"Who is the Black Swordsman," Thisdudeintheback questions loudly to an audience.
"Kirito, from SAO," some dumbass shouts back.
Proceeds to pull out glock and caps that motherfucker in the knee.
"Now, when I ask a question, I expect the courtesy of an answer," Thisdudeintheback replies in his best Samuel L. Jackson voice, waving around the loaded gun. "Who is the Black Swordsman? I'm only going to ask it one more time!"
*Crickets chirping* *Somebody coughs*
"Um, Guts, from Berserk," another man speaks up meekly.
A devilish smile appears on Thisdudeintheback's face. "Good man!"
Now, I usually don't dog on too many anime, but I had to do this. I'm not exactly a person who watches SAO, it doesn't interest me all that much. I may give it a try one day, but not right now.
But, when I hear of some little shit calling himself the Black Swordsman other than Guts. I... I just can't hold back. It gives me a headache that our lord and saviour is being disrespected in such a way.
I mean, we don't see Kirito, or whatever the fuck his name is, go missionary style on a demon in the first few pages of his manga. You can't call yourself the Black Swordsman if you haven't done something so badass. Not to mention being impaled and having the shit beaten out of you in pretty much every frame.
You can't compare these two.
Kirito looks like the type of dude who's spine I would have cracked like a glowstick upon doing battle with. He would end up in the pile I have set up with Edward and Ron Weasely.
Guts is simply... Guts.
My reverence for this man is greater than my crippling addiction to anime thighs. To have his name dragged through the mud like this...
(Now, before any of you diehard SAO fanboys get on my case about this and tear into me, I'm joking. I really don't give a shit about it about some kid calling himself that. Different genres and such. So long as he didn't try to go - full on, one-eyed, chad-tier jaw that looks like a fucking sledgehammer on us. Then I would have a problem with it.)
In other news, I finally got this bitch done. I can't believe how long this fucker turned out to be. Almost 11, 400 words in total. My second longest chapter by far.
I had to make it this long. I wanted everything to get wrapped up in a single chapter. That means, all the fun stuff if going to be ahead of us. Not as much serious writing in my future for this fic. That's part of what took so long because of how difficult this chapter is due to the content.
Recently, I also had a discovery. Like, a finding RWBY for the first time discovery. Because that's what got me into all of this and into anime in general.
Dies Irae ladies and gents. You may not have heard of it, but it's on Crunchyroll and it's also a VN.
I have only watched the anime so far, and I have absolutely loved it. The dub too. (I'm a dirty heathen.)
Some of you may disagree with me. I don't give a shit because I enjoyed it. Just on its own without prior knowledge to the story at all, I think it was great.
Because the story is centred around killing Natzis. And what do I love more than killing Natzis? Anime thighs, obviously, but that's a different story. These Natzis have magic on their side and bunch of the Rule of Cool type shit too.
I've heard the VN is supposed to be even better, since the anime is a looser adaptation of it, which means I'm probably going to check it out in the near future.
The only thing I'm going to take from the series is the incantations the characters use in their spells for summoning weapons. I'm going to write my own, since I don't want to use pieces of actual poetry like they did in the story. They'll be a play on the style used by the characters for the purposes of this story, however. I'm not doing the Briah or Atziluth either, because that would take forever to do.
Final things ahead.
Before anybody nitpicks Jaune's actions in this chapter, remember I'm trying to get all this wrapped up as quickly as I can. Accepting you're a vampire would take months or years for a normal person to get over. That said, Jaune is going to be in an even worse place this chapter. So, understand where he's coming from.
Secondly, I'm using a theme for a fight this chapter. You'll know it when you see it. Look it up, and listen to it.
Edit note (1/30/20) Made an edit to a passage of poetry towards the bottom. Made it sound more in line with what I wanted originally.
Go forth, you infernal daemon!
Spill their blood and sacrifice their souls with every stroke of your blade.
Their strength shall only suit to bolster your own.
No chains shall bind your profane essence,
No power shall subdue you on your conquest,
No taboos shall constrain your actions.
On the day of your death, a golden valkyrie will descend upon you to bring you to a warrior's paradise.
Vahalla shall be the final destination of your soul.
Tales of your triumphs will echo all throughout this great hall as your fellow warriors rejoice, waiting for the final battle.
However, if one refuses to perish from this earth, and continues on their unholy crusade; they may even usurp the throne of God.
Render, the Holy Trinity no more.
Sit upon his golden throne, and recreate the world in their own image.
The god's own, 'Day of Wrath,' will soon be upon them.
For they shall be the ones, who wither to ashes.
Jaune awoke to find himself hunched over a piece of furniture. He was surrounded by a black abyss. Nothing else around the boy could be discerned as a recognisable figure. Only his breathing and the white noise emanating from an unknown source perforated the silence. Everything was remarkably still.
Where am I?
He turned around, trying to get a bearing on where he ended up. Jaune wasn't sure how he managed to get here. The last thing he remembered was him sitting in his room.
"Mmmmhmmm..." A soft murmur came from behind Jaune.
It sounded like a small child's. Some muttering one would do in their sleep if they were talking in their dream. Yet, it only brought the feeling of dread to the boy who's ears that sound graced.
No... Please don't tell me I killed someone!
Slowly, Jaune's eyes adjusted to the low light. His vampiric traits seemed to allow the boy to see clearly as if it had been daytime even in near pitch darkness. It was something he couldn't do beforehand.
The room he was standing in was decorated in all manner of items. Small pictures on the walls drawn with crayons, coloured pencils, and markers. Many of whom were of innocent scenes. Toys were prominently scattered throughout the room: on the floor, shelves, and in several bins. A haphazard display of chaos.
He turned around apprehensively, facing the origin of the child's voice. Jaune couldn't bear the thought of having killed another person. But, he had to know if he committed another atrocity. To a child, nonetheless.
Laying on top of the bed was a young girl. She was only a foot away from where Jaune had been standing. Her neck was fully exposed for the world to gaze upon. The covers near the child were ruffled, showing someone had placed their hands on either side of her.
The girl...
She was his youngest sister. Rouge. A ten-year-old child.
I-I...
Jaune felt his fangs retract back into his maxilla. A lump formed within his throat, blocking the airway. Chills ran down his spine, making his hair stand on end. His blood froze at the realisation for what he was about to do.
I was going to kill my baby sister...
He took a step away from the girl. Jaune had to get away from her lest he murders his own blood. Anywhere away from the girl was safer for her and for Jaune. From a monster on the prowl.
Jaune sensed his body's desire for blood. It turned every ounce of his attention towards the child laying a few feet away. He wanted to tear into the girl like a wild animal.
I-I can't stay here!
Invisible claws tore into Jaune's skin, forcefully dragging the boy closer to the bed. Every surface of his body felt like he had been cast into a fire. His control slipping away the longer he remained.
He fled from the room, making sure to quietly shut the door behind him. Jaune couldn't risk someone knowing he had been there. He needed to do everything he could to cover his tracks and vanish.
He turned right, heading towards his room. The door had been cracked open slightly with a ray of light coming through. Where the beast had emerged from its lair.
I thought I shut myself in... When did I come out?
It had been earlier in the evening when Jaune planned to control his urges forcefully. It had been the first and only time he tried this. Jaune had not wanted a repeat of the previous night and thought he could somehow brute force his way past this through sheer willpower alone.
He had been foolish to even try fighting this thirst. Jaune could barely understand what he was in the first place. He didn't have any right to even think he could control the nature of a monster.
Jaune quickly ducked his room and shut the door behind him. He slammed both hands against the oak panel, sealing himself inside and preventing passage.
Not my family... Anyone but them!
He choked on a sob, coming from deep within his throat. Tears welled up at the thought of what he was about to do. Jaune cupped his mouth to form a bulwark, so he would not burst into an inconsolable mess.
Blood...
Blood...
Blood...
Don't try to fight what you are Jaune...
You must slake the thirst...
The only thing you want...
Blood...
Blood...
Blood...
No, I-I can't...
He left the door and turned to his room. There, he grabbed a set of clothes, throwing them on as quickly as he possibly could. A pair of jeans and a hoodie would satisfy for now. He didn't think to take anything else with him.
I have to leave...
Jaune turned to his door, almost reaching for the knob. Yet, he stopped, unable to move any further. Like something froze his feet to the floor.
What if I lose it? I can't go through the house...
If he headed out into the hallway. The smell of blood would lead him to the nearest room. Like a shark to a drop of blood in the ocean. It was exactly like the moment before he killed for the first time.
Jaune turned to the other side of his room. The only other exit was the window. This way, he could avoid his family and put some distance between him and them.
A creature who feasted upon humans traipsed through these woods.
He threw open the hatch leading outside. A simple screen stood between him and his exit. Jaune put a foot to the mesh, throwing it out onto the side yard without care.
He then clambered out onto the sill, grasping the ledge and hanging himself as low as he could. Once he was in place, Jaune let go, plummeting nearly fifteen feet to the ground.
The boy landed hard, tumbling down onto his hands and knees. Yet, he didn't feel any pain from the impact. It was the adrenaline coursing through his veins, keeping his nerves dulled.
He didn't take the time to dust himself off, turning on his heel and sprinting in the direction of the city. The patter of shoes on grass soon turned into clicking on the concrete.
Don't stop! Don't look back...
Tears started pouring from his eyes, staining his cheeks and dripping down off his jaw. A flurry of emotions broke through. Greater sobbing and outright crying followed.
Finally, he reached his breaking point. Jaune couldn't hold back anymore. The thought of butchering his youngest sister like a cow was what did him in. She had almost been the second victim to what he had become.
Pain radiated out from his heart. It throbbed, shook with his breath, felt like he had been stabbed. The red-hot knife Weiss drove into his ribs was nothing compared to this. A feeling of sheer disgust and contempt for himself that Jaune hadn't felt in a very long time.
As Jaune tore through his neighbourhood, a familiar scene played out in his head. It was still a blur, yet in reverse order. The second time he had run home, thinking he could find shelter and gather his thoughts. The first time he had taken a life.
It turned out his solace was nothing more than another lie he told himself. Jaune would have only taken another life if he lived, believing it.
His home was no longer safe while he was there. Jaune could not allow himself to remain when the threat of him lashing out once again remained.
He had to run as far away as possible. Where nobody would follow him. Where his secret would not see the light of day.
...
It had been almost an hour since Jaune fled his home. He ended up somewhere near the port district of Vale. Currently, walking on the sidewalk of a busy street. Cars passing by him every few seconds. Not exactly sure where he was right now.
Jaune waltzed along the path of concrete, dragging his feet with every step. His head hung low as to not meet anybody else's eyes. Only focusing on the ground before him. Silent to the world.
He'd stopped running once he entered the city. There was no purpose in attracting attention from anybody else. Someone he knew might have noticed Jaune sprinting through the streets of Vale. He didn't want them to try stopping him. Especially if he was still lusting after blood.
The boy didn't know where he was going. Jaune never planned that far ahead in this situation. He just went where his feet led him. Forward was the only option available to the boy right now.
Jaune himself was in shambles. His heart ached, face stained with tears, and emotionally exhausted. It felt like he was going to drop dead right there. The only thing keeping his body going was his desire to keep moving.
Right now, Jaune's emotions were a complete mess. He would have picked sadness or something else like that, but there were no words for it. Maybe a jumble of several?
I can't believe I nearly killed her... That voice told me to kill Weiss earlier today too.
What if I did? Why did I stop?
I know what it's like to lose control... But why didn't I kill Rouge?
With everything that happened in the last two days, Jaune believed he would have killed her. That conclusion came from a sample size of one event, but it was enough to think it would have happened. There wasn't enough information to think anything less. There was too much of a risk to believe it wouldn't have happened again.
Yet, the reason as to why he hadn't torn his sister's throat apart was lost on him. He didn't know if he was thankful for it or terrified because of how close he came to sinking his teeth into her jugular. Either way, Jaune nearly committed an act that would have left him regretting it for the rest of his life.
"Heh, maybe somebody is watching out for me," he jokingly said in a bleak tone, continuing down the street.
Must be why I didn't hurt my little sister. God's trying to protect his innocent creatures... Too bad, he didn't say I forgot my wallet.
Vampires are supposed to be a creation of the devil. It only made sense. In all of the lore, that was their origin. Or some kind of disease. Might explain my luck right now.
Bullshit... Your 'God' can't protect that girl. That was all you.
Goddammit...
Jaune sniffed loudly and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. More tears slowly started to replace them. They soon blended with the sweat pouring down his face.
It wasn't a good cry. It did nothing to alleviate the emotions stirring within the boy. Just as crying had done something for Jaune when Weiss had rejected him. These tears were just his body's way of saying things were not alright. It acknowledged the possibility of a hopeless situation.
Likewise, his stomach had a bottomless pit inside of it. The feeling of dread was to thank for that. Or maybe it was the fear that came with having to run away from home? Jaune didn't know.
I can't go back home... If I blackout like that again, I don't know what would happen.
Even if I kill again tonight... it will just happen again and again if I try to stop myself.
Jaune tucked his arms inside the pocket of his hoodie. A gust swept in from the coast, bringing a chill with it. His breath started to condense in front of his face with every exhale. The rest of him felt the breeze as it cut through his clothing.
For the first time in almost a half-hour, Jaune turned his gaze upwards. He looked right to see the urban district of the city off in the distance. A mess of skyscrapers, coming together to form a concrete jungle. To the left, a large suspension bridge cutting across the bay. The superstructure, home to a freeway and rail deck.
If I'm running away from home, might as well take the scenic route.
He had nothing on him but the clothes on his back. Jaune's Scroll and his wallet remained on top of his nightstand. He didn't even think to bring those along. There was no time to grab them, he could feel himself slipping away.
Slowly, the streetlamps began burning even brighter than they had before. The gaps between the lights grew even smaller as he approached the bridge. Large patches of darkness in those spaces soon became washed over with light. There was nothing left for Jaune to conceal himself in.
Sniffing again, Jaune caught a whiff of the sea. That salty breeze mixed air pollution from the city. There was even the distinct smell of car exhaust from the road.
He looked up at the sky.
A beautiful full moon hung high above the world. No clouds stood in its way. It was just a clear backdrop with no stars and the lonely moon on stage. Its brilliant silver colour reflected a bright light down onto the city streets.
From the bridge, Jaune had an excellent view of this event. The bright lamps above him did not in any way hamper his stargazing. Coming up to the first tower of four, Jaune had nothing else in his way. No buildings obstructed him, only the clear sight of the distant moon over the water.
In the bay, no ship passed through the waters at this time of night lest they disturb the irradiant moon's reflection on the water. The faint glimmering trail began on the far end of the bay and continued under where Jaune was standing.
That argent image was not a perfect reflection. It stretched across the entire bay into a more cylindrical shape than spherical. Waves tossed and turned below, rippling the broken image even more.
A night like this would have been great for just sitting out here. Maybe with another person while the two just talked about anything and everything. They could stay out here for hours on this bridge. Nobody would think to disturb their conversation.
Am I really going to do this?
Can I really just run away?
I mean... I have to. It's too dangerous for my little sisters. Anybody else if they got in my way.
I can't let anything happen to them! I'm not a monster - I don't just kill people!
Jaune leaned against the edge of the bridge, overlooking the bay. He glanced down at his hand, clenching it into a fist. His knuckles turned white as the blood rushed out of his veins and back into his arm.
If Jaune decided to return, nobody would be the wiser. However, if he chose to go through with this, everybody would notice his absence. It wasn't that type of situation where nobody would miss the person. He hadn't reached that point yet.
It would probably kill his poor old mother. The idea her son just vanished one day and didn't say goodbye would do her in. She wasn't a young woman anymore. Her body might not be able to handle it. The grief and worry especially.
His sisters would be devastated. They loved their brother, and Jaune knew that. He was the only boy in the family. They either protected him like their kid brother should be or looked up to him. It would take them months before they got over it and maybe not even then.
It would make Ruby sad. The thought wounded gravely like the rest.
She didn't have many friends and Jaune had been her first one at Beacon. Losing a good friend would cause her to cry. For how long? Hours, days, weeks, months even. He was someone who had grown close to her throughout the last few months. Ruby valued those close to her with the utmost conviction.
It would hurt the rest of his friends. Ren and Nora more than the others. They wouldn't know what to do besides try to comfort each other. Helping Ruby would be their priority. The rest would try to sort themselves out.
This was the damage Jaune was going to cause if he went through his plan. People he was going to hurt. All because someone turned him into a blood-sucking parasite that was forced to prey on the helpless.
They couldn't know the reason why. He never left a note explaining that. It would have been just as hard to come up with a bullshit excuse for running off in the middle of the night.
There was no time to write one either. Jaune could still feel his skin burning and his body aching from the thirst digging its sharp claws further into him. Everything hurt so much. The only way to make it stop was to kill someone and drink their blood.
Jaune let his head fall on his left hand as he slumped against the railing. More tears fell from his eyes, staining his sleeves with their salty droplets. He quietly sobbed to himself as he contemplated the avenues ahead of him.
Fuck... I don't want to be a monster.
He swallowed his cries back into his throat just long enough to stand back from the railing. Jaune made his choice. He knew what had to be done.
The monster needed to go away. Lest it remained and continued to hunt those around him, bringing misfortune and pain where ever Jaune dared to tread. He couldn't let himself suffer long enough to figure out a permanent solution, so this was the next best thing.
He took one step forward. Then another, quickening his pace. The third, pushing into a full sprint. Finally, Jaune threw himself with every ounce of his strength over the railing, clearing the steel guard completely.
He only looked once to see where his destination was. Three hundred feet into the water below. It was fast approaching even in the one second he had come over the edge.
Jaune shut his eyes, waiting for the inevitable impact.
His body could regenerate from a single cut. But hitting the water at terminal velocity? Jaune's organs would turn into a fine paste. There was no getting back up from this. He would shatter every bone in his body. If the fall didn't kill him, then hopefully, Jaune would drown quickly.
All he could hear now was the wind rushing past his ears. Jaune's hoodie and jeans flapped, slapping against his legs and arms. His hair flowed backwards, being displaced by the air. The boy's face became chilled by the oncoming wall of wind.
He made whatever peace he could. Jaune had so many things to look forward to if it hadn't been for this. So many things he wanted to try. Places he wanted to go. Maybe a pretty girl who thought the world of him.
Three seconds had passed.
Jaune braced himself for his death. He accepted his choice now. It would be for the best. An instantaneous and painless death that gave a final conclusion to this story. A climax and resolution all packed into one.
Silence would follow for the boy. Should he be so lucky to find an afterlife, Jaune only hoped it turned out to be better than the one he was in now. If not that, then an eternity of nothingness awaited him.
The others would have to pick up the pieces. Jaune had done the hard work. It wasn't their life that had fallen apart. They hadn't turned into a vampire. None of them knew what it was like to drink another human's blood without their consent.
Four seconds.
His heart raced out of fear for what was to come. No amount of contemplation would adequately prepare a person for this. Death was final after all. There was just that tiny bit of anxiety that crept to the top. Enough to scare him.
Every fibre of muscle tensed up. Jaune couldn't breathe anymore. His nervous system numbed to the outside world. The boy's mind raced with so many thoughts, savouring the last moments he had left to him. Images of his friends, fantasies he had longed for, scenes from his favourite moments, and above all, a reflection of how he arrived there.
Five seconds.
It felt like everything had stopped all at once. Time froze at that very moment. Jaune could hear his breathing now. His heart beating out of his chest. The cold air on his skin, refreshing and stimulating the mind.
Am I dead...
Jaune was afraid of opening his eyes. He didn't want to see where he had ended up. His mind contemplated every possibility. Many of the thoughts scared him to death.
His senses did all they could to piece the scene together. Jaune could hear water splashing. He could still smell saltwater and that ocean breeze. No annoying rays of light shined down upon his eyes. Yet he felt nothing else.
As if he was floating on air. Not laying on the beach or dock next to the water. He was just suspended in a void. The pull of gravity still dragging his clothes downwards, but not his limbs.
He finally opened his eyes.
In front of him or in this case below him was the bay. A black lagoon of swirling water sat a foot away from his face. Some splashed upwards towards Jaune as two waves collided. Not a single drop touched him.
The boy was so tantalisingly close to the water. He could almost taste the salt in the air. Maybe this was where he ended up. His ghost or whatever just floated above the water. Jaune's corpse was at the bottom of the bay by now.
However, he could feel his body suspended upside down. As if someone tied him up there with strings in the same position he had fallen.
He turned his gaze to the area around him. Jaune could see Vale off in the distance and even the port with about a dozen ships laying over there. Beyond the bay, a Coast Guard ship was patrolling those waters.
Ok, what's going on...
Jaune tentatively reached out with his hands and pushed himself up. A solid-surface seemed to be where his hands were but was invisible to his eyes. In turn, both of his legs seemed to gracefully fall as he got to his feet.
I can walk on air...
He firmly planted his feet on this 'invisible floor.' Jaune turned around a few more times to understand where exactly he had ended up. Everything seemed to fit with his surroundings.
Jaune looked down at his hands. What he saw took his breath away. His eyes widened, dilating to clarify the image of the limb before him.
His hand was no longer in a corporeal form. It was a black vapour - a cloud of smoke from a fire even. Yet, Jaune could still feel his hand was there. All of his fingers moved upon command, and the sense of touch remained.
That's when he saw the bats.
A swarm of them. Flying around Jaune's body, mimicking the shapes of his limbs. Every one of them seemed to phase in and out of this black smoke. They did this consciously, moving at their own will along with his body.
None of the flying rodents had any distinctive features to them. They were just a black mass in the shape of a bat. Some of them even made a chittering noise like the real thing.
What the fuck!
Jaune's heart began racing once again. He started having a panic attack, hyperventilating, becoming erratic. The boy freaked out, seeing how his body had transformed into something inhuman.
He took one step towards a nearby island. Jaune wanted to get back to land. However, instead of walking, Jaune was literally thrown nearly one-hundred feet to the islet.
The swarm of bats and the black fog sailed along with his body. Right as he reached the patch of dirt, they simply disappeared, leaving Jaune to plummet back to the earth. He flipped once as he made it, landing on his back.
As Jaune slammed back into the earth, he was sent tumbling for several metres. The boy managed to pull his arms close to his body, allowing him to protect his chest. It did little to defend him as he bounced off the soil with every rotation, landing on various debris. His arms came loose, pulled outwards by the centripetal force placed on them. Sharp yelps left his mouth with every successive graze. Eventually, Jaune slowed enough to begin sliding across the soil as his momentum no longer carried him.
Owww...
The wind had been knocked out of him in that harsh landing. His diaphragm contracted and spasmed, not allowing the boy to get a breath in. Every part of his body screamed out in pain from this fall. Throbbing with every heartbeat as his nervous system was set alight.
He rolled over, using the last of his strength to push himself on his hands and knees. Jaune's fingers dug into the silty earth upon which he had landed. Several seconds passed as Jaune did his best to regain his senses.
Jaune coughed once as something got stuck in his throat. Before he could realise it, bile and leftover food rose up as the object irritated his uvula. He made no attempt to stop himself, just letting it happen.
Several more hacks and heaves followed. Jaune once again cleared his stomach of its contents. This time being much more comfortable than the last.
Jaune spat out the rest of foul-tasting substance into the soil beneath him. The taste didn't concern him, he just needed to get the rest of it off his tongue. Small chunks of food were hiding under and on top of the soft muscle.
He took a deep breath, collapsing over onto his back next to the pool of vomit. Most of the pain had gone away by now. The physical pain at least.
Fuck...
I can't even kill myself. How am I supposed to live with this?
Tears began welling up on his lower eyelids. Soon, they were running down the side of his face, mixing with the soil below him. Jaune used his hoodie to shield his eyes momentarily, tucking most of his face into his elbow.
I don't know what to do? I don't want to run away...
I was supposed to die. They would just find my body, and it would be over...
He couldn't live with the idea of not giving his friends and family closure. Jaune didn't know if he could keep himself in control, so he didn't hurt them. Killing himself was supposed to be the best thing that could happen.
Jaune didn't dare to even try that again. There was no way he could muster up that kind of courage for a second attempt. It scared him shitless jumping off the bridge the first time.
His body was shaking, reeling from the leftover adrenaline in his system. Small sobs escaped his mouth every time he went for a breath of air. He felt nauseous by the rush of hormones. It made his stomach toss and turn despite having thrown up once already.
Jaune let his right arm fall back to the ground, leaving his face uncovered. As the hand hit the dirt, it touched water, splashing the salty liquid everywhere. His entire upper sleeve became wet.
Huh...
He looked over to see the islet he had been sitting on was no longer going to be an island. The water was rising slowly enough to not be of any worry, but he wouldn't be able to stay here for long.
I should try talking to Dad... He might be able to give me something.
Jaune needed another plan. He didn't have any good ones. Anything that was feasible and didn't require him to try committing suicide again.
Talking to his father was always an excellent way to get things off his chest. It was how he managed to gather the courage to ask her out. Yet, that unfortunate event was an anomaly on their track record. This was an entirely different animal.
Jaune pushed himself off the floor and onto his feet. He looked around once to see how far away he was from shore. It was too far to swim to the nearby docks.
Can I turn into that cloud thing again?
It allowed Jaune to literally fly for a few feet before it vanished on him. Frankly, it was the only thing he had at his disposal to get back to land. Jaune needed to try summoning it again.
He looked down at his hand, focusing on it intensely. The same way he forced his eyes to transform back into their original colours. Something about it was both unconscious and conscious that allowed him to will his body to perform a change.
Slowly, that hand began dissipating and turning into the black smoke. The first of the bats crawled out from within his arm and began swarming him. Jaune's arm was then encompassed by the fog as the rest of his body began to sublimate.
Before long, every part of his body was turned into his vapour. Jaune took a few seconds to adjust to his new form. It was strange to be like this. It felt different - almost exactly like how his body felt when his eyes shifted colours. Jaune couldn't explain it.
Ok... Let's see if this works.
Fly...
Jaune took one step forward and then another before leaping on the final bound. The boy and the mist were sent up into the air, floating around twenty feet off the ground. Sounds of the bats flapping their wings and chittering followed as they took flight.
He took a glance around him as he acclimated to this new perspective. It kinda felt like he was in some sort of anime where the people can walk on air. But this wasn't some fight scene with magically gifted characters; this was real.
His body was floating for whatever reason Jaune couldn't understand. He wasn't being carried by the bats, nor was he walking up some invisible scaffold. Jaune was simply a flying swarm of bats.
Off to see Dad now... I shouldn't keep him waiting.
Another leap forward and Jaune flew off in the direction of the city. A swarm of bats and vapour left a trail as the slowest of them fought to catch up with the bulk of the mass.
...
Jaune approached his destination from above. It was a sequestered place hidden near a forest. The property was dotted with rows of neatly trimmed trees planted every twenty feet. A large wrought iron fence with spiked tips prevented anyone but its only visitor from intruding on these grounds.
The swarm of bats turned downwards, heading to a specific location in this field. As it came close to the ground, Jaune dispersed the mist, landing on his feet. The momentum forced him to compensate, running a few steps out so he could stop himself.
Straightening his posture, Jaune looked around for his father. It had been some time since he last came here. Usually, he went in the mornings or afternoon when he could actually see.
Having vampire vision didn't help when everything was still shrouded in shadows. So, his context clues for where exactly he needed to go was a bit off. Still, he just needed to look around and retrace his steps.
Where are you at, Dad?
After some searching in the general area, Jaune found what he was looking for. It had actually been a few feet away from where he landed earlier. Luckily, the road leading through the property marked the directions for Jaune. His memory took him the rest of the way.
Standing a few feet away, was a white stone block. A perfect rectangular cube carved from marble. The edges were a bit weathered but were expected. Some green algae or moss had begun growing on the stone as well. Most likely from the landscapers kicking up material when mowing the lawn.
The grave was marked with the name, 'Nicholas Arc.' The date on the tombstone, May 15, 1974 - October 21, 2018. A simple inscription was written below, 'A loving father and husband who died protecting innocents.'
Obviously, Nicholas Arc, Jaune's father, was the owner of this grave.
His dad was a former marine who served until the early two thousands. Early on in his military career, right after graduating basic training, he met Jaune's mother, a college student. They started dating when Nicholas worked up the courage to ask her out. She said yes, and almost a year later, they got married.
Years later, after Nicholas left the marines, being discharged, he got a job with the Vale Police Department. Already, most of the Arc family had arrived and were a bunch of young children running amock. Jaune's mom had become a doctor, and things were going well.
Jaune's dad quickly climbed the ranks to be one of the youngest detectives ever in the city. However, six years ago, Nicholas got a transfer to a department in Florida that offered a better salary. The whole family moved along with him and left Vale behind.
Then last fall, the family had run out of milk needed for one of their breakfasts. Nicholas left to grab some at a nearby grocery store. About an hour later, the family received a frantic call from one of his coworkers. Their father had been shot.
At the grocery store, a young man, the same age as Jaune, had tried to rob the place. Nicholas had attempted to wrestle a gun from the man's hands, and it went off. The bullet entered through his chest at an upwards angle, directly through his heart, killing him almost instantly.
Jaune couldn't remember how much he cried when he learned his father died. It went on for days, maybe. The rest of his sisters were heartbroken, and his mother was inconsolable. Each dealt with it in their own ways.
When they buried their father, the whole family came out to Vale where Nicholas had wished to be buried. After the funeral was done, they headed back to Florida to pick up the pieces.
Months later, Claire decided to pack up everything and leave Florida entirely with the family in tow. She wanted them to start over in Vale, so they could be closer to her husband's grave and back in her home city. That's where Jaune's story in Vale began.
"Hey, Dad..."
Jaune sat down in front of the grave and pulled a leg up to his chest. He let out a slight sigh, taking a minute to think of something to say. The boy had really been improvising this entire time. He had no script to rehearsed lines to throw out there.
"I'm in trouble, and I don't know what to do," he began solemnly. "I nearly... killed Rouge!" Jaune stopped for a second as his emotions started to boil over.
Jaune had no clue how his father would react if he told him this in person. He couldn't know anymore. Probably stupified at the knowledge of vampires being real or maybe even fear towards Jaune? It could have gone anyway.
"I can't even look at people without wanting to drink their blood," Jaune continued immediately after gathering himself. "There's some part of me that wants to, but I can't!" He rested his chin on top of his knee. "If I do it again, I don't know if I can stop."
Every part of his body right now wanted to get up and head back to the city. He was a predator starved for months on end without a single meal. It took every fibre of his being to keep from acting on his needs.
His body felt like the height of an orchestra. Pounding with every beat of the drums and blaring horns. The strings drew the suspense into a chaotic whirlwind of sensations. Everything was at the mercy of the conductor who remained anonymous to everyone, including the person who had to suffer through this ordeal.
"I know you would want me to do the right thing," Jaune rationalised what would have been his father's words. "Try to come clean about everything and turn myself in. But I don't know if I can do that to Mom." He let out a sigh. "This is coming from the guy who just tried to kill himself. But that would have kept everything a secret..." He shifted his legs, crossing them and placing his hands in his lap. "If I tell anybody, they'll just think I'm crazy. Mom won't believe me unless she sees it for herself. But, it's going to break her heart. You know this!" Jaune stood up, leaning towards the grave slightly.
"Maybe, I can try-"
He paused at a sound off in the background. It came directly from the city. Maybe in the suburbs or closer to the urban district. Quite a distance away, but Jaune could hear it clearly.
The boy focused his senses on just that particular sound. It grew clear as he dialled in on it, and tuned everything else out. Finally, it became plain enough for him to make out the words.
"GET OFF ME, HELP!"
It was a woman screaming for help. Jaune didn't know why, but everything seemed to stop at that very moment. He forgot everything that was on his plate for just one moment. Every few minutes or seconds even, another scream followed - another cry, sounding so horrid to Jaune's ears.
"Sorry, Dad... I got to go..."
He leapt into the air, turning into the shadowy mist simultaneously. The swarm of bats turned upwards sharply, climbing to over one-hundred feet in the air. As it reached its climax, the swarm turned again, flying directly towards the city at breakneck speeds.
Jaune didn't know why he was going to look for the source of this scream. Everything that happened tonight wore him down to the bone. Frankly, he really didn't have the energy for this, nor the mental stability. Even his motion sickness was taking a spell on the bench.
It must have been some part of him that couldn't sit on the sidelines and let this happen. It pulled Jaune to abandon the talk with his father in favour of seeing what was going on. Maybe to help the person who was in trouble? That was what his father taught him.
From above, Jaune studied the area where the screams were coming from, trying to locate the exact origin. This area had been a lot like the suburbs around his own house, but closer to the actual city. Like a hundred yards from the concrete jungle.
...
Jaune set down in the middle of a deserted street. He knew exactly where the screaming was coming from. This part of Vale was an almost empty series of developments that had people separated few and far between. That's why no one else had come to the woman's assistance.
But who was attacking her and why? It sounded like two people, not including the woman. Men, from their movements and voices. Yet, their speech didn't indicate they were after anything lewd. At least, that's what Jaune could make out over the woman's shouting.
He turned a corner, approaching the origin of the trio. They were in an alleyway much like the one Jaune had woken up in a week prior. It brought back memories from when this nightmare began. Each of the images from Jaune waking up to him panicking, realising something had happened to him played back in individual snapshots. His tired mind had no wish to relive them, merely ignoring any flashbacks that came forth.
Jaune stood in the centre of the open space before the entrance of the passage. He could see two figures huddling over another, laying on the ground. The woman was crying hysterically, fighting against her attackers.
She clawed at their faces, trying to punch them, get an opening for her to escape. The woman managed to get out of one of the men's grasp but was quickly pinned back to the concrete. The other man straddled her with what looked to be a knife in hand.
"We got a good one tonight!" He leaned down and sniffed her neck. "She smells perfect..."
Jaune started walking towards the men slowly, flipping up his hood to disguise his face. He was going to try scaring both of them away from her. Being caught with your pants down by your ankles next to a girl in an alleyway was not a fashionable look these days.
But the man was right about her smell. It seemed even sweeter than most other people Jaune had run into. Maybe it was something she was wearing? But how could a regular person sense this?
As Jaune grew closer, another stench wafted up to his nose. It reeked of hostility, making the boy do a double-take. Heightening Jaune's own anger at this moment. Even more than seeing two guys jumping a woman in a dark alleyway.
All Jaune could describe this smell as was some form of mildew. It came off both men in bucketloads. Recently, Jaune had never come across this scent. It was a new sensation, but nothing pleasant. He could only detect it within a few feet of the men. Not like any other person who would have given themselves up just by crossing into a twenty-foot radius of him.
Jaune stepped behind the man holding the woman down. He was right next to the guy, almost two feet from his back. The man didn't even seem to notice his presence.
The boy's anger rose with every passing second as he watched the scene taking place before him. It wasn't the men attacking her that brought this on. But the woman's tears being ignored as they did whatever they pleased to her.
To think there were people so cruel in this world. Jaune would have been naive if he didn't know it happened everywhere. Men like these two were monsters. More than he was. Jaune did not take pleasure in what he had done, but they were.
Time to put a stop to this...
Jaune raised his right leg back, cocking his knee towards his chest.
He thrust his foot forward, kick stomping the back of the man's head. A brutal crunching sound rang out from the meeting point, silencing the other parties present.
The force behind the kick was enough to shatter the man's skull with what felt like a light blow to Jaune. He did not intend to go this far - only scaring the man with a love-tap to the back of the head. Jaune had no clue where this strength was coming from, but he was not apologising for it.
The man's head continued beyond the rest of his body. Instead of slumping over, having been knocked unconscious, his neck was flung sharply forward. Bones cracked, tendons snapped, tissue was torn like a piece of paper.
Jaune watched as the thug's head separated itself from the rest of his corpse. The thin tissue holding the spine and skull together snapped like a rubber band. Blood flowed freely from the severed veins in his neck, spurting outwards with every beat of the man's heart. Much of it landed on the woman below.
The head, free from its bodily chains rolled almost twenty feet away with a trail of blood following. All that remained was a short section of the spinal column, jutting out from within his thorax and the shredded pieces of flesh hanging off his neck.
The newly created corpse fell off to the side, spilling more blood onto the ground in a small pool. It twitched momentarily, stopping after a few seconds. That strange smell seemed to dissipate almost immediately.
Now for the other...
He turned to face him. The man fell onto his back, dropping the knife. He seemed to be afraid of Jaune. Breathing heavily, sweating, unable to move in the presence of a real monster. Jaune could smell the fear radiating off the man.
You thought you were all tough shit a few seconds ago! What happened?!
Jaune's eyes shifted colours, and his fangs elongated as he approached the thug. A toothy smile revealed his sharpened teeth, creating an intimidating image to behold.
The man let out a yelp and shielded himself from the vampire. Said creature stopped, having been satisfied with the reaction. Jaune took a step back, waiting for the man to run off.
After a few seconds, the thug stared up at the boy, seemingly unsure of what was happening. He opened his eyes to reveal two black scleras and accompanying orange irises. Those same eyes widened as they met with Jaune's.
His eyes...
He's a vampire...
Jaune halted as the thought crossed his mind. There were so many questions that came forth at this moment. Every single one of them could be answered by this man. He must have known what he was too.
"You're... like me," Jaune opened up more calmy this time. "You're a vampire too?" He took a step forward with his hand out, hoping to pull him to his feet. Everything that man had done moments ago was ignored entirely.
As Jaune moved forth, the man crawled backwards away from him. He kept fleeing, looking to be having a panic attack, eventually backing into a brick wall. The thug seemed to realise he had nowhere else to go.
"What's wrong," Jaune asked curiously, unknowing of the man's issues.
He took another step, closing the gap. The man stood up, pressing himself flat against the wall behind him.
"Get the fuck away from me," he shouted in fear. His eyes shifted back to what Jaune knew were his true colours. Two white scleras and brown irises stared at him in an expression of horror.
Woah...
Jaune took a step back, unsure as to the man's anxiousness. It may have been due to him killing his friend accidentally, but Jaune was only protecting the woman. The man should have been angry or downright furious at Jaune for that. But why was he so afraid of him?
Behind him, the woman was trying to pull herself to her feet. Jaune glanced back, momentarily, to assess her condition. She seemed all right. Just a few bruises on her arms and maybe a scrape.
Suddenly, the man took this opportunity to flee from the scene. Jaune didn't notice until it was too late as he began running off in the direction where the other man's head had landed.
Fuck...
He was about to go after the man, but his concentration shifted elsewhere. To the woman standing next to him, still dazed from her injuries. The smell coming off her drew Jaune in. His mouth salivated, spit pouring out from the corner of his lips.
Heh... Why not finish the job? She's right there. Why not take a bite to drink?
All it takes is a little bit of blood, and everything goes away.
I'm not...
Jaune tensed up, dragging his mind away from the girl. He turned around in the direction where the vampire had run off to. It was enough to force his body to relinquish control.
"You should go home," Jaune commanded to the girl weakly. "Don't make any stops, don't tell anyone what happened here, just run."
"Oh - ok," the girl gave a meek response, grabbing something off the ground. A quick series of clicking from her boots followed as she sprinted from the alleyway.
Once she was gone, Jaune focused his efforts on finding the vampire.
He needed to find him. Jaune had some questions he wanted to ask. The boy didn't even spare a thought about the corpse lying a few feet behind him. He was only but a stone on the side of the road. Nothing of significance compared to this discovery.
Jaune took off in a sprint, following the scent left in his trail. It still smelt of fear. A powerful odour at that. Enough to follow the man so long as the smell remained.
...
Jaune whipped around a corner at a full sprint. He momentarily lost his footing, sliding to his right before he regained traction. A nearby wall stopped him from falling, which in turn, he used a launchpad to push off of.
He felt no exhaustion anymore, just a rush of energy at the chase. Jaune had no idea where this was coming from. A few minutes ago, the boy had been struggling to just stand up. Now he felt like he could run a marathon.
Come on... Slow down a bit. I just want to talk!
His focus was zeroed in on the man running one step ahead of him. Jaune could hear his footsteps, but could never seem to get an eye on his quarry. The trail of trashcans and knocked over debris gave Jaune an obvious path to follow regardless of the smell.
The reason for Jaune's persistence in this matter was obvious. There was someone else who understood what it was like to be a vampire. He had to have felt the same urges as Jaune did. That constant thirst for blood, dragging him ever closer to attacking his fellow man.
It also meant there had to be others. Both of those guys smelled the same. One could have turned the other, or there were more vampires than just those two, and they each had a similar scent. Maybe there was a group of vampires he could go to for help? Or perhaps a more experienced person on the matter?
Someone had to know something about the need for blood or even the knowledge for a cure to vampirism altogether. Jaune needed that information, especially, if he wanted to live a normal life. If he only had not let the man escape, then Jaune wouldn't be chasing him through a bunch of dark alleys.
The thought of losing him pushed Jaune to sprint even faster, tearing down the alleyways. Scraps of papers got caught up in the displaced air, getting tossed into the air. Jaune's hair was drawn back from the sheer speed at which he ran.
Another corner rounded, Jaune caught a glimpse of the man. Likewise, he turned around to see the boy on his heels. His solution was to knock over a trashcan to make an obstacle. He then disappeared behind a wall leading to a side street.
Jaune lept over the hurdle easily, landing at a slightly slower speed. It didn't matter as Jaune made up for the lost second or two. He refused to lose the Vampire just because of this.
...
As Jaune continued chasing the man, they approached the city once again. The man was now a few feet ahead of him. So tantalisingly close, he could almost taste him.
Jaune reached out to grab his shirt but narrowly missed. The man sped up, running just out of his grasp. A curse flew from his lips as he switched gears, pulling a few more feet ahead. Jaune did the same, forcing his legs to catch up.
The Vampire passed another passage, running towards a busy street. Jaune was going to lose him if he didn't knock him down right now. He needed to do something.
Before Jaune could put any plan into action, another person walked out from the passage. The Vampire passed by him, narrowly missing a collision with him, but Jaune wasn't so lucky. He slammed into the man at a full sprint, knocking him on his ass and sending Jaune tumbling forward, landing on his stomach.
He slid for a few feet through pieces of gravel and whatever trash lay on the ground. For the second time tonight, Jaune had the wind knocked out of him and rendered unable to move. He could do nothing but watch the other vampire run out on the busy street and disappear completely.
His trail was now muddled by the hundreds of people walking around on the sidewalk. There was no way Jaune would be able to find him now. So, much for getting some information.
"FUCK," Jaune shouted, slamming his fist onto the ground.
To say he was pissed was an understatement. Jaune was enraged by this loss. He staked so much on just trying to catch the guy. Yet, Jaune still bungled the job and lost everything. Now he was back to square one.
He needed to figure out his next move and formulate a plan from there. Jaune wasn't sure where he was going to start. Interrogating that vampire had been the only sure thing the boy had going for him.
I need to think of something... I still can't go back home. I don't know what I'll do if I try.
Jaune was about to push himself off the ground and dust himself off when he felt two sets of hands grab onto him. They yanked the boy off the ground and threw him away from the street towards the interior of the alley. Jaune managed to catch himself and not be tossed on his back as he came to a stop.
In front of him looked to be about five or six guys. The shady looking types. Something that qualified for a street gang in this day and age. Each wore some kind of bandana or signifying mark that told others of their affiliation. In their hands, they each carried bottles of alcohol, seemingly drunken out of.
"Watch where you're going you, little punk-ass bitch," the leader it seemed, a taller male, spoke up, slurring heavily. He paused for a second as he got a look at Jaune. "The fuck is wrong with you?!"
Jaune realised he hadn't shifted his eyes back to their normal colours. They knew something was up, and obviously didn't like what they were seeing. They might have thought he was some kind of faunus.
Fuck...
"Listen," Jaune began, trying to start with diplomacy. "I don't want to fight you guys, please let me go. You don't want to be around me, right now."
Jaune didn't have time to be dealing with them. He was on a mission, and he intended to complete it. These guys were just another obstacle in his way.
He couldn't tell them he was a vampire either. It would have been simple to spit it out right there. Yet, Jaune didn't know if they would believe him. They were looking for a fight.
Jaune was ready to turn into the mist at a seconds notice in case this situation went downhill. They would be freaked out, but everyone would be able to leave unharmed.
"He's some kind of freak," another gangster spat with a lighter slur on his lips. The others seemed to agree with him. "A dirty faunus!"
"We don't like your kind here," a third man spoke up immediately, pulling out what looked to be a blade. The rest of the men were starting to get just as agitated, reaching for their own weapons.
Jaune backed up, hoping to vanish into the darkness. He knew where this was going. They didn't understand what he was.
A beer bottle came flying out from the crowd. Jaune brought up his arms to shield himself from the flying object. It shattered completely as it hit his right forearm. Small bits of glass went everywhere, hitting Jaune in the face, getting inside his hood, and even his hair. The spot where it broke screamed out in pain, quickly numbing itself as adrenaline surged forth. It broke his concentration, preventing him from just fleeing.
These men were looking to kill him. It must have been a natural reaction from humans and faunus in the face of a monster. They didn't understand what they were seeing, yet, their prejudices took over from rational thought. In this case, their abhorrence towards another race mixed with their inebriated state drove them to attack.
One of the men charged forward with a knife in hand. Jaune readied himself to attempt dodging the attack. However, in that instant, time seemed to stop altogether.
They going to try killing you...
But you're too weak to fight, Jaune...
It's always been that way...
It's how Weiss saw you from the day you two first met...
Why Cardin fucked with you and did whatever he wanted...
Why people humiliated you for fun...
You were too pathetic to do anything about it...
I'm not weak! I don't want to fight!
This teasing voice inside his head stirred Jaune's rage to a white-hot flame. It knew exactly where to poke and how to make it hurt. Just like everyone that looked down on him.
Then show the world you're no weakling!
Because these guys won't back down...
They'll just kill you...
And it would make Ruby sad hearing her friend was beaten to a pulp by some losers!
Then again, maybe if you ran off - you might run into your little friend and have a snack...
No...
What about your sisters? Try running home, and the same will happen to them. That would just break your poor old mother's heart...
I won't hurt them...
Then embrace what you are, Jaune...
If you want to protect what's yours...
A flash of light erupted from within Jaune's hand. It blinded everyone in the alley, each shielding themselves with their hands. All except for Jaune, who stood there with his arm stretched out. Palm open, containing an object.
In the boy's hand, a fireball had begun taking form. Slowly, moulding itself into shape, changing colours, becoming a solid mass. It elongated into a flattened form, burning white-hot like the fire stirring within the boy. The piece drew itself out, transforming into a noticeable cross shape with a pointed tip.
Finally, it cooled, showcasing the piece that had been forged. A beautiful sword with a blade as white as the moon itself. It almost seemed to glow even in the low light. Shining faintly in the dark alleyway.
Below the razor edge was a golden crossguard. Seemingly constructed and polished to a mirror's sheen by a master. A pattern carved into the guard was simple, yet appealing to the eyes. Same for the pommel as it matched both in colour and design.
Jaune grasped at the blue hand grip. It almost seemed to mould to his hand, conforming to the boy's fingers and palm as if it were clay, yet, retaining its stiffness.
The sword was balanced perfectly. It felt like an extension of his own arm. Jaune marvelled at the pure beauty of the blade before something inside of it spoke to him.
My shackles crumbled before me.
Their chains decaying with a phantom's touch.
I watched as the figure fled into the shadows.
A sensation left in its wake most astounding.
Something nary experienced by mortals in life.
Their touch, their scent, their kiss.
It all came to me in memory.
A dream most wonderous, most decadent to the soul.
Suddenly, the world seemed to reform from this profane darkness surrounding me.
At that moment, I lost this feeling.
This rapture leaving a scar upon my heart.
I then promised myself to seek out this sensation,
So that I may once again feel their grace.
To behold their beauty once again.
To protect that destiny to which I am seeking,
I promised that none would stand to oppose me.
Their wills would wither and rot into dust.
The strings of fate would even be cleaved in twain.
This most unholy of benedictions would be given form.
Crocea Mors. Most blessed.
Arise and do your master's bidding.
Jaune grasped the blade in both hands. He cocked it back, entering the tail guard. Without any notice, it sprung forth, cleaving the man before him into two halves at the waist.
The way Jaune felt as he held this sword was as if he had been wielding one his entire life. He knew everything about swordplay. Each of its more elegant movements: guarding, parrying, and stances. Including how to reply to any attack, whether it be from a fellow blade wielder to a man with a gun.
Such knowledge came from within the blade as it spoke to him.
After it had been forged from his desires. From a need to protect his life from himself. This sword would be the tool to see to that end.
He would become a vampire. It was the only option left to him. He could not kill himself before and wouldn't make an attempt again. Jaune refused to tear himself away from his home and friends to live the life of a vagabond.
He was going against everything he had ever been taught. But who could prepare themselves for being turned into a vampire? No moral lesson could answer that.
Jaune would continue searching for answers, however. He needed to understand what he was and how to control it. Maybe, he could live a new life as a vampire? A peaceful one if he mastered his nature. Perhaps finding a way to make up for his actions.
He would not let his nature get the best of him. Jaune was going to fight to maintain his humanity. Even if that meant having to kill others to satiate his thirst for blood. Such was the cost of this transaction.
The man in front of Jaune fell to the ground in two pieces. His upper half liquidated all of its fluids onto the cold concrete of the alley, intestines spillings out their contents and even entire sections of the tract. The man's legs remained standing, spurting blood from the severed arteries within. It collapsed to its knees after a few short seconds before slumping over.
His friends seemed apprehensive as Jaune stood before them with the bloodied length of Crocea Mors in hand. A cold look on the Vampire's face, contrasting with the burning coals for eyes. They seemed afraid, yet still wanting a fight, unsure of who was going to be next.
That's one! Who's next...
Two more gang members stepped forth. One with a tire iron, and another with a chain in hand. They stood there for a moment before sharing a glance and rushing forth.
The man with the chain swung it towards Jaune's face. It was move seen from a mile away. The Vampire quickly stepped backwards, allowing the other man to overextend himself and tumble forwards.
Behind him, the man wielding the tire iron swung towards the back of his head. He held in both hands like a baseball bat, trying to get the most damage out of the improvised mace as he could. An average person would have been killed immediately by a glance from this metal rod.
Jaune reached over his back, parrying the blow from behind. He flicked his wrist, catching his opponents weapon on his sword in a parry. Riposting in the same move, Jaune flung the mace to the other end of the alley with just the blade of his sword.
He whipped around, decapitating the chain wielder with an upward stroke to the left. Jaune then spun back to his friend, grabbing his sword in both hands. He performed a pirouette, slicing downwards, taking off the man's hand in a clean slice.
Two!
The thug had no chance to scream out in pain before Jaune twisted the blade in hand, sweeping from right to left, cutting the man's head clean off. A jet of blood erupted from the open wound as face riddled with the expression of pain and terror fell to the floor.
Three!
Without pause, Jaune rushed forth towards the rest of the gang, phasing into the black mist. They had no reaction or even words to accompany their terrified screaming. One of the men fell on his back, the others tried to step to the side.
Jaune rematerialised into his corporeal form, thrusting his blade into the nearest body. The gang leader fell instantly, pierced through the heart from behind as he tried to flee. Half of the bastard sword punched out through his chest, easily visible from the other side of him.
Four!
Withdrawing the blade immediately, letting his body fall to the floor. Jaune turned to the other man still on his feet. He let out a yelp, falling backwards against the brick walls bordering the alley.
Jaune thrust Crocea Mors deep into the man's chest, impaling him with the sword. The blade did not stop there, embedding itself into the mortar just on the other side.
The thug struggled for several seconds as the last bit of blood spilt out from the wound in his chest. He tried pulling the blade out to find he had no strength left in him. Fell unconscious, he slumped towards Jaune, sliding down the remaining length of the blade.
Five.
Jaune yanked the blade from the wall and the body. The corpse fell to the floor, splashing in the pool of blood. He lay prone, motionless, still adding to the ever-growing stain on the floor below.
The last man tried getting up, crawling backwards away from Jaune. The boy, in turn, walked towards him slowly, holding his blade pointed towards the ground. The thug was now hyperventilating. Out of fear most likely, or some medical condition.
He turned over, pushing himself up onto his feet and bolted towards the street. The man quickly gained distance from Jaune. Two metres, four, six. He seemed so eager to abandon the conflict of which he had been the aggressor.
Too bad.
The man never reached the street. Just two feet from safety. A hand reached out from behind him and clamped itself around his mouth, silencing him. Another grabbed his arm, bending it painfully into a gooseneck, preventing any unwanted fighting back.
Finally, before the man realised it, he was dragged back into the alley. Two sharpened points buried themselves into his neck. He didn't know what was happening to him. Soon, his vision blurred. He felt his consciousness slipping away from him.
Jaune dropped the man soon after he died. No more blood was left in his system that could easily be withdrawn. He turned to the other corpses lying in the alley. His bloodlust still needed satiating.
Fucking, finally. I can go play some ARK now. I also have a test next week to study for. So great.
I also have two unfinished chapters that still work done on them too. For my other stories. I got like halfway done on them and ran out of time so I had to move onto something else.
Also, Raven was the Murder Hobo. I think it was pretty obvious. That bitch looks like a vampire. A very thiccc looking vampire.