The night has never done justice to the beauty of the city.
Dimly lit by streetlights, the Haussmann buildings were barely visible from the clock tower Vanitas was currently hiding on. His was forced to abandon his white cloak, originally a part of standard chasseur outfit, for the sake of camouflage, leaving him to the mercy of the Parisian night. He scanned the alleys and corners of the French capital, furiously wishing to find the culprit of his suffering. For better or for worse, the serial murderer in town was still nowhere to be found.
As one of the church's chasseurs, Vanitas caught wind of this case a few days ago and had been on it ever since. Paris was haunted by a monster lurking in the streets, leaving bodies drained of blood on its track.
Vampires.
The mere mention of the word made his stomach turn. He needed to rid the world of these vicious monsters, the exact reason why he chose to live as a chasseur.
"There we go." He stood abruptly, having caught a faint scream in a nearby alley. He could make out two shadows, one clearly forcing itself on another.
He dived down, pulling his daggers from their holsters, heading straight for his target. Just as he was about to crash into his opponent, the vampire turned around noticing his presence and he just had enough time to evade a blow. Landing not so gracefully, he staggered longer than he should which gave an opening for it to strike again. Vanitas' reflexes, thanks to years of fighting and training, saved him from being the next victim. He retreated a few steps to properly regard who he was against. Signature red eyes were glaring back at him, furious with its meal being interrupted, the monster let out a warning howl.
Fitting for an animal like you lot, Vanitas smiled to himself, reaching for the little pouch attached to his uniform.
"We are the chasseurs, the indestructible blades that hunt the crimson-eyed heretics..." He then started reciting the lines while injecting himself with the booster but stopped midway. "Or whatever. Die!"
Without waiting for the drug to kick in, Vanitas charged at the creature. It was fast, moving swifter than he had expected. The dagger meant for its eyes ended up hardly scratching its face, Vanitas even had to drop to the ground to avoid its claws. Recognising that this was not his average opponent, he quickly pulled out a flash grenade and rolled to the side, waiting for it to detonate.
A curse-bearer, those whose True Name was stolen. This must be what this vampire was, judging from its abnormal features. Though vampires were already considered monsters by the church, they didn't have long fingernails sharp enough to cut through flesh, nor gore pouring from the eyes. Having killed at least five in addition to superior physical abilities, this would not be a fair fight for Vanitas, so he didn't plan on fighting fair.
Brilliant light illuminated the night, the grenade made to affect a vampire's eyesight worked its magic. The creature covered its face with one hand, the other swinging around aimlessly, panicking from losing its vision. Vanitas unleashed the wires hidden in the hilt, pulling his enemy off balance. He rushed forward, eager to end the fight, but was sent flying sideways by another force.
Luckily, he was cushioned by some trash that he didn't die directly from head trauma. He blinked twice, trying to clear the stars and identify the offender.
"Please stop this, Charles!" In the distance stood the woman Vanitas had completely forgotten about. She had tears running down her face and despite poison from the bite, she held herself up, desperately trying to get to the curse-bearer. "You promised to control it!"
Acquaintance. That was unexpected, Vanitas had assumed the victim was an innocent human passing by, which was why he didn't pay attention to her yet.
"Can't you see he's beyond help?" He stood, ignoring the protest of his muscles hurting from the fall. "So are you, who sides with him with full knowledge of his crimes."
"You are the one who took care of the bodies, aren't you? Girls as young as you, their lives stolen from them, yet you still had to tarnish their bodies, just to cover for this guy." She flinched from Vanitas' words, guilt weighting on her.
"Poor thing. Their families must be devastated – not only was their daughter, their wife, their sister murdered, but her body was also striped and thrown away like garbage!" As he continued provoking her, he could see her shaking with shame. It would be hard to take on two vampires in one go, so he had to make sure he had all the advantages he could get before the curse-bearer recovered from the flash grenade.
"Tell me. What were you thinking when you leave their lifeless bodies on the streets?" He cocked his head to one side, a mocking grin forming on his face. "Or did you have fun planning what to do with the next body?"
"Shut up!" She yelled, unable to listen to him any longer. With anger clouding her judgement, she jumped at Vanitas recklessly, her punches too easy to dodge. Vanitas danced around effortlessly, drawing her away from her company.
"Am I not right? You're just as sick as h-"
An ear-piercing scream interrupted their fight. The curse-bearer – Charles – should have recovered his eyesight, however, he was on his knees screaming in agony, a sign of losing completely to whatever had possessed him.
"Better hurry up on this side." Vanitas said to himself, dropping his acts. He lashed at her attempting to benefit from her distraction, only to be grabbed by the collar and slammed to the ground. Knowing he'd be in trouble if he paused, he instinctively shot out a leg and kicked, repaying her for earlier. The injury was finally enough to bring her down.
Triggered by the fall of his lover, the creature came at Vanitas with renewed speed and strength. Vanitas had barely gotten up before he was forced to fight again. Razer-sharp fingernails grazed his shoulder, his back, still aching from being thrown around, slowed him down to a degree he was unable to twist away from the fangs threatening to spill his lifeblood.
Just when he thought he was dead, his assaulter was blasted away, the ray of heat dangerously close.
A figure in white descended from above, strands of long, pinkish hair rustling in the wind. Her clothes, a complete contrast to Vanitas', seemed to shine in the dark, so were her amber eyes.
The moment those eyes turned on Vanitas, he understood where her nickname came from. Hellfire Witch – beautiful and lethal, burning everything in her way. He froze in his place, oblivious of how this encounter would turn his life upside down.
