Hoot,
Hoot,
Hoot,
Ho-
A deafening bang shattered the quiet of the inn as a massive blade tore through the wall. Victor lunged forward avoiding the slash before darting toward Katherine and pulling her into his arms, shielding her from the fall of debris.
As the dust settled, four figures emerged from the wreckage, their eyes scanning the room. It appeared empty, save for the destruction. One of the attackers approached the window, peering out. A sudden blast echoed through the night—Victor's shotgun had fired.
He leaped from the window, landing hard on the ground below, Katherine still in his arms. Setting her down, he quickly reloaded the shotgun, pulling back the chamber with a sharp click. Katherine bolted, running ahead as Victor braced for the next assault.
Still focused on the window, Victor watched as a man clad from head to toe in armor fell through it, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.
Victor kept his shotgun trained on the man in white, who now approached with chilling confidence, his sword clinking with his armor as he walked. 'How tough is that helmet?'
"What do you want?" Victor demanded, his finger resting on the trigger.
The man tilted his head slightly, "Are you a Pillar?" He asked, then quickly dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. "Doesn't matter."
"Pillar? What are you even—" But before Victor could finish, the man vanished in a blur, dashing toward him at incredible speed. Victor barely had time to react.
However, his instincts took over. Quickly, he fired again, using the recoil to push himself backward, narrowly avoiding the blade that would have split him in two.
Rolling to his feet, Victor pointed his gun once more, but the situation had worsened. The others—three figures he had seen in the room were now closing in, weapons drawn.
Victor risked a glance behind him. He had told Katherine to run, but she hadn't gone far. She was crouched behind a building, peeking around the corner. 'Damnit, Katherine...' His eyes quickly darted back to the attackers, the option of flight seemingly nonexistent.
But then, something strange caught his attention. One of the figures stood a little further back. He squinted, "Doris..." He muttered, it was the woman from the bathhouse.
Had she set him up? The situation felt increasingly confusing. First, there was the armored man from the forest, and now Doris was here. What was going on?
He wanted to ask what was happening, but it was clear they weren't interested in conversation. Sighing, he reached for his elbow and loosened the belt.
Victor gritted his teeth as the familiar surge of power coursed through him. His skin grew pale, his body temperature spiked, and a pounding headache began to set in.
He hated this transformation, it was a reminder of everything he'd lost, but he couldn't afford to hold back—not now. Not when Katherine's life was at stake.
The man in white grinned beneath his helmet, sensing the change in Victor. "Doris was correct indeed," He said, gripping his blade tighter. "Foul Pillar!"
With terrifying speed, the man lunged, slamming Victor with enough force to send him crashing through the thick walls of the inn. Debris flew in all directions as Victor tumbled across the ground, finally slamming into a stone wall at the back of the inn.
Victor's eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dark that filled the dining hall he'd been thrown into. The room was dimly lit, with long tables covered in an assortment of items—from glass plates to silverware.
As he pushed himself up, he looked up just in time to see the armored man charging at him again, his heavy footsteps pounding against the floor, each step growing louder, closer.
With a quick, fluid motion, Victor hurdled to the side, grabbing onto a hanging pole from the ceiling. Using it as leverage, he swung himself around and kicked both feet into the man's chest, sending him flying backward.
Landing on the floor and seeing the rest of the group enter the inn, Victor's instincts screamed at him to retreat. The rapid crack of gunshots echoed through the room, and he darted further into the shadows, disappearing into the darkness.
From his concealed position, he could see the other attackers slowly moving into the ruined building, their weapons drawn, scanning the area for him.
'This isn't good.' Victor thought, his heart pounding. He needed to buy time, to figure out a way to take them down one by one, or at least find a way to escape. The latter seeming impossible.
"Hiding?" The gunslinger sneered, snapping his pistols shut after reloading. "Pathetic."
"Focus, Theodore," The armored man said, his breath fading as he gripped his chest. "He's stronger than before. Be careful."
The group split, each of the four moving in different directions through the inn's ruins. Victor, hidden in the shadows, tracked their movements. His vision wasn't perfect, but the dim lighting worked to his advantage, he could see them better than they could see him.
His eyes locked onto the weakest link: a woman clutching a knife. She moved nervously, clearly out of place compared to the others. Victor could tell she wasn't a fighter. She was there to increase their numbers, nothing more. She stayed close to Theodore, but just far enough for Victor to make his move.
Silently, he grabbed a large tablecloth from a nearby table and slipped behind her. In one swift motion, he looped the cloth around her neck and yanked her back, cutting off her air supply and silencing any scream that might have escaped.
Theodore reacted instantly, firing off several shots into the darkness. The bullets whizzed past Victor, hitting nothing but empty space.
Muffled, frantic sounds escaped the woman as Victor tightened the cloth, wrapping it around her mouth and binding her hands behind her back. With a final, forceful shove, he tossed her to the side, out of sight but alive.
One down. Three to go,
Theodore was on high alert, his arms stretched out, pistols ready, squinting into the faint light that barely crept through the cracks in the walls.
Crack.
He fired to his left, only for the bullet to ricochet off the wall. No impact, nothing damaged. Another noise came from his right—he shot again. Nothing. He repeated this twice more before the realization dawned on him: Victor was playing him, baiting out his shots.
His heart raced as he squeezed the triggers again. Click. The pistols were empty.
"Fuck!" Theodore cursed under his breath, his mind racing as he held his guns up, pretending they were still loaded, hoping Victor wouldn't notice.
A faint rustle in the background, accompanied by footsteps. Click. Another dry fire.
In that split second, Victor lunged, disarming him with a blow to the wrists. Both pistols flew from Theodore's grip, clattering uselessly to the floor.
Desperately, Theodore reached for the knife strapped to his thigh, pulling it out in a flash, but Victor was already there, catching his hand mid-thrust. With a sharp knee to Theodore's gut, the knife fell, clattering alongside the pistols.
With his wrist pinned, Theodore felt a sudden lightness before his legs gave out beneath him. He crashed hard onto the concrete floor, his head bouncing off it as his consciousness faded into a blur.
Two down. Two to go,
Victor moved through the maze of tables, his eyes scanning for Doris. She was nowhere to be found. Where had she disappeared to? He winced, falling to one knee as his body screamed in agony.
His transformation had gone on too long, and the strain was becoming unbearable. With trembling hands, he fished out a vial of monster blood from his pocket.
Drinking it quickly, he felt a brief relief as the pain went away. But it was only a temporary fix, one that wouldn't work again until the transformation's end. He had to end this now—fast. Doris could wait, the armored man was the immediate threat.
Victor's attention shifted back to the man in white armor, the strongest of the group. Steeling himself, Victor moved, but his foot knocked a chair, causing a loud clatter.
The armored man's head snapped in Victor's direction, his sword slicing through the air in a deadly arc.
The blade tore through the walls, allowing moonlight to flood the room. Now exposed, Victor had no time to retreat into the darkness. He had to face him head-on.
He took a step back, grabbing a plate from a nearby table, and hurled it at the armored man.
The ceramic plate shattered against the armored man's body, and as he swung his massive sword again, Victor lunged beneath the blade, snatching up the shards of the plate.
He hurled them into the small gaps beneath the man's helmet, targeting the weak point he had observed earlier when the monster had lunged for his neck.
The man quickly turned, raising his arm to shield the opening in his armor. "Foul tactics."
"Well, you're not exactly playing fair either," Victor shot back.
Without hesitation, he charged at the man, shoving a chair into his path. The chair splintered on impact, and Victor seized the fragments, repurposing them as makeshift knives.
The armored man staggered back, trying to defend against what could be a fatal strike. Though Victor had the upper hand, he knew his borrowed strength wouldn't last much longer.
As Victor sprinted toward him with a shard of ceramic in one hand and a torn piece of wood in the other, the armored man swung his sword, but Victor's sprint was just a feint. He quickly pulled back, narrowly avoiding the blow.
Quickly, he reached down to his ankle and retrieved his stiletto, his eyes locked on the silver line leading directly to the man's neck. Gripping the blade by the tip, he aimed carefully, but just as he was about to throw.
"Victor!" A familiar voice rang out. It was Katherine, and beside her stood Doris, holding her hostage with a gun pressed to her head.
Victor's vision blurred as his eyes reddened at the sight of Katherine, trauma washing over him. He had sworn never to let what happened that day happen again, but as the distraction consumed him, the man clad in white raised his sword and brought it down with lethal force, slashing across Victor's temple. He collapsed, falling into a pool of his own blood.