In one of the many darkened and cluttered alleyways that branched off from the city's main thoroughfare two figures could be made out. One was the slightly hunched form of a man who carried his cross with a twisted pride. The other was much smaller and was most likely a girl due to the flowing clothing hanging on the slight frame. This sight was not all that odd. There was a thriving trade in underage prostitutes for those members of the underworld with a Lolita complex. What would definitely have caused a few passersby to throw down their flasks and resolve to get their eyes examined was the directional orientation of the smaller figure. The little girl, for that is what she was, was sitting very calmly on the wall. That is to say she was perched halfway up a vertical surface with no visible form of support. She had heard of gravity but generally paid it no mind. The man at least had the decency to be planted firmly on the ground and not breaking fundamental laws of physics like so many old breadsticks.
A closer examination of the two beings revealed some interesting details. The man was brown-skinned and looked very much like a warrior monk from some forgotten part of Southeast Asia. The little girl was fairly normal looking all things considered but she had a dreadfully sullen look about her as if she had seen all the horrors of life in an instant. At the moment the man was not looking at her but rather staring into the deeper shadows of the alleyway. The young girl cocked her head to one side and sniffed contemptuously.
"Donovan, my head hurts," She said in a voice that was almost completely devoid of emotion. "Can we sleep in a hotel tonight?"
"Perhaps." The man called Donovan measured his words carefully. It would be risky trying to book a hotel room even in this run-down section of town. His massive sword and oversized prayer beads were likely to attract unwanted attention. The local vampire cult would be notified of a hunter and then the attacks would begin. As it was he had the unshakeable feeling that they were being stalked. There was a chill in the night air that didn't quite fit.
Before he could say anything else a flash of light on metal alerted him to another presence in the alleyway. A second later he was able to see several shadowy figures creeping toward him. Soundlessly and without any wasted movements Donovan unsheathed his sword and swung it in a wide arc that disarmed the advance guard. Having lost the element of surprise a full out assault was launched by the group of unseen adversaries.
"Anita, run," Donovan quickly brought his sword to bear and charged forward to meet the attack. The clash of weaponry was accompanied by a flash of light. Anita looked back briefly before running off into the night. With his young ward now relatively safe the eastern vampire hunter was able to utilize his full strength in this battle. A feral grin crossed his face as he switched the sword from the left hand to the right.
While the battle raged outside Anita stood in the entranceway to the alley. As she looked on a malevolent presence crept up behind her. The figure watched her for a few moments and disappeared when she seemed to notice it. Feeling chilled Anita took refuge in the nearest motel while waiting for Donovan to catch up.
Donovan's superior strength proved an equalizer in this battle. No matter how many strove to cut him down he was able to fend them off effortlessly. Almost as quickly as it began the struggle was finished. The alleyway was now littered with the broken bodies of vampiric minions.
Donovan breathed a sigh of relief and quickly exited onto the main street. He then made his way to the nearest motel reasoning that Anita would have gone there for refuge. It was a rather dodgy establishment but suitable for their meager needs. As he expected the young girl was waiting for him in the lounge.
"Are you alright?" he queried, eyeing the desk clerk warily. "Were you followed?"
"No." Anita, as usual, was extremely terse with her responses. She looked up at Donovan with eyes that pierced even his soul. He knew why she watched him like that. The bloodlust still had a hold on him and he shook slightly because of it. However, he would not allow her to get the best of him tonight. With a resigned sigh he turned away and negotiated a room for the night.
Their stay at the motel seemed as if it would be uneventful but this was not to be so. Very early in the morning a figure appeared in the room with them. The light that crept in through the window seemed to avoid contact with this new threat. In complete silence the shadowed individual glided toward the bed where he expected his target to be fast asleep. However, as he carefully drew back the covers he noticed that what appeared to be the prone forms of two sleeping people were nothing more than carefully stacked pillows and other paraphrenalia
"You are the vampire lord Mortis," Donovan stated as he arose from his meditation spot on the floor. "I've been waiting to kill you."
"Hello Donovan," came the reply from a crisp, sardonic voice. "I've come for the girl. Her potential as a psychokinetic will be most beneficial to my brood"
"I am sure it would. However, I will never let you lay a hand on her."
Almost without warning Donovan was up and his massive sword was swinging a wide arc toward Mortis' head. A gauntleted hand took the impact of the blow and forced the blade down. Mortis took the moment's pause to unsheathe his own sword and attempted to impale Donovan. The vampire hunter easily dodged the attack and opened up the space between himself and his adversary with a well placed kick.
"Impressive," Mortis said with a smirk. "But can you dodge this"
Mortis' next attack was a flurry of strikes and stabs that Donovan skillfully blocked with simple movements of his sword. As the battle raged on their blades crashed against each other in an almost melodious pattern. Each blow rang with the echoed fury of the combatants. There was no stopping them at his point as they were locked in a murderous ballet that could only be decided with the death of one or the other.
Anita had been sleeping in the room across the hall as Donovan expected them to be attacked during the night. Hearing the ruckus she was awoke and crept to the door. For a few moments she stood with her hand gripping the doorknob. Finally she opened the door a crack and peeked out. Standing in the hall were several vampires, several of whom were smoking cigarettes. Before she could close the door a hand shot out and pulled it wide open.
"Hello girlie."
The vampire lord was quickly tiring due to the intensity of the contest. He had expected to find an opponent weakened after facing his minions. This half-vampire bastard is better than I realized. No sooner had he though this when a particularly powerful blow from Donovan knocked him to the ground.
"Ready to die?" Donovan asked with his sword pressed to Mortis' chest.
Just then a screams pierced the night. Recognizing the voice as Anita's, Donovan burst out of the room and into the hallway. Currently the little girl was having a hard time deflecting the offensive from Mortis' followers. Donovan came to her aid killing many of the minions with a single stroke.
Meanwhile Mortis had managed to sneak to a position where he could launch an attack on Anita. Although the attack came at lightning speed the young psychic was able to deflect it with her abilities. More of Mortis's minions had joined in the battle and were keeping Donovan busy at the moment. In the meantime Mortis himself continued the brutal assault on his youthful prey. Despite her best efforts she would soon be unable to shield herself from the powerful sword slashes and that would be the end of her.
"Donovan!" Anita screamed as her powers finally gave out.
The vampire hunter glanced in the direction of the scream and saw Anita about to be impaled on the end of Mortis' sword. In a fit of rage the dark-skinned hunter threw off the minions and charged straight for their leader. The intended target brought his blade up to parry the lunge and was horrified to find that he was no longer fighting against a skilled swordsman. What he now faced was a crazed monster fueled by a desire to see him reduced to his composite parts. His first few attempts at halting the frantic barrage of were fairly effective and left him with minor scratches. In return he left some major wounds on his opponent although this seemed to have no immediate bearing on the battle. Following an inhuman howl of pain and murderous intent the bestial Donovan lunged at Mortis once more. This time the entire building seemed to shake with the force of his attack and a strong wind was generated from the epicenter of the conflict.
The battle was short-lived as Donovan's blade finally found purchase and sliced off the sword arm of Mortis. Before the vampire lord could react Donovan was at his neck, sucking him dry. Anita, horrified, passed out from both shock and exhaustion.
When she awoke she was no longer in the motel at Bunderdusk. Rather she was on a cot in what appeared to be a ship's cabin. In a corner of the room wrapped up in cloth was Donovan's sword. Nearby on a small table there lay a hurriedly scrawled letter from him. It read:
Anita, I realize now that I can no longer watch over you. It is only a matter of time before my bloodlust takes over fully and I become that which I hate most. I know that it would pain you to see me fail after trying so hard these past few years to retain my humanity. Therefore I am sending you away to live with a group of Vampire Hunters in New York. Perhaps one day our paths will cross again and we can talk about old times. Sadly I believe that when we next meet it will be as enemies and one of us will have to kill the other. So I pledge you to become strong that you may be able to free me from my accursed blood. And never lose heart my dear because this sacrifice was not in vain. The sword I leave with you is the greatest protection I could offer. Now that you have it vampires will never hurt you.
Best wishes,
Donovan.
For the first time in her memory Anita's eyes filled with tears. She was surprised to find that she was not crying because she missed Donovan. Nor were the tears for his kindness toward her all this time. Rather she sobbed now for the tormented soul of a man who could not deny the darkness within himself.