Not for his blood. Not for his legacy. Not for his social status, but for his crimes that he acted.
With a mark on the throat, it reminded him the fear of what purebloods are capable for.
With Bloody Rose gun he had, it reminded him the consequences of what purebloods suffered for.
Despite the purest vampiric blood they had, all creatures including himself can success at gaining social
Benefits, yet carries the consequences that priced their sanity.
His finger tightened, placing the cold metal up his chin.
The chain clacked as he lifted the gun in a swift motion. Not for his blood, nor his legacy, nor his title.
But for his crimes that he acted. He could taste a bitter irony of a desire to escape the unshakable sense
Of a fear. He understood purebloods too well. Once as they lost their sanity,
Reality appeared to be light while personal virtues darkened.
Their eyes shifted to corner to corner, nervously. Everything became dreamy and distorted,
A liar become the most trustworthy while an honest person becomes skewed and manipulative.
Out of angst, they began to itch to pull their hairs, and their bodies shook uncontrollably.
"Where am I? Who am I? What am I? Why am I here?"
They whimpered and cringed at unfamiliar territories,
Nevertheless, once as storm of shapes invaded,
they smiled and greeted a good morning to their visitors. Anger boiled within him.
Being punished by pureblood, he refused to live in a fear. Yet it gnawed him deeply.
Being lowered by a maddening pureblood who he cannot see the fear for a blood,
His mouth tightened, the gun cocked. Can a silver bullet shatter an illusion that they created?
His rage came to halt once a hand placed onto his clenched hand, pulling the gun from his chin.
"Will it be justify your hatred toward vampires if you shoot yourself death?
Is that your reason for living by battling against every desire to shoot yourself out of misery?"
He swung the hand away from his wrist, aiming the gun at the stranger,
"Kuran Kaname, my only reason is to hunt every monster down, including myself, nothing else."
The stranger stood, letting the silence seep into. He finally spoke, "No room for others?"
The hunter said nothing, but his arm never wavered, and never leaving a eye on his enemy.
An irony that he found difficult to swallow was that he could be offering a rose to a vampire
To be his reason for living.