Chapter 2

When All Seems Lost You Meet the Unexpected

He slashed them repeatedly with his dagger, but more came after him. He started running off in the opposite direction, noting an abandoned cabin. He needed time to regroup, to gather his things, as well as his thoughts. This had been such bad night, the worst since he'd left a few months before. He'd been walking to the nearest town when a group of thugs came after him for his gold and his belongings. But Hannibal would not be one to give them some of the only things of his father he had. He'd fought off about 4 of them but more of their gang had come after him, and now he was running.

He threw the doors to the cabin open and ran to a door on the left, he stopped just inches from the window and pulled off a bag that was slung on his shoulder and pulled out one of his father's Kamas. He could never understand why his father would have weapons if he didn't fight or anything like that; well at least he didn't think he fought. He pulled out the other one and slung the bag across his shoulders and hurried out. He made a run for the front door, when he heard something on the roof of the old cabin. Someone was banging on it and outside they were taunting him.

He remained still, trying to listen to any sudden movements, knowing if he didn't get out he might just get killed. The movements stopped, and he reached for the doorknob, but even before he could turn it, he heard a sound that resonated through his ears and sent a chill up his spine; it was the howling of a werewolf. But soon it turned from one to two and so and so forth and he came to the realization that the gang of thieves after him were all Lycans, and that only a miracle would grant him coming out of this alive.

He slowed down his breathing, aware that Lycanthropes in their werewolf state could hear just about anything, that was a few feet from them. He sighed inwardly, now he had wished he hadn't fought those four. He was in for it now, and he needed to use all his resources in order to try and make it through the night. He took a deep breathe. He needed to get out of the cabin and run as fast as he could. He moved his leg, opened the door and made a run for it.

He maneuvered himself through the trees, not sure of where he was going, just sure that he needed to make it to a heavily populated area. He could hear the barks of the werewolves and even their footsteps and he figured there were about ten or twelve of them. He ran aiming for the main path but as he moved his legs to turn, something just jumped on him, and he fell to the ground, sliding back. He hit the trunk of a tree, and hurried to get to his feet, but before he could even move about six werewolves had surrounded him. He eyed them all. Was this really going to be his end?

He stood slowly. If this was really going to be the end of his he was going to go down with a fight and take as many Lycans with him as he could. He held his kamas, which

He managed to hold onto in his backwards slide and then swung it at the nearest Lycan. As he did this the two Lycans on his right jumped at him, biting at a spot on his arm. He clenched his teeth, as he felt the teeth break through his skin. It hurt like hell but he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of screaming. He moved his left arm and started swinging the Kama around, hacking a bit of the skin. He heard one of the Lycans yell in pain, and he just moved his arms wildly. He didn't know if he was going to get any of them, but this was better than having them tear apart at his body.

It seemed like an eternity, by now. He had stopped swinging his arms wildly. He'd gotten about 3 of them doing that, but it wasn't helping him. He was tired, and there were bite marks and pieces of flesh tore off in many noticeable places on his body. He keeled over, breathing heavy, blood spilling from his face. He moved his arm, swinging the Kama's blade and piercing it against a Lycans head. It yelped and writhed in pain until all movement ceased. He looked before him. There were still about 8 of them, and now he wasn't too sure if he was going to come out of this alive. He'd fought as hard as he could, but he couldn't take all these creatures on by himself. He was only 17, and although he thought he was a pretty good fighter, this encounter proved otherwise.

He felt another Lycan tug at his leg, and he moved his arm, but he couldn't even feel if he had hit anything. His entire body felt like it had gone numb. He just remained bent over, but slowly he began to lose himself, and he fell to the ground, and he knew, that he wouldn't get to live another day…

"Aduro Ferum!"

He opened his eyes long enough to see a blaze of fire hit the Lycans. It was like a storm, a storm of fire. The Lycans howled, and some fell to the ground, while others fled. Amongst the flames a figure appeared. Hannibal could barely see their face, the only thing he could really see were long robes and a long staff, and before he could see anything else, darkness overtook him and he fell into unconsciousness.

"You stink, you know that?" A voice rung out to him, even in his half conscious state. Slowly he opened his eyes, the image of someone coming into view. It was a man with black hair, blue eyes, and a scar on his lip.

"Wh-...Where am I?" Hannibal spoke, as he sat up slowly. His body hurt all over, and it was to be expected after what had occurred. He looked around; the place seemed dark and gloomy. He turned to see that it was day, and then looked at the man who was rolling a bandage around his arm.

"My cottage. Found you when you were fighting those Lycans. I thought you were dead meat, literally." The man looked at Hannibal, finishing with the wound and moving back from his seat.

"Who are you?" Hannibal asked with mild interest.

"I'm Malachi Vondrak, and you my boy are?"

"I'm Hannibal King." He blinked a few times, the sunlight hurting him. "Thanks for helping me out."

"Yes, well I had to do my duty. Couldn't let those Lycans keep running amuck. It would have interfered with my magic eventually, and then I would have really gotten mad." Malachi stood and walked to a table, on the other side of the room. He picked up two vials from the table and walked back to Hannibal's bed.

"Here, drink these. They'll speed up your recovery and hopefully that awful stench about you, Hannibal."

"Hey, I don't stink," Hannibal said while mumbling, and looking at the vials.

"Drink them, boy. I won't kill you the last thing I need is a cadaver in my home, and one that stinks so much." Malachi said quickly.

Hannibal grumbled and took the vials, opening them up and examining them. The blue liquid in one of them smelt awful, while the red liquid in the other just looked like blood to him. He sighed, and drunk them both. The way he figured was he was already living on borrowed time, and if he died so be it. He instantly made a face and looked at Malachi.

"What was in those? The blue tasted like shit and the red tasted like blood."

"The blue is the potion for recovery, and the red, was your meal, of sorts. I sensed your aura, and I know you're a Vampire. One of ancient line, no less." He snorted.

Hannibal raised his eyebrow, wondering what was so funny. "Yeah, so I am? What's it to you, Malachi?"

"It's nothing to me, Hannibal, I just expected someone from one of the ancient families to have a bit more, sense. Yes that's the word, sense."

"I do have sense! But what do you expect me to do when you have about 13 Lycans after your ass." Hannibal said quietly.

"It doesn't matter now, you're away from them, and they're probably somewhere dead." Malachi looked at Hannibal with interest. "What were you doing all the way here anyway?"

Hannibal didn't say anything.

"You won't answer will you?" Malachi grabbed his staff and hit him upside the head.

"What the hell! Are you fucking crazy, man!" He rubbed his head. "I left home, alright! No need to hit me with your staff. What are YOU anyway?" He asked irritably.

"Isn't it obvious by now?" Malachi, asked calmly. "No, of course not you seem to have the intelligence of a roach. I'm a Mage."

"I do not!" Hannibal said angrily. This guy was really burning his patience now. "So you always treat everyone like they're beneath you?"

"Beneath me?" Malachi inquired. "No, only the stupid dull-headed boys like you."

"I give up, you're annoying." Hannibal said in defeat.

"And you stink; now rest, we can speak again later." Malachi said as he got up and exited the door.

Hannibal just sat there, looking around, as he heard the door close. As annoying as that man was, he was appreciative for what he had done, and if he could, he would find a way to thank the mage properly.

"Why'd you let me stay with you, Mal? I always did wonder, could never understand really. Especially since I 'stunk' so much." Hannibal laughed, while they crossed the path that led towards Menelus. He still couldn't explain how he had been convinced to travel so far with Malachi, but here he was, almost half way around the world.

"Because you were in need of some supervision. You're reckless, Hannibal King. And you don't need to kill any innocents in your recklessness." Malachi spoke, as he placed his staff in front of him.

"I was on that night. But it's been two years, Mal. I've grown up, don't you think?" Hannibal added.

"I won't answer that question, the only person who truly needs to know that, is you. I'll let you answer it yourself."

"Fine, Mal. He sighed and looked in the distance. He could see some lights and knew they were probably nearing the city of Menelus. He had always wanted to travel here; he'd heard the rumors of Vampires mixing with many races to create all these hybrids. But for the time being he really wanted to go into town because he wanted to feed. The blood thirst had been welling up inside of him for sometime now, and the only thing he wished was to let it loose and indulge himself in the crimson blood that gave him life.

"Be careful, Hannibal. I won't be with you for most of this trip, so I expect you to use your head when acting. Actually, act as I would." And with those words Malachi faded from view.

"I'll act like I want. I'm not a kid anymore." He began to run towards the lights, in anticipation of the wonderful meal awaiting him, and could only hope his time spent here brought him lots of new experiences.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannibal King. The person who owns him is my friend whose googoo gaa gaa over him. Actually, she wishes she owned him.