. . . . . . .
Inside a grand room, a young man stood by the window, his calm expression a reflection of his kind nature. He stared blankly outside, lost in thought when a servant rushed into the room, bowing hastily.
"Lord Ryver, the vampires have been found."
Slowly, the young man turned, picking up a dagger that was on his table, and fixed it on the band around his waist. "Bring the witches, let's go," he ordered.
As he stepped outside his house, he walked straight to his carriage while three witches, dressed in tattered clothes and bound together, were dragged forward as they set out to where the vampires were.
When the carriage finally stopped, the young man jumped down, looking around the area where the vampires were sighted.
"Are you sure they gathered here?" he asked, his voice calm and soft.
The servant who had accompanied him nodded. "Yes, someone spotted them here, Lord Ryver."
The young lord's eyes narrowed as he commanded, "Bring the witches." The three witches; two women and a young man were led before him. They stood with their heads bowed, their tattered black robes rustling in the gentle breeze.
"Do you feel the vampires' presence here?" the young master demanded, his voice firm. The witches turned their faces aside, their lips sealed in refusal to answer.
Seeing their reluctance, the young human turned away, walking quietly towards his carriage. He fumbled with a small, ornate box hidden beneath the seat. When he returned, he continued.
"Still won't talk?" he asked softly.
The three witches glared, defiantly ignoring the man's words.
The young master raised a black mirror with a snake-shaped handle. Angling it to capture the witches' reflections, he started ringing a small bell.
The witches' initial scowls contorted into agonized screams as they tried to cover their ears or hide their faces, but their bound hands made it impossible.
"Ah!" They stumbled backward, their agonizing screams filling the whole place. Their skin began to peel away, revealing scale-like flesh beneath, like the shedding of a reptile's skin.
"Please, stop!" the first witch begged, her voice cracking with pain. "I'm just a crone; I don't know anything about locating vampires! Please, have mercy!"
The young lord ignored them as he continued to ring the bell even louder, coming closer to the witches, who were now backing away.
"Argh!! I am a low-level bane! I can't locate the vampires...please stop...he is a pure bane!" the second witch screamed, looking for a way to free herself while pointing at the other witch.
The last witch finally spoke, "They're here...not many, just three young ones, fledglings...they're hiding there..." He pointed at a big tree whose shade covered almost all the other trees.
"Now cast a spell and make sure they can't leave there." The young man brought down his hand, going towards the tree with two of his men. He took out the silver dagger, and as he got closer, one of the vampires ran out, his eyes burning red.
"Make sure you don't look them in the eyes; they can compel you. And try not to give them the pleasure of tasting your blood." Saying this, the young Lord raised his dagger and, with speed, first stabbed it into the heart of the vampire who was still looking confused, unsure of who to attack.
As the silver dagger plunged into his chest, the vampire's body crumbled, disintegrating into a pile of ash. The battle didn't last long, given that the vampires were still young.
"Let's go home," the young master said after killing the last vampire, turning towards his carriage. His victory was short-lived, as a maniacal laugh pierced the chilly air.
One of the witches, whose eyes gleamed with malevolence, pointed a bony finger at one of the guards. "He's been bitten," she cackled, her voice dripping with malice. "Your servant has been bitten."
Lord Ryver's gaze snapped towards the guard, his heart sinking. The guard's face was now pale, his eyes wide with fear as he stared at his arm in horror. A trickle of blood seeped from the torn fabric, revealing the unmistakable puncture wounds of a vampire's bite.
Lord Ryver turned, looking at one of his men, whose skin color was now fading slowly. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, then he walked towards the guard.
"L-lord Ryver...please don't kill me...I won't be one of them...please..." the guard pleaded.
"I know, I can't let you become one of them...which is why I have to do this." Holding the guard's neck, the young man gave him a comforting smile before thrusting the dagger deep inside his chest, not letting go until the guard fell, covered in his own blood, which had now turned black.
"We will all remember you." Lord Ryver muttered under his breath before heading back towards his carriage.
The ride back to his mansion was smooth until it wasn't, with a sudden stop. The young lord pushed his curtain to the side, and there he saw an old woman kneeling in front, stopping his carriage from moving.
"Lord Ryver! Please, I need your help. I am Griselda; I have someone you need to rescue from a vampire." The woman outside, who was none other than Griselda, shouted.
Hearing the word "vampire," the Lord hummed. "Griselda, join the carriage; let's talk over tea."
. . .
Meanwhile, Kael dropped the last standing wanderer, who had been alive just seconds ago, to the ground with a lifeless thud.
"Hmmm, this ended nice and easy," he muttered, stretching his lean body from side to side, his joints cracking softly. Extending his fangs in a lazy yawn. "What should I eat?"
Whistling a melody familiar only to him, Kael walked casually away from the body of the dead vampires. When he heard a leaf rustling not far from him, he hummed, his eyes shining with amusement.
"You know I can hear you from here, right?" Kael said as he continued his whistling.
The person who had been hiding in the bush, a young girl with a trembling body, ran out from her hiding spot, revealing herself.
"King Kael," her voice was low and shaky as she spoke, "Please help us."
Kael turned his face slightly, but he didn't pause his steps. "No. I'm hungry and bored. Can't help anyone but myself."
"You're supposed to be our king!" the girl shouted, as she revealed her elongated canines, sharp and pointed. Her eyes blazed with a mix of fear and desperation. "Someone is out there killing our kind...my brother, he..." Her voice cracked, tears streaming down her face.
Kael finally stopped walking. He turned to look at the girl, his lips set in a thin line when he saw her crying. "That's funny to me, because our kind is the strongest, I'm no king to terrible weaklings. I hate leeches."
The girl wiped away her tears, but her gaze never left Kael's face. She saw the indifference, the boredom, and her heart sank.
"And how did you even find me?" Kael continued, raising his hand tiredly, "I know I'm that popular, but this precious soul deserves some time alone too!" Kael sighed, rubbing his forehead, his eyes closed as if weary of the world.
The young vampire girl raised her lips slightly, a hint of a snarl, as she looked at their supposed Vampire King. "I guess the rumors are true, you're getting weak." She taunted, praying in her heart that it would work.
"Ah!" Kael snapped his finger. "Trying to shame the shameless has never worked, child." "Now go home and learn how to protect yourself. This old man needs to rest." Saying this, he turned to leave.
The girl, refusing to back down, shouted again, "Someone is using the witches to kill vampires! Our kind is being wiped away!"
Kael's ears perked up at the mention of witches, his interest piqued. He turned, walking back towards the girl with his eyes shining with mischief.
"How original, witches killing vampires. Now you have my attention."
The girl took a step back, her heart racing as Kael's presence was imposing. The Vampire King grinned, looking at the girl. He said,
"Fret not, little one. Do tell me more clearly about what is happening with my kin."