.. Somewhere in the outskirts of New York City suburbs ..
Large boxes that dripped with blood dropped on the ground.
The creatures with wolf's hind legs that hefted the boxes turned to the figure behind a newspaper and bowed.
The figure was seated behind a mahogany desk as large as an idiots brain.
The other ones that were with the two bowed too.
The figure's legs were crossed and the one on the floor tapped on the ground. He didn't even notice the creatures' arrival.
Then a towering figure under black cloak emerged, making the former creatures part like the sea.
The hoodie was drawn below and a pair of sapphire glowing eyes were revealed.
The newspaper lowered at once. A head with coily jet hair was revealed. The large round spectacles on the man's face made him look like some genius scientist in his dark overcoat.
His name is The Mutilator.
"Here he is. Hellsong, how have you been?" The Mutilator sang with a flowing grin. He sprang from behind the desk and walked to the blue eyed man.
The man with sapphire eyes, Hellsong had an impassive gaze. He didn't give a smile nor a response to the greeting.
"You should loosen up, man, your harvest is here." The Mutilator swiped a hand and a woman with sinister staff stepped forward.
She swung her staff and a magic circle with thousands of red glowing runes swirling through it appeared beneath the boxes, making the creatures step away from it.
The Mutilator adjusted his spectacle and turned to Hellsong. "Tell me about your hunt. Was it stressful? Am very sure you had another wannabe to split open again."
His spectacled eyes gazed beyond Hellsong and found a pair of red glowing eyes. "Hehe, Mutan, you're looking good today."
Not even one of them replied to the spectacled man as he went on, laughing and singing all to himself.
He felt the magic fluctuation behind him stop and he stopped. The uneven breathing behind made him turn to see the witch, her face was drenched as she tried to catch her breath.
"Hehe, look at our witch, quite stressed. Perhaps she found something amusing this time." The Mutilator leant towards the witch with a grin that wasn't really a grin and she cowered. "Tell us, what do you find?"
"N, no, nothing." She trembled. "There's not one with the bloodline among these sets."
The Mutilator's grin disappeared. His head tilted to Hellsong, whose face had darkened when he heard this. " You hear that, Hellsong?"
"I do." His reply was simple. "But?"
"There's no alibi. Supply organs of the bloodline. Simple. Or, is it harder than killing a dozen emperors in one night." The Mutilator edged at Hellsong. "Common, Hellsong, you're better than this."
Hellsong gritted. "What the hell is with these bloodline organs? We used the compasses you have for us."
"Perhaps, you didn't use it well." The Mutilator flicked a device blinking a red light in his hand as he gazed beyond Hellsong. "I think you should take a break, Hellsong. Mutan should take orders this time."
"I think your witch needs a replacement too. She's proved to be useless many times." Hellsong's dark gaze found the witch and her heart thumped.
"Hehe," The Mutilator laughed, "Maybe you're right. She needs a replacement."
The witch fell on the ground, her eyes bled tears. "Please, Mutilator. I'll do anything you want."
"Oh, dear. I thought freedom is what you want too. Now you have it," The Mutilator sang with a killer's grin.
"Please!!!" The witch begged as two hefty men snatched her staff from her and dragged her off.
The Mutilator moved away from them and walked to the broken window. Glowing lights that sprawled the suburbs and the silvery rays from above reflected on his spectacles glass. "I need a good replacement for the witch."
"Yes sir." A portion of supernatural beings exited the room.
The Mutilator raised his left hand, his index finger and the middle one was pointing skyward. "Secondly, Mutan, I want a fresh and useful organ here. Time is running late."
"Will be done," with a deep growl identical to a demon's, Mutan replied and melted away.
The Mutilator looked over his shoulder and his lips parted to say something. He saw no one behind him anymore. "This blue eyed demon. Where is the real you?"
****************
…. Night Hills ….
Bang!
Trees shattered at impact. But they stop not. Swooshing outta the foliages, into the fledged shine of the moon, they advanced.
One goal in mind. To get to Sarai the witch.
Passers-by would grumbled about the gale of wind, not even knowing what caused it. Not even knowing that the creatures that's causing it, vampires, exists.
Past the busy highway, lit by countless headlights, past several neighborhoods of different caste, and finally, they arrived at the Market Street.
The Market Street bustled under the rays of the moon almost more than it did under the yellow glare of the day.
Heald supported Kylian as they went deeper into the market.
Sweats were on Kylian's face, Heald saw it and gritted. "You need to feed."
"I need to get outta here and look for the girl," Kylian said, his eyes barely holding up.
Heald shook his head. "Do you even know where she lives?"
"Yes. I do."
Soon, the shop that sold dried seafoods but is actually a witch's workshop, came into sight.
Heald sighed. Finally, here they are.
But something is not right. The counter is shredded and the door was hollowed with several claw slashes on the iron door. Seafoods were scattered across the front of the counter.
Heald gasped. "What the hell happened here?"
Kylian couldn't even talk, he was pulled into his thoughts immediately.
"Looking for someone, uh."
The duo turned back. Behold it's a young man under yellow cloak.
"What are you?" Heald growled.
"Oh no, that question again. Please ask another, I've heard that too much this days." The man waved a hand, jokingly.
This got Heald on the wrong side. His body flashed and stood before the man in a second. The man's back slammed against the hollowed door of Sarai's shop and Heald tightened his hold on his neck.
The man raised his hands in surrender as he laughed like it's nothing. "Alright, I will tell you what you need."
"Talk. What's are you?" The dark look on Heald's face deepened as he asked again.
"I'm just a mutant. Okay. The lady, she had some visitors not long ago, they made quite a party. But what happened next, I don't know. The creatures looked quite lethal."
"Uh?!"
Heald's surprised gaze turned to Kylian who was staring with his mouth ajaw. But then he shrugged with a bitter look. "That's what happens when one gets too close to me. That's what happens when one helps me. They die. They vanish. They, they, something always happens to them."
Heald released the man under cloak and faced Kylian. "It didn't happen to me so shut the fuck off."
"It's only a matter of time before it does."
Heald's jaw dropped. His mouth opened but closed. It opened again to talk but couldn't say anything.
Kylian's gaze fell on the shop. "My doom is near."
Heald moved to get closer to him, his hand outstretched to him.
But then, all of the sudden, Kylian held his head. His eyes bulged. His teeths gnashed. His veins burned. He felt a heat rushing through it, through his spine then to his brain.
Heald made to move closer but a force knocked him back and he slammed into the man in yellow, crashing them both into the shop's door.
Kylian didn't even know of what's happening on the outside anymore.
Kylian writhed on his feet then to his knee. His fists clutched his head. It felt like it's about to burst open. His veins felt like pure lava was being bubbled through it. The pain was just too much.
Yet, he saw things. He was thrust in a trance. He began to see things.
A skull appeared. A pair of batwings floated along. It became obscure in a ripple like the face of a pool for a moment. Then cleared to reveal a red glowing skull with a pair of bat wings.
Kylian's yelp rose into the sky.
Heald stared with horror. The man in the yellow cloak had a terrified look on his face. His body was visibly shaking along with his cloak.
The entire area in the Market Street became empty in a moment as people melted away from sight, both the supernatural beings and the humans.
The supernaturals feared a hunter might appear to quench this, I mean Kylian. While the humans only feared it as a sign of paranormal activity, demonic possession. Things like this do happen in Market Street sometimes and trust me, it doesn't always end well for the onlookers. So they knew better than to stay.
After an ear-shredding yelp that lasted for a few seconds, Kylian collapsed with his head arched.
Heald stood to his feet, leaving the man in yellow cloak on the ground. His eyes had panic in it as he moved closer. Words of caution relayed by the man in yellow cloak.
He is wary too, but his worry seemed t outweigh the wariness.
"Hey." He reached out to Kylian. He nudged at his shoulder.
The latter was unmoving. Heald's face turned more ugly.
But then, very slowly, Kylian's head lifted. Heald's face took on a horrified look when he saw Kylian's face.
His eyes were void black and his face was laced through with black veins that despite being small now, are growing by the second.
A tear left Kylian's face.
Heald's fearful face lost all wariness as a look of worry etched. "Hey."
"T, the girl," Kylian whispered, his voice breaking. "She's in danger too."
******************
.. Somewhere unknown ..
The fifty meters tall doors parted into a cavernous hall. Spread across a marble floor, and dimly lit.
A figure wrapped in a forest green cloak appeared and flashed across the hall at an unseen speed.
He halted before a large, throne-like chair made of dry bones.
The place was dimly lit, but the momentary flashing of figures in the shadows made it clear that there were bodies lurking in the dark.
The figure in the green cloak stopped before the bone chair. His lowered head lifted to reveal a pair of emerald glowing eyes.
"Aro." A figure deeply sank into the bone chair leaned forward a bit. The dim candlelights barely illuminated his features.
"A skull Vampire appeared," Aro nailed, completely ignoring the greeting.
Silence. Lingering silence.
Moments later, the silence broke.
"That's impossible, the Lead Skull still lays in my hand," the figure on the throne chair retorted, his guttural voice so low that it's barely heard.
Clank!
A long metallic chain dropped to the ground. The slightly red aura emanating off the chain spoke of what the chain is. It's not normal.
It belonged to a demon. To a creature that despite being a vampire, terrified other vampires.
It's been in its sleep for centuries but now it's coming alive.
A puff erupted on the stone chair and the next second, the figure appeared before Aro, towering above him easily.
"How sure are you?" The figure's deep voice asked, the dim illumination reached its face. It's a man. A Vampire. A Lord at that.
His face was as white as snow, distorted and disfigured. It's burnt but not healing. A pair of dark fangs protruded his mouth and his eyes were deep red.
"An image disappeared from my death note. Only a vampire of the skull clan could do that. The Chains of Dracula is coming alive. It means only one thing." A pause, then Aro said, "Their emergence now might not be too good, Akotal."
The Vampire Lord, Akotal, as Aro called him, seemed to be in his thoughts for a while.
"It's been over eight hundred years and now a skull appeared. I'll do just what I did in the past." Akotal lifted his disfigured face to Aro's. "It's just one skull, you should be able to handle it."
"With pleasure." Aros' lips curled under his green cloak. "But you need to heal up, you might need it."
"I've got that covered already."
"Very well then." Akotal's figure retreated back to the bone chair.
Aro vanished from the cavernous hall.
****************