Kazelle and Beckham were walking back out of the sewer, and Beckham stated, "So that's that? Just gonna leave them back there?"
"Order them to do something then. As of right now, they see you as their captain, not me. They don't know me as their king, their memories have been wiped and altered."
'That bastard Visceris..'
Kazelle continued, "But still, I can't have them dying because Raccun is a formidable opponent. And for me to not have my full power, he is on par with me."
"Relaxxx. I had them go out and scout the perimeter to make sure we weren't followed."
"..What do you know about vampires since dealing with us? Why are you dealing with us?"
"They usually avoid sunlight, have a strong aversion to garlic, and They also have a thirst for blood and are known for their immortality. Vampires possess superhuman strength, allowing them to overpower their prey. They have heightened senses, including enhanced hearing and night vision. They are incredibly fast and agile, able to move swiftly and silently. Vampires have the ability to heal rapidly from most injuries. They are known to have an insatiable craving for human blood. Vampires are vulnerable to wooden stakes through the heart and decapitation. Some can transform into mist or control animals such as bats and wolves. Vampires are often depicted as having a seductive and charismatic allure. They are immortal beings, living for centuries or even millennia. Vampires have an aversion to holy symbols such as crosses and holy water. They are unable to see their own reflection in mirrors. Vampires are often depicted as having a hypnotic gaze that can mesmerize their victims. They possess the ability to turn into mist or control the weather, particularly fog. Vampires are known for their sharp fangs, which they use to puncture the necks of their victims. They have an enhanced sense of taste, allowing them to detect the subtle flavors in blood. Vampires are often portrayed as having a heightened sense of fashion and style. They have an aversion to running water, which can weaken or trap them. Vampires are unable to enter a home without being invited by the owner. They are often associated with a nocturnal lifestyle, being most active during the night."
"You've learned much. But some of the abilities you've described depend on their bloodline."
"And I'm only helping because I wanna take down the entire New Babel Constabulary, my father always mentioned those bastards were up to no good. He knew they did shady shit behind the counter, so I wanna hop over it and beat the crap out of the one working the register."
"Rebellion against your own kind?"
"It's not as much as rebellion as it is retribution and vengeance. I know they had something to do with my fathers death, and with those red crystals popping up out of nowhere, I know something weird is going on behind that-."
"Those red crystals are the spirits of the fathers of the vampiric bloodlines which rested at the core of the Crimson Spire. Before the kingdom merged into just one rule and law, the bloodlines ruled over multiple regions and kingdoms within our realm, and when they all were dying due to an unknown cause, they requested their souls be intact with a rare gem to empower the bloodlines and the Crimson Spire."
"Unknown cause?"
"Vampires aren't known to get sick at all, due to our extreme healing factor. So when they got sick, the Sanguine Council—the Elders of the kingdom, made a way to merge all kingdoms under one rule, which did benefit everyone and caused some of the rival bloodlines to make amends."
"Haha, I knew it had something to do with you. I thought it was some form of alchemy."
"Alchemy is here?"
"Yeah, but only 4% of the world knows how to use alchemy, it's not easy. I've been to the Deputy Assistant Commissioner about those red crystals, and I've even reported to the Chief Constable about it. But they always say the same shit like, 'Don't worry about it, it's probably alchemy and a gift from god. Saying it was delivered to us for the greater good and protection of our world."
"They know something."
"Hell yeah they do."
"Now then, human. Where shall we look?"
They were out of the sewers, and the large clock tower rang, signaling it had just struck midnight.
Kazelle pulled out his guns, saying, "What Is that horrific noise?! Are you trying to betray me?!"
Beckham laughed as her cigarette fell out of her mouth, "HAHAHA! That's a bell, man. It's the clock tower, they have one in every town down here, it tells us what time it is."
"Oh, so it's not anything..with formidable power?"
"To keep time, yeah."
"BVery well. You get to live a little longer after I'm done manipulating you."
Beckham grinned sarcastically, "Oh thank you so much your majesty. Anyways, I don't know exactly where he is, but there was a newspaper article a few days ago, reporting bodies turning up down in the neighborhood of Gunvalley, homes where the rich people live."
"Why does that connect to Raccun?"
"There were witnesses, New Babel Constabulary Burnstead, a man I hate with all my heart, tried to interview them, him and an annoying guy named Ratchet, and a few other officers. A family saw it, they had lived, survived the slaughter, but they won't speak. Like they're scared as hell."
"And you think I can talk them into speaking?"
"You have the ability to see into someone's memories when you drink their blood."
"You thought ahead.."
"Indeed I did."
…
Minutes later, Calista and Darius were walking through the sewers after checking the perimeter, and Darius scoffed, "Pfft. He didn't have to slam our heads that hard. Who was that guy?"
Calista responded, "Whoever the hell he was, I'm gonna kick his ass when I see him again! How dare he embarrass me? Someone as pretty as me shouldn't even be touched by any man!"
"Okay see, I was with you at first, but now-."
Calista punched Darius in the shoulder, "Shut it!"
"You shut up!"
"But still…he said he was our king, and for some reason, I feel a sense of dejavu. Even though I've never seen him before."
"He claimed our memories were altered too, but he's probably another cult-crazed vampire like the others we've dealt with."
"Yeah, yeah that makes sense."
Darius thought, 'But he was so caught up on keeping us safe from our own group members..like he had a history with him as well. This guy…he's more than a normal vampire, I know it, and I'm gonna get to the bottom of it, because I'm badass.'
Calista punched Darius in the arm, smirking and covering her mouth, hiding her chuckle, "Are you monologuing in your thoughts again like you're the main character? Pfft. Pfft."
"Damn you! I am the main character!"
"Hey, do you think we should follow them to Gunvalley?"
"He said he'll end us if we go."
"Are we really afraid of a vampire we don't know? He caught us by surprise, that's all. If we go all out against him, we can win easily. And plus we're doing this so we can make a world where humans and vampires can live. I don't know how we were born like this, but we're pretty special, right?"
"Yeah, we are. Hell yeah we are!"
"Then we won't sit here because some old dried up ass prune told us too."
"Haha! You're right! Let's fucking go."
(Gunvalley neighborhood)
Emerging from the shadows of New Babel's underbelly, Kazelle and Superintendent Beckham transitioned into the incongruous world of Gunvalley, a sector of the city synonymous with wealth and gentility. Once a bastion for the burgeoning arms industry that had fueled the steampunk revolution, Gunvalley had since evolved into a refuge for the affluent, its soot-stained past paved over with cobblestone streets and bedecked with ornate homes. These homes, a parade of architectural grandeur, were monuments to the fortunes made from steel and shot—with iron-wrought fences embracing manicured gardens, where laughter once mingled with the tinkling of crystal fountains beneath gaslight glow.
But today, the district bore witness to a surreal pastiche of horror amid its genteel facades. Couples adorned in the faded elegance of wedding attire waltzed along the boulevards, their movements eerily precise underlain by a chorus of haunting oldie tunes that spun from unseen phonographs, the lilt of bygone years twisting into the macabre spectacle before them. Each face was marred with rivulets of blood that seeped from their eyes like tears of the damned, their mouths moving in unison, repeating the hollow mantra, "I love you," to no one in particular—or perhaps to everyone—with the fervor of the deeply and tragically entranced.
The unsettling ballet played out beneath the amber hue of streetlamps, casting Gunvalley in a glow that was part dream, part nightmare, reflecting the madness that had infected its inhabitants. The spectacle ensnared the senses, trapping the once vibrant air in a languid suspension, heavy with the scent of blood and the spectral strains of music that belonged to a more innocent era.
In stark contrast, a little boy peered through the delicate lace curtains of an upstairs window in one of the grand houses, his face a pale canvas of terror. His small hands pressed against the glass as he searched the grotesque parade for the faces of his parents, only to recoil when he found them among the cursed throng. Silent sobs racked his frame, his innocence besieged by the vile magic that had claimed his family, their once loving gazes now hollow and empty save for the macabre crimson tears.
The boy's tortured gaze might have gone unnoticed if not for the scandalous interruption that followed—a cacophony of shattering glass as a stray cat, frenzied by the pervasive malady, leapt through an open casement of a nearby home. The animal's caterwauling ripped through the air, briefly overpowering the phonographs' melodies, as it bounded into the lane and vanished into the night. Its abrupt departure was like a spell broken, allowing a solitary silence to creep into the tableau momentarily before the inescapable music reclaimed its dominion over the ensorcelled neighborhood.
Kazelle and Beckham exchanged a look, their purpose solidified in the face of this burgeoning calamity. Gunvalley and its denizens had fallen prey to a most sinister enchantment, and amidst the silent pleas of a captive youth, it was clear that their journey was far from its end, their work cut out for them in the twisted waltz of the damned.
Kazelle said, "Hmm."
Beckham commented, "Fuck."
"Cursed blood magic. From the blood from their eyes, their bodies moving to a tune..they're all dead."
"Dead?"
"The Vein. Holders of cursed blood. The founding father, archmage Eldric the Enthraller, was said to wield blood magic capable of enchanting kin and humans alike. His pursuit of arcane knowledge spawned a lineage that wields blood as a conduit for otherworldly powers. They are a rare vampire bloodline that wields this ability. They are rare."
"It's like necromancy.."
"The last zealot I killed was one of the Vein, but I was able to accidentally keep the humans alive using Gluttony, a skill I harnessed. But Raccun..seems like he killed them first, and then enchanted their bodies."
"So there's no hope for these guys, huh?"
"Not at all."
"I wonder what happens if we touch them."
"Don't look at them too long in the eyes." Kazelle walked forward, and Beckham followed. "Stare at them too long, you'll end up like them, and the curse would consume your soul faster than your female human mouth has been yapping all this time."
"Disrespectful. But what about touching them?"
"Same thing. Avoid all physical and eye contact. I'm manipulating you, so I have to keep you alive for now until I'm done manipulating your mind."
Beckham replied sarcastically, "Ahhh yeah it's working. I feel so manipulated. You're like a big teddy bear, a heart down in the behind all that fluff."
"Silence or die. Now point me to the witnesses that seen Raccun."
"You're gonna drink their blood? Won't you get sick?"
"No. Though the Vein vampire bloodline can curse other vampires, I'm a different breed."
"Okayyy we get it, you're a badass. So you won't be affected?"
"Since I'm not at full power, I would be, but I would only be weaker temporarily. I am the vampire king, I won't fall to a lesser vampire."
As Kazelle and Beckham steadied their resolve, the surreal dance of the corrupted continued unabated, a mockery of nuptial joy now perverted into something utterly abhorrent. But the outcry of the distraught feline heralded a new twist in the ghastly affair, one that would sear itself into the tableau with a more pronounced stroke of darkness.
A chilling gust swept through Gunvalley, causing the bloodied dancers to momentarily falter in their steps. The air carried the scent of brimstone and sorrow, muting the oldies' melodies to but a whisper against the night. Shadows coalesced at the district's far end, near where the central garden should be a sanctuary of lush greenery and fragrant blooms. But it was no haven that arose in that accursed place. Instead, there materialized a tremendous statue of a fallen angel, its wings once a testament to divine craftsmanship, now tattered and broken, bearing scars of some primordial disobedience. The stone figure hovered ominously, casting a malevolent gaze upon the twisted revelry below.
A ghastly aura pulsed from the spectral monolith, rippling waves of despair that sapped the warmth from the air. The corrupted celebrants started to drift towards it, pulled by an unseen force. Some fell to their knees, their hands lifted in supplication, their "I love yous" turning into a chant of adulation for the dark idol that loomed over them. The once pristine fabric of their wedding garments dragged across the cobblestones, smeared with filth and the detritus of the necrotic ritual that had claimed their souls.
Then, it began—a crescendo of wretched splendor. From the bowed crowd, a bloodcurdling scream rent the eerie calm, its timbre raw with primal fear. One of the dancers, her gown a soaked tapestry of reds and whites, clawed at her face, the tender skin underneath giving way to a darkness that no human should harbor. As her flesh tore, a black ichor seeped through the rivulets of blood— not of this Earth, but born from the abyss that had gazed deeply into her being.
She convulsed wildly, her screams crescendoing into a horrid cacophony that echoed off the statuesque homes of Gunvalley. And then, with a final harrowing shriek, her form collapsed inward, consumed by the shadow within until nothing remained but a smoldering heap of what once was.
The others seemed not to notice, their dedication to the floating graven image unyielding, their endless loop of torment resuming as if nothing had happened. Overhead, the silhouette of the fallen angelic statue remained, a silent overseer to the cursed worship that unfolded in its malevolent shadow.
Beckham, ever more vigilant, felt the gravity of their task weigh heavily upon them. This was more than mere enchantment; it was a plague upon the soul of the city, a darkness that gnawed at the very fabric of reality. And they knew, with a grim certainty, that the heart of this abyssal enigma lay in the haunting visage of the fallen idol before them—the floating statue that held Gunvalley in its sinister thrall.
Beckham thought, 'I go so far,.heading into the badlands..to continue my fathers legacy. He swore to me he would expose the Constabulary and all of its corrupted members. Am I doing the right thing, father? I'm standing beside an ancient vampire king, about to fight another vampire. Bet you didn't have this type of action, but you always choose your battles wisely. That's why you are a well known legend around New Babel. Should I be scared? Nervous? I'm nervous as hell. Why would Raccun do this? He was knce one of us, helping us kill cult members. He didn't say a word, he just left. And then went straight here to do this. He seemed to hate the cult as much as Kazelle does, but he's no different than them when it comes to action.'
Beckham looked around, saying, "Eh.."
Kazelle asked, "Have you spotted them?"
"No. But that floating statue of a fallen angel.."
"It's seeping with dark energy."
"Do you think.."
"Yeah. I do."
Kazelle conjured up his black scythe as shadows lingered from it, the corrupted people all looked at him, and he launched his scythe at the fallen statue, and the scythe hit it, making it explode in stone, blood, and shadows; a large gust of wind shot from it, making the ground shake.
Kazelle just looked as Beckham put her guard up to protect herself from the incoming debris.
"Hehe…fucking Kazelle.." A voice came from the destruction and smoke, and walking out, he was about 8 feet tall, muscular, short black and brown hair that was in two buns, but had two long braids coming down the front of his hair, his right eye was gone, and his left eye was dark bluish red, and he was cloaked in a rip up, shredded suit. He was holding a large red sword, and he grinned, "Long time no see..king."