"Face down where the ancient soil meets the discarded flesh, the great stench of all that is rotten, and forgotten, the unburied clamber into what you were, feasting on the joy that is stolen forever, alchemy of disgust and hatred, the unceremonious, the smell of all final moments at once, embedded in the great beasts flesh, the carrier of the tormented, the final journey through the impossible, a silence so vast, that deafens with its roaring certainty, to the unnamed places, guarded by the ancient carrion and their minions of vomit and pestilence." – Greg Anderson
The exact details of their predicament were still sparse, but both Bella and Edward had been overcome by an intense feeling of dread. Blade had told them almost nothing as to why he needed them; any attempts to question him further about the subject, or indeed any element of their situation was ignored. Bella could tell they were in nearby Port Angeles, only a few miles away from Forks. Despite the close proximity, Bella had gotten the feeling that she would never see her old town again.
"Get out. We're here," said Blade as he pulled the car to a stop.
As the three got out, Edward's dread abruptly turned to righteous, burning anger. He managed to snag Blade's gun out from off out of his holster and pointed it at him.
"Okay, listen, you are going to give me some answers right now or I-" began Edward, but was cut off as he was struck in the face by Blade's boot.
"Motherfucker you did not just try to hold me up with my own gun," Blade said as he plucked the gun from Edward's hand. "You're 100 years old and you act like you're not even out of high school."
"Look, just tell us what the Hell is going on!" snarled Edward in contempt.
"And why exactly should I do that, considering you were threatening to kill me not 30 seconds ago?" replied the vampire hunter.
"Look, Blade," said Bella dejected. "Please, just tell us what's happening."
"…alright, I suppose this place is as good as any," said Blade. "Basically, we're dealing with an advanced strain of vampire."
"Wait a sec. That thing that attacked us back in the woods was a vampire?!" shouted Edward.
"You damn right it was. It's a new breed, and I've never seen anything like it before: strong, fast, and worst of all, normally invisible to the naked eye."
"But then how could we see it?" asked Bella.
"That's the thing," said Blade. "Only vampires, or those touched by vampires can see them. Humans see them as just an average person, no different than any random fool you'd pull off the street. Despite that, they don't use humans as prey. These vampires only use them as ways to increase their ranks. You know that black, viscous shit that was coming out of its lungs?"
The two teens nodded.
"That's a virus. An average human breathes that in, and within hours they've become one of the Black Hearts. That's what we call 'em. But like I said, humans are only used to increase their numbers. The Black Hearts' main prey is vampires, such as you, Edward."
"Vampires that prey on other vampires…" pondered Edward aloud.
"Yeah. Those tentacles you saw earlier? They…well, how can I put this without offending the young lady's delicate sensibilities? They're used to assimilate your biomass. Meaning they basically dissolve your ass from the inside out."
Blade paused to let the gravity of that statement sink in before continuing.
"There's more, too. You can't kill 'em the way you normally kill a vampire. Dissect 'em, burn 'em up, and the ashes will just slowly rebuild themselves back into a solid form. That's why you need to position their bodies into that pentagram position, and then put a silver bullet between their eyes. I've tried every other method, but it's no good."
"Okay, so there's some sort of virus that's turning people into a magical race of super-vampires that are un-killable without a very involved and contrived method, I understand that much. But why do you need us?" asked Edward, bewildered at what he'd gotten himself into.
"Because you're the key to stopping this plague before it goes worldwide," replied Blade matter-of-factly.
"And how can I possibly do that?" asked Edward.
"It's said that every 100 years there's a vampire born with incredible power deep within their soul. You, Edward Cullen, are that vampire."
"What on earth are you talking about? I never heard of any prophecy like that!" shouted Edward.
"Deny it all you want kid, but the fact remains that you are the one person capable of combating the one behind all this. The one they call Nosferatu," said Blade.
"Nosferatu?" asked Bella curiously.
"Yes, the ancient vampire of legend. He's said to predate even Dracula himself. More bat than man, it's said that he can only be slain by the one prophesized vampire. Thus far, nobody has stepped up to the task, because Nosferatu normally stays out of the public eye. It looks like he's finally made his move with this Black Heart plan though. I don't know where he got the kind of power to create a virus like that, but it must be some seriously heavy shit," said Blade.
"How do you know Nosferatu is behind all this?" asked Edward.
"Because ever since this plague started, he's been seen more than he has in the past three centuries: feeding on random Romanian townsfolk, slaughtering cattle, that sort of thing. It's said that Nosferatu brings plague with him wherever he travels, and this seems like his sort of work. This type of virus wasn't created in a laboratory, and nor were the Black Hearts. It has to be him."
"That doesn't prove it's him though. Maybe…maybe it's Dracula!" said Edward.
"Motherfucker, don't be stupid!" snapped Blade. "Dracula's been dead for millennia now, and every few years, some Calvin-Klein looking motherfucker comes around and says he's the vampire messiah! Man, give me a break! You white-ass vampires really need to lay off the Dracula shit, man. It's startin' to give me a fucking headache."
Edward and Bella looked at him, puzzled.
"…sorry," said Blade sheepishly. "It's a bit of a touchy subject with me. Gotten the exact same case at least five different times now."
"So…what do we do, Blade? I really don't know how to fight," said Edward.
"I know. That's why I'm gonna' teach you. When I get through with you, you'll be a hardened killing-machine, more than capable of taking out Nosferatu. But you gotta' commit yourself; I don't train just any random punk out of the suburbs. You think you're ready?"
"I'm ready," said Edward.
"Fuck you, you're not ready," said Blade. "You're too eager. Eagerness will get you killed on the battlefield."
"Oh, I'm ready," said Edward.
"Nigga fuck you! You ain't ready to roll with this!" replied Blade dismissively. "Go back home with your little girlfriend there; you two can pass each other notes during Math class and make-out in the hallways."
Bella watched this display of machismo with a mixture of disgust and curiosity.
"Hey man, I'm ready, I don't care what you say!" shouted Edward.
"Yeah right, like I'm gonna' believe some pussy-ass vampire who's 100 years old and still goes to high school so he can pick up girls. Hey, I know an 8 year-old who's right up your alley, you shithead pedophile!"
"I'll kick your fucking ass!" said Edward.
"Go ahead and hit me then!" shouted Blade. "Or are you just afraid I'll slap you like the bitch you are and make you look bad in front of your girl?"
At this Edward said nothing, so Blade continued.
"I'm not normally into white girls, but Bella here is a fine piece of ass! Maybe I should just get rid of you right now, so I can show her what a real man is like! One who's not-"
He was cut off as Edward punched him squarely in the face. The blow knocked off Blade's sunglasses, and despite his stoic demeanor, Edward saw an amused look in the man's eyes.
Blade calmly picked up his sunglasses and put them back on, and then looked squarely at Bella.
"He's ready," he said.
---
"My liege, we've found the wolf," said the lackey.
Nosferatu glanced up from his throne.
"Excellent. Bring it to me at once."
The lackey excused himself, and returned shortly thereafter accompanied by three armed guards. Between them, in chains, was one Jacob Black.
"What the…what the Hell is this?!" asked Jacob, with a mix of both anger and fear. He then heard a voice, a sharp whisper, in his mind.
"Where is the boy of the Cullen clan?"
"I already told you guys, I haven't seen Edward for days!" shouted Jacob.
The voice spoke again. "Take it to the dungeon. Torture it until we get some useful information."
Regular communication had all but ceased to exist for Nosferatu. His speech was arcane, a harsh and guttural tongue that only he still used. Therefore he found it much easier to communicate telepathically. His underlings found the process jarring at first: hearing his voice in your head with him not speaking a word, but they adjusted soon enough. Many were simply grateful to be working with the legend himself.
As the wolf was dragged off to his fate, Nosferatu felt a strange sense of wonder. He glanced down at his right hand, crackling with black electricity, and thought of the future.
The plague would spread. Infection on a global level was inevitable.
And all would perish at his hand.
The girl.
The one they called "the Daywalker."
And even Edward Cullen.