Damien sprinted down the hallway, his breath coming in ragged gasps and the sound of his boots slapping against the cracked floor was barely louder than the tapping of the metal rod behind him.
The woman-no, the thing-was following him and her footsteps were strangely light, almost like a whisper in the chaos of his escape.
Every few seconds, he would hear that tapping sound again, it was deliberate, as if she was playing a game and toying with him.
'She's fast. Too fast.' Damien thought to himself as he ran.
He rounded a corner, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched for an exit or anything that could slow her down. The halls were a complicated path of crumbling walls and debris, but he had no choice. He could feel her closing in.
Glancing back, Damien caught a glimpse of her in the distance, her pale face was visible in the dim light and that eerie smile never fading.
'Focus.' He forced himself to breathe. He had Nightshade and his Sanguine Arts, and he had survived every danger since the start of the apocalypse.
But something about her, something in those glowing red eyes, felt different. He was sure she wasn't just a monster; she was aware and dangerous in a way the others weren't.
As he rounded another corner, he saw a door up ahead, slightly ajar.
Without hesitation, Damien dove through it, slamming it shut behind him and quickly wedging a chair under the handle. He backed away from the door, his heart hammering in his chest.
For a moment, everything was still and the silence was deafening.
Then...
Tap!
Damien's blood froze.
Tap!
Tap!
The sound was closer now, coming from right outside the door. He could feel the presence on the other side, her breath against the wood, the faint scraping of metal as she dragged the rod across the door.
"I see you, little boy." She cooed from the other side in a mocking tone. "You can't hide from me."
The door rattled, and Damien instinctively backed up, gripping Nightshade tightly. His eyes darted around the room, it was an old lab, with shelves of broken equipment and overturned tables.
He had nowhere to go, so he had to fight.
Suddenly, the door exploded inward, the chair splintering as the woman stepped through, her red eyes gleaming in the dim light.
She was faster than anything Damien had faced before, her movements impossibly quick and graceful, as if she were dancing through the wreckage. She twirled the metal rod in her hand like it was part of her body.
Damien braced himself, Nightshade raised in a defensive stance. He needed to keep distance as her speed was her advantage.
She lunged at him without warning, the metal rod blurred as it swung toward his head. Damien barely had time to parry the blow with his blade, the impact sending a shockwave through his arm.
She spun on her heel, bringing the rod down again in a fluid motion, and Damien had no choice but to throw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding a crushing strike.
He slashed at her mid-spin, catching the edge of her arm. Dark blood sprayed across the room, but she didn't even flinch and the wound closed up slowly, her smile widening as if the pain only excited her more.
She pressed the attack on him and each strike was faster than the last, her eyes glowing with a predatory glee.
Damien dodged and parried, his mind racing. She was too fast—too skilled and worst of all, she had a high recovery rate. Every move he made, she countered, and every opening he thought he saw was a trap.
She was driving him into a corner, her smile never faltering.
"I wonder," She whispered, her voice soft like silk, "What your blood tastes like."
She lunged again, faster than before, her rod swinging for his legs. Damien leaped back, but his foot caught on debris, and he stumbled.
She was on him in an instant, her rod coming down like a hammer toward his chest. He barely raised Nightshade in time, the force of her strike slamming him onto his back, the wind knocked from his lungs.
Bang!
For a brief second, their eyes met, and Damien swore he saw something terrifying in her gaze—a hunger, like a twisted joy in the violence.
She pressed the rod harder against Nightshade, forcing the blade down toward his throat.
Damien's muscles screamed as he struggled against her strength, but it was no use. She was too strong. The rod inched closer, the cold metal brushing against his neck.
'I'm not dying here.'
With a surge of desperation, Damien let go of Nightshade with one hand and grabbed a shard of glass from the floor. In one swift motion, he drove it into her thigh.
Aaaarrrggh!
She screamed, recoiling just enough for Damien to shove her off him. He scrambled to his feet, his chest heaving and Nightshade still clutched tightly in his hand.
The woman staggered back, her glowing eyes blazing with fury now and her playful smile was finally gone. Blood oozed from the wound in her thigh, but was slowly closing. She didn't stop her attack, If anything, it seemed to fuel her rage.
"Clever boy" she hissed, her voice dripping with malice. "But it won't save you."
She charged at him again and this time, her movements were even faster and more erratic.
Damien barely managed to deflect her first strike, and the second hit him square in the ribs, sending him crashing into the wall.
Boom!
Pain shot through his side, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to let it stop him.
He needed only one chance, one opening to deal a deadly blow.
As she raised the rod for a killing blow, Damien feigned weakness, letting his body sag just enough to bait her into overcommitting. When she swung, he ducked low, bringing Nightshade up in a vicious arc.
The blade sliced through her midsection, it was a clean and deep strike.
Slash!
For the first time, the woman's face twisted in surprise, her glowing eyes dimming as she staggered back while clutching her stomach. Blood poured from the wound, pooling at her feet.
Damien, panting and battered, stood over her and his grip on Nightshade tightened. He didn't wait for her to speak or for her regenerative ability to kick in. With a final, decisive strike, he drove the blade into her chest.
The eerie glow in her eyes flickered out, and her body collapsed lifelessly.
Damien stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, his heart still racing. The room was silent again, but the danger hadn't passed. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his side aching from the blow.
[You have acquired Primal Energy of Level 8 Vampire Fledgeling. You get Dexterity + 2, Strength + 2]
[You get 2 status points to distribute freely.]
[You have acquired the title 'Vampire Slayer' and have been marked with the 'Nocturne's Breath'. It could trigger a primal fear or discomfort in vampires, alerting them to the presence of a slayer]
[You have incurred the wrath of a [1]Sire for killing her fledgeling. You have been marked with Sire's Seal: A mark left by the sire as a symbol of retribution for the death of their fledgling. It signifies the sire's intent to avenge their progeny]
"What the f*ck!!"