After a hearty meal and some rest, Marx and Cherie prepared to set out into the night. As they walk through the now-dark street, the town seems even more ominous.
Shadow flickers in the corners of their vision, and every rustle of leaves sound like a threat.
"This town is too quiet." Marx whispered, his senses on high alert.
"Agreed, let's start by checking the recent attack sites" Cherie replied.
When Marx looks at Cherie, he feels somewhat insecure because this man seems inexperienced and not reliable.
From his behavior and not taking things seriously, make Marx think if it is ok to work with him.
But according to the rules, the minimum team on duty is two person. Its purpose is to prevent the other person from turning if they did fail the mission.
Never mind, I will just execute him on site if he ever turns into a vampire, thought Marx.
"What's on your mind?" Cherie suddenly asked.
"Nothing," Marx replied.
"Are you thinking of executing me if I get attacked?"
"It's my duty to do so" Marx replied straightforwardly.
"Wow, not even a hesitation." Cherie placed his hand on his chest. "It's kind of hurt, you know."
"Please do so, if it were me who's turning."
Cherie glanced at him for a moment, then looked at the night sky. "I won't."
Marx is surprised by his statement. "What do you mean you won't? It's our duty to do so. That's why I can't trust—--"
His sentences are cut off abruptly by a blur of movement. A vampire, swift and silent, lunged at them from the shadows, fang bared and eyes gleaming with malevolence.
Cherie moves with lightning speed, with a fluid, almost effortless motion, he grabs the vampire by his neck. His gloved hand closes around the creature's throat like a vise.
The vampire snarled and thrash, but Cherie's grip is unyielding with an unchangeable grim face.
With a swift, decisive motion, Cherie lifted the vampires off his feet and slammed it into the ground with bone-crushing force without any mercy.
The impact is so powerful that the vampire's back breaks with an audible crack. The creature gasps and writhe in agony, its eyes wide with shock.
Marx, still recovering from the surprise attack, stares at Cherie without a word. The ease with which Cherie had dispatched the vampire is staggering.
The vampire, immobilized and in pain, glared up at him, but it is clear that it is no match for Cherie's strength.
"This vampire is a new turn," said Cherie.
"How do you know?" Marx quickly regained his composure, drawing the silver knife that Cherie gave to him back at the inn and stepping forward.
"I drank with him a few times before, he is a local," said Cherie, his voice calm and controlled.
Marx knelt beside the vampire, looking into its eyes. Without wasting any more time, Marx plunges the silver knife into the vampire's heart. The creature let out a final, gurgling scream before its body disintegrated into ashes.
The street fell silent again. Marx stood up, "Thank you," his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "I didn't see it coming."
Cherie shrugged, a wide smile playing on his lip. "Praise me more my dear."
Marx's genuine gratitude is futile for someone with no shame. He quickly turns and walks away leaving Cherie all alone. But it didn't take long for Cherie to keep up to Marx.
"It's a female vampire," stated Cherie.
Marx is looking at the silver knife while also wondering how a body that is bigger and taller than him can move that fast and has very good instinct.
"How old are you?" Marx suddenly asked.
Both of them pause in unison.
"You are finally interested in me, my dear." Cherie looked very happy that he tried to move closer to Marx.
Marx stops him by putting his palm against Cherie's face. "Stop, or I'll slap you in the face."
Cherie laughed at Marx's reaction. "I'm twenty years old."
"And how do you know the vampire is a female?" Marx changed their conversation without continuing any further for the previous question.
As they approached the first site, the air grew cooler, and a sense of foreboding style over them. The site is gruesome, bloodstain still visible in the dim moonlight.
"I saw the bite mark on the vampire we killed just now. The bite marks look neat and without force, men are easily tempted by women's beauty."
Cherie knelt, examining the mark on the blood. "There are three types of vampire, firstly is non-conscious type vampire, they don't have consciousness and tend to eat sloppily, probably because of the hunger that drives their mind insane. This site is an example."
Marx looked on when Cherie stood up and let him continue.
"Secondly, a vampire with intelligence. They plan and attack according to their preferences just like we human, which we are currently facing right now."
Before Cherie continued his explanation, he looked up for a moment, feeling the presence of a vampire, he chuckled.
"Lastly, the vampire ruler," Cherie suddenly sprinted toward a stack of wooden boxes, leaping onto it with effortless grace. With a powerful push from his leg, he launches himself into the air, his form a blur as he ascends to the rooftop.
Marx watches as Cherie lands softly on the roof, his movement fluid and precise. Marx slowly starts to recognize Cherie's ability and so he keeps his eyes trained on Cherie, ready to follow his lead.
Cherie crouches low, scanning the rooftop, the vampire's presence is faint but unmistakable. He moves silently across the tiles, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow. But as he reached the edge, he realized the vampire had fled.
He looks around, searching for any clues as to the vampire's escape route, but finds none.
"The vampire fled," said Cherie.
"What did you say?" Marx shouted slightly but kept his volume down.
Cherie prepares to return to the ground, he takes a running start and leaps off the roof. Landing with a soft thud, in the alleyway below, right behind Marx.
Marx, caught off guard by Cherie's sudden appearance, jumps slightly and points the silver knife toward him.
Reflectively Cherie raised both of his arms to surrender to Marx, "It's me, The vampire gets away." he said with a voice mix of surprise and amusement.
"Why do you always move around without even telling me?" Marx yells at Cherie and returns the silver knife to him then walks away.
A faint smile playing on the corner of Cherie's mouth. "You are worried about me?"
"Of course I do. We are partners right now, we should go through all of the ups and down, for better, for worse, until we are part by—--" Marx is so furious that he didn't even realize what he was blabbering about until...
Cherie's eyes widened in surprise, he didn't dare to move or say anything unnecessary, so he just froze in place waiting for the right time.
Marx placed his finger against his nose bridge and started to press it. What kind of contagious disease is this? Is it because he keeps saying unnecessary things?
Or because he is treating me differently? Marx kept asking himself but eventually gave up and chose to focus on his duty.
"Let's go, we can't let them terrorize this town any longer." Marx glare at Cherie with a hateful eye.
Cherie quietly follows Marx, and continues their investigation, gathering clues and piecing together the pattern of the attacks. Marx remained vigilant throughout the rest of the night.
As the sun rose, Cherie looked quite tired and yawning repeatedly, while Marx also felt tired.
"Let's rest for now. We'll return again tonight."
"Sure."
Both of them return to the inn.