The glow of the full moon provides light for the hunt…

With most of the escapees from La Ferme rounded up, all that are left are the particularly crafty and deadly.

At last Stellan, once feared amongst the denizens of the night, has tracked down his prey. Inside an old steel mill one of the most dangerous creatures lies in wait. A vampire, feared amongst all who stalk the night. But Stellan was chosen for a reason. This was not the first time he hunted one of these deadly predators.

With nowhere to run, conflict is inevitable.

But who’s stuck in there with who? The hunter or the beast?

‍ Stellan walked down the mostly empty streets of Highview Industrial Park, just outside of the main bustle of the city, donned in a light jacket that trailed down past his waist and an old ballcap pulled low. He wandered past steel works, chemical plants, and a number of machine factories before he finally came upon the old, rusted goliath of steel walls, pipes, and what he guessed had been some sort of silo, that presumably hadn’t run for at least the last few decades. One look at the abandoned building and he could see why there were all kinds of salacious rumors about death and dark dealings taking place there, dating back to before it had been abandoned. His prey, if it really was here, was no doubt hiding under the cover of those old rumors, but they’d failed to keep a low profile and rumors of people going missing were spreading quickly, both online and throughout the town.

When he was a little less than fifty yards away, Stellan came to a stop and closed his eyes as he lifted his face to the night sky. Shutting away his other senses, he breathed deeply through his nose, filling his lungs with the crisp night air. It didn’t take long for him to pick out the scent he was looking for amongst the myriads of smells that were present.

‘Well, even if it isn’t the one I’m looking for, there’s certainly one of them in there. No doubt about that.’ He turned his focus to his hearing and listened for any sounds that might indicate people were inside. He thought he might have heard movement, but it was there and gone, so he couldn’t be sure. ‘Seems like they know I’m here.’

‍Stellan opened his eyes and was greeted by an almost full moon peeking through the clouds. For a moment, he looked upon the gallant orb and its haunting glow with the same wonder and reverence that he once had, before House Auguste got their hands on him.

“Lady Tae’Lucia… I pray that you still look upon me fondly, and that your grace is with me tonight.”

Many thoughts filled his mind, remnants of what he once was plaguing his resolve.

In that moment, he felt incredibly tired. Not physically, he wasn’t sure he was capable of feeling tired in that way anymore, but a lifetime of pain and woes seemed to press down on him and all he wanted to do was close his eyes and make it go away. He allowed himself only a moment to dwell in self-pity before he turned his focus back on the task at hand, pushing aside everything else into a cold recess of his mind that had become increasingly cramped over the last few years. ‍

Before he arrived, his plan was to find a way to sneak in but, after carefully canvassing the building, Stellan found nowhere to enter the large complex without making a racket. Besides a single door, all other routes of entry were boarded over or otherwise blocked off, so he opted for the front door. After checking the two knives at his waist, the pistol in his shoulder holster, and the sawn-off strapped to his back, under the jacket, he made his way across the empty lot with a casual saunter, eyes and ears peeled: taking in and assessing the shifting shades of the night that were looking to confuse him. He found the door unlocked, which opened with a wail that could wake the dead. ‍

‘Well, if they didn’t know I was here before, they certainly do now.’ ‍

To his surprise, the building wasn’t as empty as he’d been expecting. While some of the machinery had been moved, with only pipes and wires to mark where they once were, many had likely been too cumbersome to try to move or sell, so several machines, some the size of RVs and small garages, remained. Now that he was inside, he could hear a mix of breathing and heartbeats that let him know that more than just his prey was somewhere amongst the rusted steel and concrete. A dozen feet in, he spotted something lurking in the darkness, behind what appeared to be an industrial press, clearly waiting to spring once he got closer. ‍

“I see you lurkin’ over there. Why don’t you come out and say hello?” ‍

With his attention on the poorly hidden person, Stellan only heard his assailant come charging at him with enough time to brace himself for the collision. He was tackled to the ground from behind and the two of them went rolling across the dust-covered floor. The creature, who had once been human, ended up on top and began furiously trying to scratch and tear away flesh with elongated fingers that ended in large, blackened nails, which were nearly as tough as the steel that had once been processed there. It roared through a mouth full of pointed, deadly sharp teeth and looked down upon him through darkened eyes that appeared sunken in because of the way the transformation elongated its face and warped its features. Stellan managed to shift his weight enough to get his legs under the creature and sent it arcing through the air, into the remains of an old conveyor. He started to stand but the first person he’d spotted, another ghoul, came racing around the massive press. Stellan kept low and waited for it to get close, before launching himself forward and tackling the charging ghoul, putting all the force he could into his shoulder and driving the creature into the ground like a souped-up linebacker. ‍

He got on top and pinned the snarling creature with a knee to its chest, before grabbing it by the wrists and pulling on its arms with all his strength. The sound of ripping muscles filled the old factory louder than the ghoul’s snarls, which quickly turned into screams of pain that were soon chorused with screams of anger from the other ghoul. With the other ghoul back on its feet, Stellan forced the one at hand into a sitting position and bashed his head into the ghoul’s face, breaking its nose and adding a nasally rasp to its pain cry. He then stood and tossed the ghoul at hand at the one charging him, who savagely swatted it aside. Stellan drew one of the knives on his belt, a large hunting knife, and ducked the creature’s first attempt to swipe at him wildly and caught its wrist the second time, pulling it close so he could bury the knife in the ghoul’s throat. Cold blood soaked his jacket’s sleeve and the creature’s dirty shirt, but still the ghoul continued to scream and tried to gouge his flesh, but it quickly found out that Stellan wasn’t as easy to cut into as the other things it had preyed upon. Stellan took out the second blade, a razor-sharp flensing knife, and jammed it deep into the ghoul’s eye. ‍

The other ghoul came charging again, one arm hanging limply. Stellan kept his back to it and waited for it to get close enough to take a swipe at him before he moved. It tried raking its clawed hand down Stellan’s back, but Stellan pivoted at the last moment, and the one-eyed, the other ghoul took the furious swipe. Stellan then took a step back and kicked the ghoul with the limp arm with enough force to send it, and the other ghoul, tumbling across the floor. Sparing a second to look around and make sure nothing else was out there lying in wait, Stellan charged the ghouls before they had the chance to recover. He planted himself between the two creatures and began a savage fury of stabs and slices, alternating between the two to keep either from getting any leverage or making any real moves. The ghouls howled in pain as they were slowly flayed. Their bodies becoming a near-uniform dark stain. ‍

‘Damn it. Faster and stronger my ass. If I still had my old body this wouldn’t be a problem. He just wanted someone he could control.’ ‍

Stellan had always been strong and had keen instincts for fighting. In a life that never was he thought he might have gone on to be a professional boxer, at the time when the sport was just emerging from the underground, in the late 19th century. But instead, he met Lady Tae’Lucia and his fate was forever changed. He’d become an even stronger fighter, with the instincts of a true beast. She turned him into a hunter of monsters, but then those monsters turned him into something else entirely. ‍

Both creatures were starting to slow down but Stellan knew there was only one way to end this, unless their master gave them the order to flee, and he didn’t see that happening.‍ ‍

He singled out the ghoul that looked the closest to death and kicked the other in the chest with as much force as he could muster, sending it right into the rusted walls of what had once been a chemical cleaning tank. He then slipped the flensing knife back into its sheath and turned back to the other in time to catch a furious swipe, grabbing it by the wrist, and used the ghoul’s momentum as he twisted its arm back and got behind it with the hunting knife. With a grimace on his lips but a look of steady determination in his eyes, Stellan knocked the creature’s legs out from under it and wrapped an arm tightly under its jaw and started to pull, before using the knife like a saw, drawing it back and forth across the ghoul’s throat. The ghoul’s head tore from its body before he even finished sawing all the way through and its body slumped to the floor with a wet thud. ‍

With no time to rest, Stellan hurled the head at the remaining ghoul, who was starting to rise, but the creature batted it away and let out a snakelike hiss, that was low and throaty and sounded insidious as it reverberated off the old machines. The ghoul came at him, full swing and tried to use its elongated arms to its advantage, but Stellan was just as fast and precise with his hunting knife, driven by instinct, technology, and many decades of practice. The creature lost two fingers on one hand and three on the other before it could register what happened and Stellan slipped in and buried the blade in the ghoul’s throat before it could figure it out. He wanted to slip behind this one and repeat the kill, but a flailing arm caught him in the chest hard enough that it forced him to take a few steps back, leaving the hunting knife buried in the ghoul’s neck. Changing tactics, the battered creature tried to get in close, its wide mouth ready to take a bite from Stellan’s flesh, but, like he was back almost a hundred and fifty years ago, Stellan shifted his stance so he could put all his weight behind a punch that caused the ghoul’s skull to crack and its head to snap back hard enough to slap its shoulder. ‍

‘Maybe I’m stronger in some ways, but I still would have been better off before. Then again, that was probably the point all along. Couldn’t take the chance of me slipping your clutches.’ ‍

The ghoul struggled, and continued to try to stand, its head hanging at an unnatural angle. For just a second, Stellan looked upon the struggling creature with pity, remembering it had once been a person, and surely hadn’t chosen this fate. He lifted a leg and brought it down with enough force to crack the concrete beneath its shattered skull. ‍

With both ghouls dead, he took a moment to compose himself and carefully peered about the warehouse for signs of his prey or other ghouls once more, but nothing else appeared to be in that part of the warehouse. He could still hear heartbeats though, and the scent of his prey was strong enough that he didn’t think it fled. The only part of the warehouse that was closed off was a sizable corner office on the other side of the building from where he’d come in from. As far as he could tell, it was the only place where his prey could be waiting but there was enough large equipment that he couldn’t be truly sure there weren’t others lying in wait, so he approached cautiously, hunting knife clutched in a death grip. The door was locked but it didn’t take much effort to force it open. The room beyond was mostly empty, with only scant remains of the office that was, and a few accoutrements that the building’s current occupants brought along. A large bed sat on the floor in one corner, next to a leaning dresser that was likely left out in front of someone’s house, and a wooden blanket chest just large enough for a child to squeeze into. ‍

As far as as Stellan could see, there were seven people in this former office space, though he wasn’t sure if all of them were alive… or undead, in the case of three of the room’s occupants. The three people in question looked as if they’d been beaten and left where they fell after being thrown at the wall. If he turned his focus to his hearing, he could hear if their hearts were still beating, but he didn’t dare take away focus from his prey, or the young but sullen looking man, whose once nice clothes were almost as dirty and ragged as what the ghouls had worn. His prey sat there in the center of the open room, staring at him with a loose smile, sitting on a living chair. A man and woman, whose racing heartbeats could be heard with little effort, had been stripped of their clothes and were acting as the twelve-year-old vampire’s throne. The man was forced on all fours, while the woman stood in silent horror, acting as the back of the chair. ‍

“I’ll give you some credit Emil. Ain’t nobody thought you were going to be found slummin’ it in a place like this.”

The dark hair, pale-skinned boy’s smile grew slightly wider, giving a glimpse of his surprisingly normal teeth. ‍

“Yes. I’m sure they’ve been combing abandoned manors and isolated mansions looking for me. I’ve told father many times that I’m much smarter than he gives me credit for.” The boy spoke with a strange mix of precise annunciation and his father’s heavy old-French accent. It had always unnerved Stellan, and many of the others at La Ferme, especially when his sister spoke mostly like a normal child, with only occasional hints of an accent or any other affectations. ‍

“Yeah, well, you and your sister both have gotten to prove how clever you are over these last few weeks. You’ve certainly shaken things up to say the least.” ‍

“Oh? Is she still in the wind?” Emil asked, trying to hide his curiosity. ‍

“Last I heard. Though I haven’t gotten any updates since they let me out.” ‍

Something about Stellan’s choice of words tickled the young vampire and his smile grew wider once more, pulling the curtain on the deception, and revealing two sets of pointed fangs on both sides of his mouth. ‍ ‍

“I have to say, I didn’t think father was ever going to actually let you leave La Ferme.” ‍

“That just shows you how serious he took this,” Stellan said, matter-of-factly, but he thought, ‘That bastard poured too much time and money into me to keep me locked up forever. He was just waiting until he knew I couldn’t run.’ Stellan then turned to the other vampire, outwardly acknowledging him for the first time. This vampire was almost old enough to be called a man, by traditional standards, but compared to Emil, he was hardly worth noticing. A threat on par with the ghouls, but only because Stellan didn’t know what was going on in the vampire’s head. “Bryan? What are you doin’ here?” He mentally reviewed all the documents and files he’d been made to read before he was deployed. “I don’t remember seeing your name on any of the reports.” ‍

He hadn’t meant the declaration as an insult, but one look at the vampire’s narrowed eyes and thinly pulled lips told him he’d taken it as such, and whatever nerve it stuck was being poked by the snide snickering coming from Emil. ‍

“I told you they wouldn’t care if you came,” Emil said, clearly amused. Turning his attention back to Stellan, Emil gave him a look somewhere between surprise and appraisal. “I must say, I really did think that it was going to be Deqon or Vizella who finally found me.”‍ ‍

Stellan shrugged. “They were looking in the wrong part of the country. We were all given a different territory to search.”‍ ‍

“Yes, well, this would have been more fun if it was one of them. I’d love to show them what a real vampire is.”‍ ‍

“Just be happy it was one of us who found you first.” ‍

“Oh? And why is that? Did father release the Duhlatha?” Emil asked with an amused giggle, but the bravado was dampened by a clear glint of concern in his eyes. ‍

“Nah, but I’m sure that’s next. Not that he needs to bother. This stunt of yours caught everyone off-guard, even more than you probably realize. And your father panicked in response. Between the chaos you and your sister have caused and the homunculi and golems your father sent searchin’ for you, word’s gotten around that a couple of true-blooded vampires are on the loose. Right now, a fair number of people are out there looking for you, beyond those workin’ for your father mind you, and it came pretty close to me or another. And between me and him, I’m the only one who’s gonna offer you a chance to come home.” ‍

“Oh please. I don’t care what father claims, he’s as good as neutered you with all that machinery. You may still be stronger than some vampires, but not a real vampire like myself, for I have already tapped into our ancestral form and am well on my way to find my true form.” The smugness that radiated from the vampire was almost palpable and Stellan pictured himself throwing the hunting knife through his flapping gums, but he kept his hands still with sheer force of will. “And as a true vampire, I’m not worried about an abomination like you. You don’t have the strength to bring me back alive.”‍ ‍

For the first time in many years, a genuine smile touched Stellan’s lips, if just for a moment. ‍

“You seem to have misunderstood me. I’m here to offer you a chance to come back, just as Allia, or whoever finds your sister, will offer her a chance to come home but after you’ve managed to evade everyone for so long, your father finally understands there are only two outcomes. Either you come back willingly, or you come back in a box. He’s not willing to let you two vanish in the wind once you’ve been found.” ‍

The two vampires shared a long look, which may have been more than just a look, depending on their familiarity, before they turned back to Stellan and Emil said, in a contemptuous voice, “Liar! There’s no way father would give the order to kill us. At least not her.” ‍

“You certainly are considered the bigger threat, but even she was included in the orders everyone received.” Stellan looked carefully between the two vampires, gauging their reactions. While Emil still seemed to be unsure of the validity of Stellan’s claims, Bryan looked ready to bolt. “That includes anyone accompanying them. Whether by choice or not.” The vampire stiffened and looked at Emil with widening eyes.

“Master, perhaps we should consider –,” ‍

“Silence! I need to think,” Emil said, with a wave of his hand. ‍

“You know,” Stellan prodded, “if he chooses to fight, you don’t have to get involved. In order to let me and the others carry out these orders, he and his sister had to be disavowed. You don’t have to listen to him anymore.” ‍

“Enough!” ‍

“And even if you both walk away from this alive, I can promise you won’t survive an encounter with the one who’s closin’ in on you.”‍ ‍

“I said enough!”

“Why is that?” Bryan asked. ‍

“Because the person that almost beat me here is like me – like I once was.”‍ ‍

Emil suddenly stood from his living chair, making Stellan tense, and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“See! I knew you were a liar! Father told me your kind were all gone, that he helped hunt you into extinction.” There was a clear shade of desperation in the vampire’s accusation that warmed Stellan’s steely heart. ‍

“Is that so?” Stellan asked with a steadily growing grin, “Tell me, did he do so when you were cryin’ because someone told you a story of the big bad beasts that hunted vampires? Actually, it doesn’t matter. Hell, there may have even been some truth to his words when he told you. But the thing is kid, as long as Lady Tae’Lucia is out there somewhere, my kind will never truly be dead.” ‍

“B-but Lord Auguste said no one’s ever found proof she was real,” Bryan said timidly. ‍

“That’s right,” Emil chimed in, “And even if she was real once, there’s no way she’s still alive. Even we true vampires don’t live that long.” ‍

“You’ve been told what Lord Auguste and others think you need to hear so you can sleep at night, and grow up believin’ you have nothin’ to fear,” Stellan said simply. ‍

Emil started to speak and took a half step forward, rage glinting in his crimson eyes, but he appeared to compose himself and paused in his approach. ‍

“I’ve grown tired of you and your idle threats, so, let me make you a counteroffer. Turn and run with your tail between your legs or I’ll take this as my chance to truly test out my power.” ‍

Stellan ignored Emil’s offer and looked over and tried to meet eyes with Bryan, but the vampire wouldn’t meet his gaze. ‍

“This is your last chance to walk away and return to La Ferme. They wouldn’t have sent me after him if they didn’t think I had a chance, and, even if you don’t believe what’s hunting you, know that you will never not be hunted from here forward.” ‍

The cold steel and concrete room became a singularity where time moved at a fractional pace. Stellan watched the warring choices battle it out by the subtle ripples and twitches plaguing the vampire’s pale face. He saw it in the vampire’s eyes when the decision was made and knew his plan had worked. ‍

Almost. ‍

Bryan attempted to launch himself forward, away from the seething creature that had forced him to leave his relatively comfortable life, but before he could move, it was as if time resumed, but only for Emil. Instead of grabbing Bryan and sinking his teeth in, as Stellan had hoped, a ripple ran through the vampire’s arm and it looked as though his right arm transformed into a whip, which lashed out lightning quick, and tore through flesh and bones, before returning to normal. ‍

Time resumed for the rest of the room and Bryan flopped to the floor. Cold blood was quickly forming a puddle around the vampire. Whatever Emil had done had nearly torn the other vampire in two, just below the ribcage, but he wasn’t dead yet. ‍

“That was a dirty trick you tried to pull. I’ll make sure to draw out your suffering a bit longer for that.” The boy’s skin began to ripple like waves on a lake and his eyes darkened until they were almost black. ‍

Stellan drew his pistol and opened fire as he charged at the transforming vampire. The pistol had been precautionary, in case he encountered any aggressive hunters, but he hoped it would at least slow the transformation down. It was no good. Both arms became flailing whips of dense, hardened flesh, forcing Stellan to back away. ‍

Cursing, Stellan popped in a backup clip but this time he didn’t aim for Emil. He couldn’t stop what was coming but he could prevent the vampire from feeding and getting any stronger. ‍

Neither the man nor the woman who the vampire had been using as a chair had moved at all in the time he’d been there, beyond their bodies shaking from exhaustion. Even now all they did was look on with abstract horror, tears streaming down their faces. And then there was Bryan, who still lived, despite his aggressive injuries. Stellan fired in rapid succession, five calculated shots to the head of each human that was in the room, the two that made up the living chair and the three bodies strewn about, just to be safe. He then quickly unloaded the rest of the clip into the back of Bryan’s head, exposing the vampire’s bullet-riddled brain for all to see. ‍

Stellan dropped the empty gun and stared at Emil in his burgeoning true form. What he looked up at was a monstrosity that still had most of the trappings of the vampire’s ancestral form, a mirror of the creature’s they once were before they crossed the great void to get to our world, but vestiges of Emil’s personal true shape were in the mix. The beast had large bulbous eyes, and large turned up ears, that, with its thin leathery wings, forever entwined their kind with association to bats. A gray-skinned, mostly human body was attached to a bulbous waist, with four insectile legs, instead of a pair of heavyset, double jointed legs and clawed feet, that made Stellan think of a monstrous mosquito. In place of mostly human arms, Emil’s transformed state had a pair of whip-like tentacles, with a trio of similar appendages growing from its back. ‍

Stellan said a silent prayer and started to reach for the sawn-off shotgun under his coat. Despite what he’d told Bryan, he knew his chances weren’t great against a true vampire in their ancestral form, let alone one that had begun evolving to the next stage. ‍

Emil’s jaw dropped like a snake, revealing three rows of pointed teeth, and let out a hollow, high-pitched scream. ‍

Stellan grabbed the shotgun and got out of the way as the first of the heavy looking appendages whistled through the air. It struck the ground where he’d been standing with a thud and a puff of concrete. Stellan aimed for the face and fired but the vampire skittered out of the way and retaliated with a steady rhythmic assault of its whip-like limbs, that pushed him away from the only way in or out of the room. He fired two more shots while on the move, but he had precious little ammo, and he needed to get up close and in the creature’s face to have any chance of doing any serious damage. ‍

‘I need to get out of this damn room and fast.’ ‍

It was hard to get a good visual grasp on the vampire’s deadly appendages with them constantly moving but he estimated they had about an eight-to-ten-foot range, so he carefully avoided the dense and deadly whips until he saw an opening. Slowing down just enough to aim his shot, Stellan fired at the closest limb careening towards him, which burst into a spray of dark gore. He narrowly veered around the vampire, who was angered but hadn’t tempered his assault, and ran out onto the main warehouse floor. ‍

Stellan dove and got behind what had once been a massive furnace just as Emil came tearing through the office walls with an angry wail. The vampire’s sharp, pointed legs clicked distinctly against the floor and the machinery as it climbed around looking for Stellan, who used the sound to keep track of the creature as he moved. ‍

Keeping as low as he could, Stellan moved around the furnace walls until it sounded like the vampire was finally coming in his direction and waited for the creature to either climb over or skitter past him. The clicking on metal told him that Emil had climbed the furnace but as he readied his gun the clicking stopped. ‍

“Shit!” ‍

Stellan rolled and scrambled to his feet as the vampire came down at him from above, trying to use its legs as an array of spears. He half turned and fired but the bullet slammed into the creature’s chest with a puff of cold blood and little else. Weaving around the large machinery, Stellan nearly got behind the creature, but its ear twitched and the vampire turned his way fractions of a moment before one of the heavy limbs that grew from its back arced in his direction. Deciding to take the risk, Stellan avoided being flattened or launched across the warehouse with calculated precision and got close enough to put the shotgun in the vampire’s face as it fully turned towards him. Emil squealed in pain as one of its bulbous eyes was blown out the back of his head, but it wasn’t enough to put him down, and Stellan knew it. He tried to fire again but he’d gotten too close. By avoiding being speared by one of the vampire’s legs, Stellan stepped into the path of one of the its heavy tentacles instead. The force of the blow was enough to smash and flat his left against his body, and he cried out, even though he felt no pain. ‍

Racing through the air, Stellan slammed into a machine meant to bend metal bars with enough force to dent the frame. For one horrifying moment, his whole world went dark. When his vision returned, his eyes immediately went to his arm and found it hanging by threads of skin and wires. Fluids, not blood, but a chemical mix of blue and green liquids and what might be machine oil, leaked from the exposed end of both halves of his shattered arm. Beneath where his bicep had been he could see small malfunctioning pistons that continued pumping to a unit that was no longer there. ‍

Stellan knew what he was, what House Auguste made him, but it was the first time that he was seeing it. His shock nearly cost him his head. Hardened flesh tore through steel but Stellan scrambled out of the way and was back on the move.

‘I need to get in close. But how?’ ‍

All he could think to do was run. He moved this way and that, holding close to the old machinery so he always had something to duck behind. For almost two minutes Stellan narrowly avoided being ripped apart by the pursuing monster, until he noticed a small section of catwalk that hadn’t rusted and fallen to the floor. He leapt over a fifteen-foot-long flat bed of metal that sat a few feet off the ground and angled himself toward the catwalk. When he was almost underneath it, he put the shotgun back in the holster and leapt twenty feet in the air to grab onto the rusted rails of the walkway. Even before he made the leap, he knew the rusted metal wasn’t going to hold for long. ‍

He just wished it had held for longer. ‍

Metal warped and tore from its fixings and what remained of the catwalk plummeted to the ground. With great effort and calculated grace, Stellan scrambled on top of the falling scrap metal just as it crashed into Emil and knocked him to the ground. At once the vampire got to work extracting itself from underneath the broken walkway but, for just a moment, it was distracted and forgot about Stellan, who jumped onto its back and buried the hunting knife in its throat. He wrapped his legs tightly enough around the vampire’s chest that he could hear bones break and pulled the knife along the creature’s wide neck, while it tried to bite off his arm and bucked like a raging bull. ‍

One of Emil’s extra limbs wrapped around Stellan’s throat who was forced to take the hunting knife and use it to saw through hardened muscle until his face and chest were soaked in blood, and he was freed from the vampire’s crushing grip. He then stabbed Emil, twice, in the side of the head before he was dislodged, and was slammed into the rusted steel wall, which shook the warehouse. Stellan go to his feet in time to duck a tentacle, which tore a hole open to the outside, and slid underneath the creature before popping up and beginning to hack at one of the vampire’s back legs. The knife cut deep with each slash but he was forced to keep on the move. Emil’s attacks were growing more frantic and deadly but with each cut he became more off balanced. Staying close, he systematically slashed at all of its legs while avoiding the flailing limbs that couldn’t muster any real strength with him this close. After serval moments and number of near misses, he managed to cut all the way through one of the back legs, which crumpled to the floor. Emil screamed and buckled but remained upright. With a limb gone the vampire’s attacks began to slow. It wasn’t long before Stellan saw his chance to strike a killing blow and took it, leaping onto the creatures back, ready to claim its head. Problem was, Emil had been expecting just that.

Stellan was snatched out the air and repeated slammed against the ground. Still holding onto him, the vampire struck with a precise onslaught that tore flesh from metal frame and dented the workings beneath, before before hurling the hunter across the warehouse. ‍

Stellan’s whole world was spinning. He heard Emil’s massive wings unfurl as the vampire took flight, and tried to stand, but something was wrong with his right leg, and he fell back to the floor. He managed to grab the shotgun and roll over in time to watch the vampire land above him, barely able to support his own weight. ‍

In those precious few moments, the singularity returned for all but Stellan’s racing thoughts, and he realized that nothing shy of pure luck was going to save him now. He had one arm and just a few bullets remaining, but he also realized he had another option. Whether or not Emil and the rest of his kind chose to believe it, Stellan knew another one of his brothers had been born under the hallowed winter solstice. He had felt it happen. Despite all that Lord Auguste had taken from him, a part of him still remained connected to Lady Tae’Lucia. This young hunter was close. It could be a matter of minutes or hours, he wasn’t sure, but he knew then that he needed to do whatever he could to slow Emil down.

To give his brother a chance to catch up. ‍

Stellan fired the gun twice as quickly as one arm would allow and blew off one of the vampire’s front legs and crippled the other. The vampire landed on top of him, and he used the last shot to tear a hole in the side of the creature’s neck. He started to wail on the vampire with the now empty gun, but it was ripped out of his hand and hurled into the darkness. Refusing to stop while he could still move, Stellan pulled out the flensing knife and put several gashes in the vampire’s leathery wings before Emil finally had enough and tore Stellan’s other arm from his socket in a shower of sparks. With a triumphant screech, Emil lifted Stellan by the neck and brought him within a few inches of the vampire’s mutilated and blood-caked face. ‍

Stellan could feel his systems starting to fail and shut down. Still, he looked into the vampire’s remaining eye and smiled. ‍

“He’s coming for you. And he won’t fail where I have.” ‍

With one last act of defiance, Stellan kicked the vampire with enough force to crack ribs, causing it to roar with pain and indignation before it tore him in half at the waist.

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Pain…

Hunger…

Pain…

Hunger… ‍

These two sensations were all Emil knew as he crawled through one of the holes in the steel walls he’d created in his rampage. He needed to find something to feed on quickly or he’d die. The pain and hunger dulled the fear but somewhere in the back of his mind the realization of his own mortality had become a loose animal bearing down on him. ‍

Pain… ‍

Hunger… ‍

Pain… ‍

Hunger… ‍

Fear!

He looked about wildly but spotted no one. He had chosen this place, in part, because no one was around at night to get curious about the noises coming from the abandoned steel factory.‍ ‍

Pain… ‍

Hunger… ‍

Fear… ‍

Pain… ‍

Hunger…‍ ‍ ‍

The sound of a car door closing nearby drew his desperate gaze. A tall, broad-shouldered man had gotten out of a car parked across the road and was making his way towards Emil at a quick walk.‍ ‍

‘Feed! Must feed! Food! Prey! Precious prey! Must feed!’

Emil used what strength he had left and pulled himself toward the man with surprising speed. Lost in his plight, desperate to feed, he didn’t realize something was wrong until the man was only ten feet away and started to change. His skin ripping. His body growing. ‍

Too late to change his course, Emil launched himself at the man, hoping to catch him in a vulnerable state during transformation but he was batted aside like a fly. He hit the ground and started to crawl. Fear overtook all thought and emotion, even his pain and unending hunger were momentarily forgotten. All his life he was only ever taught to fear one thing. A predator, made with the express purpose of killing vampires. To him it was like a bogeyman. Something the elders talked about to scare children. ‍

Werewolves.

Only they weren’t around anymore. He had just killed the only thing that remained of them not a minute ago.

Yet here it was. There was no denying the weight on his back, pinning him to the ground. Nor the fangs that tore into his neck, spilling what remained of his cold life blood.

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——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

‍ The presence of another sparked what little life remained in Stellan. He opened his eyes to see who it was but all he could see was a mishmash of colors. But that was okay, he got a clear whiff of who knelt beside him. ‍

“It’s you. Did I stall him long enough?” ‍

The beast let out a low, non-threatening growl. ‍

Stellan smiled or at least he thought he did. “Good.” Phantom tears swelled in his eyes, and for the first time since before the madness that overtook his life, on that fateful evening outside of Eltaeshire, he felt at peace. “Be safe out there, brother. And may Lady Tae-Lucia watch over you.”

‍ ‍

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

‍ ‍

The beast slowly stood, tears running down his fur. He did not know the person who lay before him, but despite everything House Auguste had done to his body, he recognized the scent of a brother, and he let loose a mournful howl into the solemn night. Swearing revenge against those who did this.

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