysteries in every corner. A cold, biting wind whispered through the alleys, carrying with it the echoes of distant footsteps and the faint rustle of leaves.
In the alleyway, a man in a jersey shirt and cargo shorts runs frantically, his feet hitting the pavement while the sound of lightbulbs shattering behind him. One. By. One.
Heart pounding, he zigzagged between overflowing dumpsters and abandoned crates, desperately seeking refuge from his unseen pursuer. The air was thick with tension, each breath feeling like shards of ice slicing through his lungs as he pushed himself to run faster. Around him, the shadows seemed to dance and shift, obscuring his path and making every turn a gamble between safety and a dead end. Then his body hits a dead end, and before he can find a scaffold, a sweet, yet wicked voice calls to him.
"There's no use in running, lil mouse~."
The man quickly turned, having his back to the wall, as he looked at the silhouette of a woman with an hourglass figure, long hair, and in a dark blue cocktail dress.
"You know it's rude to make a lady work for her meal," The mysterious woman cooed with a sinister undertone. "Now, tell me, servant. Where is your master?"
"I-I don't know what the hell you're talking about," the man yelled, trying to pass off as oblivious.
The woman's lips curled into a predatory smile, revealing a flash of sharp, gleaming fangs. Her sapphire blue eyes glinted with an unsettling mixture of amusement and irritation, as if she found his denial both predictable and tiresome. "Oh, darling," she purred, taking a slow, deliberate step forward, "I do hope you won't make this too difficult. Lying only prolongs the inevitable."
"Now, I'll say it again, vassel." The woman said, her tone dropping as cold as ice. "Where. Is. The Dawnstrider?"
The man gulped, revealing who she was after.
As the man lowered his head, a diminutive smirk appeared before saying quietly, "Sorry, Amir. I guess I won't be coming back to the dorm."
Then he looks brazenly at the woman and yells, "Wow, you vampires really don't want your Matriarch to be found, huh?"
The woman growled when the word the vampire was used and hissed, "You dare to mock my blood with that vulgar name?" Then her irritation turned into cruel amusement as her chest slowly glowed to a maroon hue. "Well, maybe I can 'educate' you before you die."
As the woman blitzes towards the man, and screams echo from the alleys, yet...
No one came.
MorningWestgrove Apartment
The shrill sound of a digital alarm clock shattered the stillness of the disheveled bedroom, where crumpled sheets lay entangled on the bed and clothes were strewn across the floor like fallen leaves. Sunlight struggled to pierce through the half-drawn curtains, casting a muted glow that contrasted sharply with the cacophony of the blaring alarm.
A hand slipped out—feminine, calloused—and fumbled across the nightstand before slapping the snooze button with the practiced aggression of someone who'd fought worse battles in worse places.
Pulling back the sheets and sitting up, a Caucasian woman in her mid-20s with a mesomorphic physique, long, messy raven hair, tired grey eyes, and a tattoo of an eagle with its wings spread on her right bicep. She wears a Metallica T-shirt and gym shorts.
"Damn, why the hell did I set it to wake me up at nine?" The woman groaned as she rubbed her eyes.
Former Cop turned Private InvestigatorSarah Cayde Moore (27)
Sarah shuffled to the kitchen after a quick shower, her bare feet padding softly on the wooden floor. She brewed a strong cup of coffee, its rich aroma filling the air as she leaned against the counter, savoring the warmth of the mug in her hands, relishing the comforting heat as she took her first sip, savoring its rich flavor. With her coffee finished, Sarah placed the mug down with a gentle clink. She moved gracefully to the living room, where her punching bag swayed slightly on its sturdy stand, ready for action. Tying her hair back, she felt a surge of energy and purpose, eager to embrace the workout that awaited her.
She grabbed a pair of gloves from the coffee table and turned her small HD TV to provide background noise as she began her workout. Sarah started with a series of rapid jabs, her fists connecting with the bag in a rhythmic dance that echoed through the room. She followed up with powerful hooks and uppercuts, each punch delivered with precision and strength. Her movements were fluid and controlled, transitioning seamlessly from punches to kicks, her feet pivoting with agility as she executed roundhouse and front kicks with the grace of a seasoned fighter. As sweat began to glisten on her brow, the TV blurted as the news anchor began to report.
"Breaking news. The report came in as the body of a nineteen-year-old college student, Reilly Haas, was found murdered."
Sarah stopped mid-kick upon hearing the news, and she slowly turned her attention to the television to learn more about the incident.
"This morning at 5:45 A.M., Paul Winston, a local bar owner, discovered the body of Reilly Haas near the dumpsters. The victim had multiple broken bones and a severe open wound on his neck. This marks the fifth death linked to this horrific method. Authorities, along with the mayor, are considering implementing a curfew while law enforcement continues the search for the killer. More details will be available at noon."
Her heart sank as a wave of dread washed over her, the familiar pang of loss hitting her hard. Memories of past cases and the faces of victims she couldn't save flashed through her mind. Clenching her fists, Sarah felt a renewed determination build within her, knowing she had to find justice for Reilly and prevent further tragedies.
After a couple of minutes, Sarah stepped out of her apartment with polished red lips, a black leather jacket with shoulder lining pads, buttoned up to only show a bit of her cleavage, a collar choker and a silver buckle, tight fading blue jeans with ripped knees, and mid-length moto boots with white trim.
"Okay," Sarah declared as she put on her aviator sunglasses. "Time to get on the case and piss off my ex-boss."
Walking out of the apartment complex, Sarah is greeted by the serene warmth of sunlight. A feeling that will soon be replaced by horror later on. As she gets to her ride, a red and black Harley-Davidson, a whistle catches her attention.
Sarah shifted her gaze to an African American woman in her late 20s. She had a medium-brown complexion, short, slicked-back pixie haircut, hazel eyes, and gold stud earrings. She is wearing a blue button-up dress shirt adorned with a golden badge featuring an image of Langwell City, along with the words "Langwell Police Department" etched around it. She wears black dress pants with a slim belt and ankle-length flat-heeled boots. Additionally, she is displaying the badge in a badge holder necklace.
Detective in LCPDAlisha Wilde (28)
"Hey, Sarah!" Alisha waved teasingly, getting the PI's attention. "Don't you have a license for that, ma'am?"
"Tsk. Oh, Ha. Ha. Very funny," Sarah retorted casually, a knowing smirk on her face.
"You know I can't resist giving you a hard time," Alisha replied with a grin, leaning casually against a nearby car. "So, what's the plan? Are you going solo on this one, or do you need a partner in crime?"
Sarah chuckled, adjusting her sunglasses. "I could use some backup, especially if it means getting under the chief's skin together. You in?"
"Heh. Sarah, get in my car," Alisha commanded half-heartedly while patting the roof of her grey 2020 Ford Fusion, to which Sarah jokingly held her hands up.
"Your orders, officer," Sarah retorted jokingly.
Alisha drives through the streets with relative ease, skillfully navigating the morning traffic.
"So I take it that you heard the news earlier today," Alisha asked Sarah while keeping her attention on the road.
Sarah sighed, leaning on the armrest in the passenger seat. She glanced out the window, her expression showing sadness and anger.
"Yeah," Sarah replied, a slight sharp edge in her tone. "Nineteen-years-old. Hmph. That's the fifth one this month. I don't know if it's a violent gang or a depraved sonofabitch, but whoever is killing these people, I'll be damn sure to hunt them down."
Alisha nodded, her grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly. "It's been rough, Sarah. Every time we think we're getting closer, another one happens, and it's like we're back to square one," she admitted, frustration evident in her voice. "We need to catch a break soon, or this city will never feel safe again."
"We? Alisha, you know I'm not part of the force anymore, right?" Sarah said, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.
"Yes, I know, but..." Alisha sighed before continuing. "Badge or no badge, you still fight for the law, Sarah, and that counts."
"Yeah? Tell that to Wallace," Sarah sneered, making her ire towards her former boss known. "I bet he's too busy stuffing his face with his mistress's pussy than giving the victims condolences!"
Alisha winced at Sarah's harsh words, a mixture of surprise and amusement playing across her features. "Wow, tell us how you really feel," she quipped, trying to lighten the mood. "But seriously, Wallace has his shortcomings, no doubt, but we can't let that distract us from what matters."
"I know, I know," Sarah sighed as she knew that they were a mile away from the police station.
"Look, Sarah," Alisha said, wanting to lay out some rules for her best friend. "When we get there, please, don't pick a fight with Wallace. I still need my job."
"Don't you have your podcast about the supernatural or some shit? What's the name? Wilde Mysteries?" Sarah asked, a slight teasing in her question.
"Wilde Truths," Alisha corrected. "Besides, some of those supernatural cases aren't purely fiction."
Sarah rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Come on, Alisha, you don't really believe in ghosts and goblins, do you?" she teased, shaking her head. "I prefer dealing with the real monsters out here—the ones who don't hide under beds."
As they stopped at the red light, Alisha looked at her and shrugged, "Maybe, but the neck bites on the victims are similar to those of a vampire. My opinion, of course."
Laughing jokingly, Sarah yelled, "Oh no! A vampire! I'd better get some garlic and stakes to make sure I don't get eaten by the big bad bloodsucker."
"Very funny," Alisha replied with a playful glint in her eyes. "But don't say I didn't warn you when something goes bump in the night." Sarah chuckled, shaking her head as the light turned green and they continued their drive towards the station, both knowing they had a long day ahead of them.
When they finally pulled into the parking lot, the looming facade of the police station seemed to cast a shadow over their earlier banter. Sarah took a deep breath, bracing herself for the inevitable confrontation with Wallace. Alisha, on the other hand, focused on maintaining her composure, ready to navigate the delicate balance between professionalism and friendship as they walked through the station's doors. Once inside, Sarah felt a pang of nostalgia as the former officers she worked with greeted her as if she had never left.
"Heh. I missed the smell of coffee and the bad decisions from criminals," Sarah quipped, taking in the familiar surroundings.
Alisha gently elbows Sarah before saying, "Come on. Let's meet with Deborah."
At the reception counter is a stout woman in her fifties, with medium-brown hair tied in a bun, some gray strands visible. She wears a dark blue cotton-polyester shirt with a badge tacked on, brown pants, white sneakers, and circular rimmed glass over her plain brown eyes.
"Hey, Deb," Sarah and Alisha greeted her, causing Deborah to look up and smile warmly.
"Oh, Sarah, so good to see you again. How's being a private eye treating you?" Deborah asked in a courteous and maternal tone.
Sarah grinned, a hint of pride in her voice. "It's been an adventure, Deb. Every day is different, and I get to solve mysteries in my own way." Her eyes sparkled with confidence as she added, "But I have to admit, I sometimes miss the camaraderie here."
Alisha stepped in and asked her co-worker, "Deborah, can you give Sarah a pass so she can come with me to the coroner's office to see Paul Winston's body?"
Deborah's warm expression takes on a look of apprehension as she replies, "I don't know. I'm not supposed to allow a citizen to enter the coroner's beyond viewing through the glass."
Alisha furrowed her brow and leaned in slightly, her voice calm but insistent. "I understand the rules, Deb, but Sarah's expertise could really help us with this case." She offered a reassuring smile, hoping to convey the importance of their request without overstepping her boundaries. "Besides, I took your request to talk about Huggin' Molly on my podcast. You owe me one."
Deborah laughs at the irony she brought on herself, "I guess I can't argue with that, can I?" After that, she uses the computer to send a message to the coroner. "Alright, but that's it from me, ya hear?"
"Thanks, Deb," Sarah answers thoughtfully as she and Alisha begin walking, heading for the coroner.
After a long path and taking a left, they've arrived at the coroner's door. As Alisha approaches the doorway, the door opens inward, and three individuals walk out.
The first is an older gentleman in his mid-fifties with an impressive physique for someone of his age. He has silver, greying, shoulder-length hair with a shade of snow-white on the side, with a widow's peak, and his hair is tied into a low, thin ponytail at the nape of the neck. A scar runs across the bridge of his nose, with heavy bags under his green forest eyes, showing a burden that is beyond what an average man can fathom. His beard is well-trimmed with the same silver-grey hue, with a patch of white on the chin of the beard. In addition to his pristine black suit, he also wears silver cufflinks on the sleeves, a white tie with a shield chrome badge clip of a snarling wolf with O.C.D.A. initials at the front, black formal dress shoes, and a long leather pea coat.
Senior O.C.D.A OperativeCallum Ross (54)
Following him are two associates wearing the same suit as Callum. One is a young, stunning yet professional Hispanic woman with a lean yet athletic build, brunette bobcut hair, light blue eyes, and a dark yellow tie. The other is a young man with short, wavy blonde hair cut above the neckline, hazel brown eyes, and wearing leather gloves on his hands.
Junior O.C.D.A. OperativesMaria Torres (22)Andrew Larson (20)
As the trio strolled by, impeccably dressed in tailored suits that seemed to dance with confidence, Sarah raised an intrigued eyebrow.
"Hey!" Sarah shouted, her voice cutting through the tension as she locked eyes with the group. "Who are you all? Are you with the FBI or some other secret agency?"
Maria fixed her gaze on Sarah, her voice harsh and unwavering. "That information is classified," she declared.
Callum gave a reprimanding glance at his associate and, turning to Sarah and Alisha, gave a curt nod. "Forgive her, ladies, she tends to be very rigid. My name is Callum Ross. The two under my wing are Maria Torres and Andrew Larson. We are from an organization that deals with...particular threats normal law enforcement are ill-prepared for." Callum explained, while Maria crossed her arms and grimaced, and Andrew gave a subtle smile and a wave to the women.
Sarah's curiosity only deepened, her eyes widening with intrigue as she processed Callum's vague explanation. "Particular threats?" she echoed, her voice laced with both skepticism and fascination. "What kind of threats are we talking about here?"
"I'm sorry, but that is classified, ma'am," Callum responded respectfully. "Now, if you excuse us, we must take our leave. Have a wonderful day, ladies." He then motions for Maria and Paul to follow him as they walk off.
"Alisha? What was that?" Sarah asked Alisha, who was equally as perplexed by the interaction with Callum and his associate.
"I don't know, but anyway, let's go inside. Come on, Sarah," Alisha beckoned Sarah as they entered the coroner's office to see the body of Paul.
Meanwhile, outside the police station, as Callum, Maria, and Andrew exited the department, Callum turned to Maria with a look that a parent gives to a child who misbehaves. "Maria, I know you wanted to keep our organization a secret, but you can't talk to citizens abrasively. Our job is to protect them, not chastise."
"I understand, sir," Maria said, her voice tinged with exasperation as she let out a frustrated sigh. "But it's just not right to expect something from them that they can't grasp. I can't bear the thought of them getting hurt or standing in the way of our mission."
"I understand," Callum replied, placing a firm yet understanding hand on Maria's shoulder. "It is our job to keep the supernatural away from humanity. But remember, we are their protectors." Then Callum points to the badge on his tie. "That's why this exists."
"Still," Andrew spoke up, catching his partners' attention. "With the injuries shown to us and the surgical nature of it, are we...dealing with a vampire?"
Callum replied, "I have no doubt about it. As per reports, there are several hidden within this city's shadows and cracks."
"So what do we do, sir?" Maria asked. "Should we have a strike patrol around Langwell?"
Callum ponders as he watches the denizens of Langwell City going about their lives, not knowing what the darkness hides among them. Callum felt empathy for them, knowing that the supernatural would be disastrous for society.
"Not yet," Callum said, turning back to his subordinates. "Wait until nightfall. Maria, inform Commander Jones to keep her men hidden from the public until the streets are empty. Andrew, make sure our Banes are ready. I want to make sure no citizen gets caught in the middle of our work. Are we clear?"
Maria and Andrew straightened up, their expressions resolute as they responded in unison, "Yes, sir!" Callum nodded in approval, appreciating their dedication to the mission. "Good," he said, glancing at the darkening sky. "Let's prepare for what's to come tonight."
NoonWillie's Diner
The diner was bustling with the lively chatter of customers and the clinking of cutlery against plates. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling burgers filled the air as servers hurried between tables, balancing trays laden with food. Sarah is currently indulging in a BLT sandwich with golden crisp steak fries and a bottle of ice-cold beer beside the plate. All the while, Alisha sips gingerly from a mug of coffee while looking at the photos of Paul she took from the coroner's office.
"Damn, the extent of his injuries is much worse than what the news said," Alisha mutters as her eyes are glued to the image of Reilly's ribcage concaved inward, sending a shiver down her spine.
"I don't blame you, Alisha. But, something is bothering me," Sarah said while dipping a steak fry into a small cup of ketchup. "Didn't Paul have CTT cameras in the back alley behind his bar?"
"Yes, but when I interviewed him, and he showed me the film, it showed Reilly Haas running at the dead end and suddenly went static," Alisha explained, taking another sip of her coffee.
"I see," Sarah leaned back as she ate the fry and smirked, "Guess it's my turn to investigate." She wiped her hands on a napkin and leaned closer to Alisha, lowering her voice. "I'll head over there tonight and see if I can find anything unusual. Maybe there's something the cameras didn't catch, or someone who knows more than they're letting on."
"Sarah, are you sure? With the killer striking at night, I could come as backup if you want. Plus, you know you can't go to the scene of the crime due to not being a cop, right?"
"Yeah, but I'm PI, remember? I can't help but snoop around," Sarah gave a cheeky grin, but was met with a concerned look on her best friend's face. "Alisha, I'll be okay. I'll go to the crime scene, scout out any evidence, and if there is, bring it to you. As for the killer, I'll bring my pistol just in case, alright?"
Alisha sighed, still looking worried but knowing she couldn't change Sarah's mind. "Just be careful, okay? I don't want to have to investigate your case next," she said with a weak smile. "And make sure you call me if anything seems off, promise?" Sarah offered her fist, her expression serious but reassuring. "Promise," she said sincerely, locking eyes with Alisha. They bumped fists, sealing the pact between them as Alisha nodded, hoping for Sarah's safe return.
Midnight
The alley was shrouded in an eerie silence, broken only by the distant hum of traffic. The dim glow of the streetlights cast long, unsettling shadows across the scene, and the faint scent of damp concrete lingered in the air. Sarah's footsteps echoed as she moved cautiously, her senses heightened to any signs of movement or hidden clues that might have been overlooked. She has a flashlight in her hand, and on her hip is a holstered .45 ACP Glock to her side.
"Alright, let's see what LCPD missed." With a furrowed brow, Sarah whispers to herself, pushing aside the caution tape that flutters in the breeze. Her heart races as she approaches a battered metal dumpster, its surface marred by deep dents and streaked with a dry, crimson smear. Then, she took some of the shards from the light bulbs of the street lamps on the ground. Sarah knelt down and pulled out a pair of tweezers to pick up one of the pieces.
"It looks like the bulbs exploded, but I don't see any signs of overheating or oil residue." Sarah carefully analyzes the bulb, considering taking it to Alisha the next day. Her breath catches as she notices the faint glimmer of red beneath the dumpster. She crouches lower, her flashlight beam dancing over a small, metallic object—a golden ring encrusted with a single red gemstone with the engraved in the form of a skull with fangs and a spiked crown on its head. "This might be a clue," Sarah murmurs, slipping it into a plastic evidence bag. With a newfound sense of urgency, she scans the area for any other hidden surprises that might tie this piece of jewelry to the crime.
As she gets up to inspect for any more clues, she sees a shadow moving across the ground. Her heart racing as she suddenly caught sight of fifteen shadowy figures darting between the buildings above her, their movements swift and mysterious.
With a gasp of disbelief, Sarah shouted, "What the hell!" as she bolted from the shadows of the alley. Her heart raced as she darted toward her motorcycle, which gleamed under the streetlights just a few paces away on the sidewalk.
Bounding across the rooftops in a blur of motion is a young man of Egyptian descent with short, wavy platinum blonde hair, bright yellow eyes, and a well-trimmed goatee fade. All the while, wearing a half-buttoned beige linen shirt with his sleeves rolled up, dark blue chinos pants, and worn black tennis shoes.
With a surge of adrenaline, he vaults towards the next building, but suddenly, a gruesome tendril of blood lashes out, ensnaring his ankle. Before he can react, he's yanked off course and hurled onto another rooftop, crashing hard against a commercial roof ventilator with a bone-jarring impact.
"D-damn it!" The man let out a raspy cough as he struggled to pull himself free from the twisted wreckage of the vent, dust swirling around him like a shroud. As he does so, fourteen men in well-tailored black suits land in front of him with their fangs bared in malicious snarls.
"Well, now. You've been awfully slippery to evade us, Amir of the Dawnstriders," landed in front of the men, is a woman with long jet black hair, sapphire blue eyes, lush red lips, and wearing a black and grey catsuit, with her blood swirling around her right hand. She paces, or rather, struts back and forth with a condescending smirk on her face. "To think your house would've been wise to hide you in somewhere more discreet, but a university? Oh, how the mighty have fallen for your people," The woman taunted with her grin widened, her elegant, sharp fangs on full display.
"Heh, may not have been...my best idea, I'll admit." Amir chuckled to himself. "But I find it funny that a minor house of the Scions of Tepes would be merely hunting a mere scribe. Desperate for approval much?"
The woman's eyes narrowed, her pride visibly pricked by Amir's taunt. "Careful, Amir," she hissed, her voice laced with venom. "Mockery won't save you when the Scions of Tepes have orders to bring you in, and I assure you, we won't take no for an answer. Or...maybe you want to end up like your vassel. His blood was delightful; fear tends to make it pleasurable."
Amir glowers at the cruel statement made by the woman, bearing his own fangs. "You'll pay for what you did to him. Paul, as foolish as he was, I'm proud to call him a friend. Know this: you can't stop us. We will fulfill the prophecy, and the Matriarch of Blood will return and bring retribution for straying from our path! Now, come forth, Menat!" As Amir declares this, blood flows from his hands, morphing into crimson and golden khopeshes while his chest glows with a golden yellow hue.
The woman let out a long sigh in irritation, glowering at the Dawnstrider, "You and the rest of your dying bloodline can't help but cling to old myths. The queen is dead, and soon, the House of Tepes will rule with impunity! Devour, Caarn!" When she speaks the name, blood flows from the palm of her hand, taking the form of a massive glaive with veins crawling across the gigantic, red blade. "Seize him!"
In a flurry of motion, one of the men lunges at Amir, his speed defying human perception as he conjures a blood-forged blade, aiming to strike down the Dawnstrider. But in a moment of electrifying clarity, a gunshot rings out, and his head erupts in a dazzling inferno of blue flames, illuminating the chaos around them.
"What the-?!" Before the woman could track who fired the shot, the rooftop entrance door swung open, and emerging from it were Callum and Maria with silver briefcases in their hands.
"Good shot, Andrew. Your sniper training has gotten better. Keep it up," Callum complimented, pressing his earpiece, and Andrew replied with an earnest, "Thank you, sir."
"Fantastic. Now the O.C.D.A. is a thorn in my side," she seethed, her gaze fixated on the remnants of her fallen subordinate turning to ash. "Humans really ought to understand their position in the grand hierarchy of survival."
'Damn it, not the hunters. I can't take both sides at once,' Amir's thought raced in a panic as he realized he was caught between two forces that guaranteed death.
Callum snorts dismissively as he presses the button on the handle of the briefcase. "You think I care what a leech like you has to say. Your kind have been a plague in this city, and I think it's the perfect night to kill two birds with one stone." Callum stated coldly as the opens the case and brandished a steel handle with a black leather grip and a spiked crossguard. With a slight twist of the grips, ultraviolet blue light rushes out, forming a broadsword blade, radiating intense heat. "Maria, prepare your Bane now!" Callum commanded, tossing his case to the side, shifting his feet into a combat stance.
Maria nods as she opens her briefcase and pulls out a pair of glowing tonfas that emit ultraviolet light. She adapted a Muay Thai stance, ready to send the bloodsuckers back to hell where they belonged.
The woman sneers at this indignation and commands her men, "Enough of this! Men, watch out for the sniper and kill them! Leave the Dawnstrider to me." Her voice cuts through the chaos like a whip, and her eyes lock onto Amir with a predatory glint. As her minions move to engage Callum and Maria, she advances on Amir, her own aura crackling with dark energy, ready to bring Amir to the House of Tepes, dead or alive.
Callum, despite his age, rushed forth with surprising vigor as he cut down the vampiric minions with one precise strike from his sword, incinerating them from the inside. Maria, with her tonfas glowing like a beacon of destruction, moved with fluid precision, each strike calculated to exploit the vampires' vulnerabilities. She focused on their pressure points, swift jabs breaking bones and incapacitating them before the ultraviolet light seared their flesh. All the while, from several meters away, on the rooftop of a different apartment complex, Andrew, wielding a white and silver rifle, was firing upon the fiends with UV bullets, piercing their skulls with unmatched accuracy.
Amir and the woman circled each other, their bloodforged weapons humming with malevolent energy. Amir's dark crimson blade clashed with her scarlet glaive, sending sparks flying into the night. Each strike was met with a deft parry, their movements a deadly dance as they fought for dominance amidst the chaos surrounding them.
Meanwhile, Sarah rides through the streets of Langwell on her motorcycle, trying to call Alisha on her phone as she watches above, when she suddenly hears gunfire.
"Come on, Alisha!" Sarah hissed urgently as she headed closer to the battle. Instead of being greeted by her friend's voice, she meets with Alisha's voicemail. "This is Alisha Wilde of the Wilde Truths Podcast! I can't reach you at the moment, but leave a message after-" Sarah groans as she hangs up and stops nearby the building where the battle is raging on.
On the rooftop, the woman skillfully blocks the Amir's downward strikes from his dual khopeshes.
"Pathetic! Your blood is hardly worth standing against me, bloodling! But my Curio will gladly devour you whole." As she said this, the glaive expands and morphs into a massive jaw of razor-sharp fangs, threatening to chomp down on the Dawnstrider. Amir barely managed to leap back just in time, the monstrous jaws snapping shut mere inches from his face. He landed in a crouch, eyes locked on his opponent as he tried to catch his breath. "You'll have to do better than that," he taunted, raising his blades in preparation for the next round of their deadly duel.
Just as Amir prepares to unleash another blow, Callum darts in, intercepting the attack with a fierce parry that connects sharply with Amir's arm. A hiss escapes his lips as the searing heat of the UV sword scorches his flesh, leaving him momentarily stunned.
"Hmmm, I see. You're one of those vamps who are resilient to sunlight. Regardless, it'll end the same for you." Callum declared harshly as he swung a wide arc of his bane at Amir.
With a grimace, Amir gritted his teeth and pushed past the pain, his eyes narrowing in determination. He swiftly twisted his body, using the momentum to deflect Callum's blade with one of his khopeshes. "I've faced worse than you," Amir retorted, his voice steady as he prepared to counterattack with renewed vigor. "Why can't you see that my people aren't your enemy? The Dawnstriders have no quarrel with you."
Callum let out an exasperated huff as he deftly deflected the woman's surprise attack from behind. "Anyone—or anything—that drinks blood to quench its thirst is my enemy," he spat, his voice laced with intensity. "You and your kind are nothing more than a mistake waiting to be erased, and I will take great pleasure in doing just that."
The three combatants moved in a deadly dance, each strike and parry echoing with the sound of clashing steel. Callum, fueled by a fierce determination, pressed forward, his UV sword blazing with intensity as he targeted both Amir and the mysterious woman. Amir, caught between his two adversaries, moved with fluid precision, his dual khopeshes a whirlwind of lethal arcs as he defended against their relentless assault. The woman, her eyes gleaming with malice, wielded her Curio with terrifying skill, its monstrous jaws snapping at her foes with vicious intent.
While the three clash against each other, as well as Maria and Andrew putting down one vampire after another, Sarah climbs up the scaffolding on the side of the building to reach the rooftop. Each rung of the scaffolding brought Sarah closer to the rooftop, and the chaos below seemed to fade into a distant roar.
Meanwhile, Amir leaps into the air as he unleashes a torrent of crimson blood slashes at the woman, and she responds by swinging Caarn with a destructive arc to obliterate the projectile in a single stroke. However, it proved to be a distraction as Amir reappeared behind the House of Tepes's assassin, ready to drive his blades into her blade.
"Heh, clever, bloodling. However..." The woman smiled wickedly as the end of her glaive morphed into a long, jagged spike and drove it into Amir's stomach. "You are still out of your depth."
Amir coughs up a pool of blood as the woman then twists and pulls out of the spike, ripping a chunk of flesh and insides out. Before she could bring him to a swift end, Callum landed a slash across the face of the vampire, searing the side of the face with her eyes, and the vampire's cheek was severely gashed.
The vampire let out a feral scream, her eye blazing with fury as she staggered back, clutching the wound in her wounded side of her face. Her rage seemed to fuel her strength, and she lashed out with renewed ferocity, swinging her glaive with reckless abandon. "You...wretched mortal!" she hissed, her voice dripping with venom as she prepared to retaliate against the older hunter.
As Callum battles against the vampire, Sarah manages to climb up to the roof, pulling herself into the fray. As she got to her feet, her eyes widened with sheer disbelief as she witnessed Maria decapitating two of the remaining minions with the illuminating shaft of her tonfas, their bodies incinerated into ash.
"W-What the hell is going on here?!" Sarah demanded as she pulled out her pistol, her mind frantic on who to point her gun towards.
Maria spun around to face Sarah, her frustration boiling over. Maria shouted, her voice carrying weight. "You again?! Get out of here now!" She gestured toward the edge of the rooftop, trying to signal Sarah to retreat. "If you don't, you'll get yourself killed!"
As Callum glances at Maria and Sarah, the woman, seeing her minions all but dust and knowing that if they stay any longer, she'll be killed, seizes the opportunity. "You humans and your morality are so sickening," the vampire hissed as she conjured a javelin made of hardened blood. "Tell me, hunter. Can you save your comrade while killing me?!" The vampire yelled in sadistic glee as she hurled the bloody javelin straight towards the preoccupied Maria.
"Maria!" Callum yelled desperately as the javelin inched closer to Maria, and she turned around to see the projectile coming closer to seal her fate. "Get out of the way!" Sarah yelled as she pushed Maria out of the path of the javelin and...
Splutch!
She gasped in shock, her hands instinctively reaching for the wound as her knees buckled beneath her. The world seemed to slow around her, her vision blurring as the pain radiated through her body. Sarah's eyes fluttered as she fell off the building, sending Callum into an incandescent fury upon failing to save a citizen from these, these parasites!
"Monster!" Callum roared, swung down his bane, only to leap away from a great distance.
"You'll never defeat me, hunter! Next time, your blood will drench my lips!" Her laugh echoed through the night as she vanished into the shadows, leaving Callum seething with rage. He clenched his fists, vowing silently to track her and her kind down till his last breath.
Callum sighs as he looks to Maria and orders, "Maria, let's head back down to ground level and find that woman's body so we can-" before he finishes, Maria, who's already looking down at the rooftop to see where Sarah's body could be, replies with a slight alarm. "Sir, look!"
Callum rushed to Maria's side, peering over the edge to see what had caught her attention. There, below, stood Amir, cradling Sarah's limp form in his arms, his own wound still fresh and bleeding. Without a word, Amir glanced up at them before vanishing into the night with supernatural speed, leaving Callum and Maria stunned on the rooftop.
"Damn it! He must've spilled into the alleys while we were dealing with the others," Callum pressed his earpiece. "This is special operative Callum Ross of the Grey Hunt Division. Any O.C.D.A personal, mobilize immediately. We have a Sunwalker on the loose. I repeat, we have a Sunwalker on the loose!"
Meanwhile, Amir moved like a blur across Langwell City, using every bit of his vampiric strength to get away from the O.C.D.A. and any more of the House of Tepes. All the while, as he looked at the dying woman in his arms, he asked himself why he saved her when she was falling. He barely knew this mortal, and yet, he felt a pull from something that wasn't his own will to save Sarah.
After a while, he stops near the back of a closed burger joint, gently setting Sarah down as she coughs blood from her mouth while the wound, her crimson javelin, oozes blood by the minute.
"I...I don't want...to die," Sarah gasped as she watched the starless night sky begin to blur. Amir, the glow from his chest fading and his skin slowly flaking into ash, realized that there was one last thing he must do before nothingness claims him.
"Forgive me, but... my time is slipping away," he gasped, urgency lacing his voice. "Please... for all the Vryloka, you must find our mother..." With those final, desperate words, he sank his fangs deep into Sarah's neck, sealing his fate and entwining their destinies in an unforeseen way.
Her body convulsed as if an electric current surged through every vein, igniting a fire that spread with each heartbeat. The pain was excruciating, yet intertwined with it was a strange sense of power and awakening, as if she was being reborn amidst the agony. Her scream pierced the silent night, echoing through the deserted alley, heralding the beginning of a transformation she never sought but could no longer escape.
As Amir's body faded into ash, his glazed eyes widened slightly as he watched in disbelief from inside Sarah's chest, where her heart began to harden and crystallize, instead of the bright red of any other newly born vryloka or the golden yellow of the Dawnstriders. Her heart formed a pure silverish hue.
"Heh, look at...that. The prophecy is true after all... The one to herald the Matriarch's return..."
"The...Silverbane..." Amir uttered as his form dissolved into ashes. At the same time, Sarah screamed as her chest was alight with a silver-grey glow as the events of the prophecy were set into motion.
As one life ended, another was reborn into a destiny beyond her comprehension.
Next chapter: Same World, New Blood