Lyle's expression remained calm as he twisted the daggers deeper into Seraphar's chest. The ancient vampire's face contorted with pain and rage, but his movements slowed, his strength waning under Lyle's relentless assault.
"You..." Seraphar choked, blood dripping from his mouth. "You can't... do this..."
"I can," Lyle said firmly, his voice carrying the weight of his determination. "And I will."
With a swift motion, Lyle pulled the daggers out and stepped back, allowing Seraphar to stagger forward. The Nosferatu fell to his knees, his body trembling as he struggled to rise.
"You... will never... understand..." Seraphar gasped, his eyes filled with desperation. "The power... the hunger..."
Lyle's eyes softened for a brief moment, acknowledging the truth in Seraphar's words. He understood the eternal struggle of their kind, the constant battle against their darker urges, after all, he had fought against the same urges in the past as well.
