Words Count: 4829
A/N: Night came and my mood just took a dip for some reasons… Oh-Well, here's the Ep.
Here's my usual spiel:
You can read from Episode 92 to 111 (And 12 Eps of the Sequel – Fate: False Sovereignty. Episode 12 incoming) in advanced. The Tier starts from as low as 1USD, try it out!
P a tr e on . com (/) LiamThePoor
Alan McGee shot awake, sweats covering his forehead. Swiftly, his hands made their way to his chest, clutching his chest in a futile effort to slow and stabilize his rapid-heartbeats…
Memories of his dreams- Nay, nightmares caused his throat to tighten and his tongue to salivate, the deliciousness of those crimson streams still overwhelming his taste-buds. Gingerly, the American reached for the drink left for him on the table, the refreshing coolness that should have satiated his thirst feeling like naught but mercury to his mouth,
And the foods- the sludge-like pudding they handed all patients did nothing to stop his newfound hunger for the precious red life-water that coursed through the bodies of his fellow humans… Could he even call them that now? Alan wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but given what he had already experienced, he's aware there was one explanation and one explanation only that could make sense of his new… Appetite.
Everywhere he looked, Alan saw not humans, not people trying their best to help him recover, but foods. Deliciously appetizing foods that made his gums ache painfully and his fangs lengthen like that of an animal- a predator. In spite of his efforts, the intrusive thoughts, not his but someone else's kept hammering on the barrier of his mind, telling him tear through the entire hospital with an inhumane, bloodthirsty voice,
Whispering sweet nothing, ordering him to obey, to lose himself in the sensation, and parts of him wanted to… Parts of him– The dumbest parts screamed and raged at him to surrender and dedicate his Body, his Soul to the 'Master'.
Of course, Alan McGee realized what was happening,
And he also knew he didn't have much longer before the last vestige of Humanity faded and he became just another of the Vampire's many unwilling slaves. His gaze landed on his nails, sharpened and dark like that of a dog's, then he soon turned his attention to the small piece of paper in his pocket. Alan hadn't bothered to ask the teenager for his name, but judging from what was written on the paper, it must be Leo.
"Leo… Huh? I must have really fucking lost it." The tourist snickered to the empty Room.
He must have truly gone mad to trust a boy with tracking down and killing an actual bloodsucking Vampire with Superhuman Strength and everything, yet something kept telling him the boy wasn't playing with him. It could be the gravity of the situation, or perhaps it was the odd scent that lingered around him, that of herbs and an ambience he couldn't quite explain.
To put it simply, the boy had smelled nice…
No, that's not exactly it.
That made him sound like a gay-pedo,
The correct way to put it was, he had smelled more delicious than practically everyone Alan had met since he woke up from the short coma he was put in.
"Here goes nothing, I guess."
What else did he have to lose? Thus, after rising to his feet, his movements containing not a hint of hurt or injuries as he strode to his clothes, left in the moonlight that brightened the Room he was in, Alan McGee threw on his outfit in a flurry of motions, faster than the normal, untrained eyes could ever hope to see. According to the hospital staffs, he was not cleared to be discharged, but who cared?
What were they going to do? It wasn't like they could legally confine him in the hospital anyway, and if they tried, Alan would make sure they'd be drowned in so much lawsuits, their grandchildren were going to feel the after-effects. Thus he set off, grabbing a mask on the way when he noticed the looks people sent him. In fact, the press had visited him in droves this morning,
Not that Alan had much to share,
And even if people did think Americans were stupid, the tourist was not, he had made sure there was no way in Hell tale of the Butcher being a vampire could leak. Why? Who'd have believed him? The most likely and expected scenario was they thought he was traumatized by the experience and let him go with a few bottles of medications to 'calm' him, just in case.
Hah! As if mentally-altering drugs had ever helped anyone.
The other equally likely and much, much worse scenario was they put a label on his back- a label of insanity, sent him to an Asylum, close the door shut and threw away the Key. Both were not something he wanted, even with his Humanity under constant assaults, Alan still had hope. Hope that he would regain it once a wooden stake was driven through that damned Vampire's cold, Undeath heart, and he could not achieve that while stuck in a hospital.
Hell, what could the hospital possibly do for him anyway?
Stop the vampirism from progressing? Hah! Fat chance of that happening.
His pace was brisk, yet not too hurried as to not draw unwanted attention,
Once he was in the Waiting-Room, Alan immediately made his way to the phones, the piece of paper ready in his hands. It took no time for him to dial the number, even less to hear someone pick up.
"Mr. McGee, I assume you're well and ready?"
"I'm not sure about well, but… I am as ready as I can be." Alan joked, a futile attempt to distract him from the voices violently screeching in his head. "So, where and when can we meet?"
There was a short second of silence on the other side, before the teenager said cockily, "I'm already here, Mr. McGee. Please meet me on the roof of the hospital, I'm waiting for you there."
"Alright, I'm on my way."
Their exchange was curt, short and polite, and wasn't that all that was necessary between two men on a mission?
"But- Uhmmm… Can't you just come down instead? I think it will cost less time, we'll have to go downstairs regardless, right?"
The teenager chuckled. "No, Alan- Can I call you Alan? Well, I'm doing it anyway. But, as I was saying, we're not going to go through the front door, we're using the roofs."
"You mean–"
"Yep, how good are you at parkouring?" Now, Alan couldn't be sure, but he had a feeling the teenager was teasing him.
He drawled, deadpanning. "Not very, given my lack of experience with the… Sport?"
"Then I'll have carry you." Immediately, Alan's mind wandered to an image of him being princess-carried through the Sky. It was quite the romantic sight, and the tourist would have appreciated it if not for the fact he was the recipient, and the one carrying him was a male teenager. "… Can't we just travel the normal way? You know, using car or bike or–"
"Night has fallen, and the clock's ticking, Mr. McGee." With that said, the teenager cut off the call abruptly, leaving Alan utterly baffled and even somewhat angry as he huffed. "What a cocky little shit, you're lucky I need your help."
— [Fate: DML] —
I wasn't going to princess-carry him obviously. There were a few reasons for that,
Firstly, that's gay as fuck. The only people I'd even consider giving a ride in my arms were curvy and beautiful women, and that's only if they passed all the criteria, which was simple enough: Not being my enemy.
Secondly, since Alan McGee was turning into an Apostle, or a variant of Ghoul, there was no way in Hell I was letting him anywhere near my neck. That's just asking to get my throat torn out in chunks by his teeth, not to mention with how infectious this strain of Vampirism had proven to be, I did not wish to put my immune system against it, High Human or not.
My Humanity was the priority here, and not because I had some sort of sentimental feelings about it. Bloody Hell, I had practically thrown it away the second I was offered the option to become an upgraded and better version of Mankind. No-No, my need for Humanity was not out of some sentimental reasons, nor some ridiculous pride I felt for it,
And believe it or not, it wasn't for Gil either… At least not entirely.
The Clock Tower was a place known for its lax zero-tolerance policies and inclusivity– Pffftt, couldn't even do it with a straight face. The gist of it was anything and everyone non-humans were considered fair-game to the Mages and Apostles were universally despised.
Again, not because the Mages treasured their Humanity, but because they considered Apostlehood an unworthy shortcut, despite all the benefits it offered: Longevity, Regenerative Healing Factor,…etc.
To them, being able to change and mold the World itself to their needs and desires was the goal, and if you had to modify and in some more extreme cases, severely mutilated your Body and Soul to achieve that, then it was no longer an achievement to pride themselves upon. It was thanks to this mentality that only the rarest few of the Moonlit World ever sought Apostlehood, thankfully.
Yet it also left lasting consequences, mainly racism, so…
Back to the matter at hands, I wasn't going to carry Mr. McGee in my arms, and I should limit the use of the Elder Blood as much as possible, which meant I was going to have to carry him by the nape like a cat. Would be quite the experience, indeed.
Soundlessly, I jumped on the metallic banister and sat, legs kicking back and forth to entertain myself. According to the Map, Mr. Alan was but two floors away, a distance which should not take him too long to cover especially with the… New changes.
'Just enough time to light a cigarette.' Nicotine didn't do shit for me anymore, yet not having smoke in my mouth for a while did feel rather lacking. Yes, I was an addict, fucking sue me. I was about to take that smoke-break when a flash caught my attention- something or rather, someone was sneaking around in the hospital courtyard. That flash? It was its- her eyes. A crimson that reminded me of Anne-Marie, but different. "As expected…"
More… Vicious and cruel,
Even from here, it was visible to my sight…
A sadistic glint hidden just beneath those glamorous, ruby-like orbs,
A beautiful façade to cover up the monstrosity underneath.
"An Apostle?" No, not quite. It did possess Supernatural characteristics, yet it was far too slow and weak to be an Apostle, its motions too clumsy compared to the few Bloodsuckers I had had the pleasure to meet.
"A variant of Ghoul then?" It was climbing up the walls, while another of its kind moved towards the security-room, likely to shut off the cameras monitoring the hallways and wards, which was fine and dandy with me. Having the cameras shut off would give me much leeway to fight and display my prowess without the worry of being witnessed and seen. Hence, I promptly ignored the Ghoul, focusing on its partner-in-crime instead.
From here, I could clearly see it trying to sneak up on Alan, its movements and directions indicating it could sense him through the connection to their Master. I waited and waited, not wanting to show myself just yet until it jumped on Alan's back, its sharpened teeth aiming straight at the side of his neck. Alan, not to be outmatched, slammed his fist against its cheek, sending the Ghoul tumbling on its side.
This was a nice opportunity to evaluate their prowess, and see how much hold the Apostle had on its Ghoul-underlings, mainly Alan. I watched as they charged at each other in a flurry of limbs and motions, clawing, biting, kicking and launching punches at one another with little to no regard to their own safety and wellbeing. Sadly… It would appear Alan was no match for the more experienced of the two.
"Right… 'Bout time I intervene, isn't it?" Just as its claws were about to puncture his throat, a strike that would have probably shattered his spine on contact, I decided to leap in. Without a hint of hesitation in my movements, I swiftly projected a steel-pipe, hurling it with precision and enough force to pierce straight through the Apostle, nailing it to the wall behind. "Oh-No, not on my watch, ya' cunt!"
And pierce it, the pipe did…
Wait, that sounded wrong.
I meant, the pipe- it- I… Urgh, never mind.
The pipe drove itself into the Ghoul's shoulder, not because I missed or anything, but because that's exactly where I had intended to aim, and there was a reason for that. While the Ghouls were… Well, rather easy to dispatch from what I had seen of them, I did not want to spook the Apostle into hiding. What was that one Chinese saying again?
'Playing the pig to eat the tiger', was it?
Then, I bolted down from the roof, clinging to the side of the building like a monkey, scaling it and running horizontally on the wall, another steel-pipe already in hands waiting to hit the Ghoul. The previous one I had thrown had punched right through the glass, leaving a tiny, circular hole there. Breaking the entire glass-panel would cause a lot of commotions, but I didn't care, it wasn't like we're going to stay for people to arrive anyway.
That thought in mind, I shattered the glass-panel using the pipe, leaping through the broken window with ease and landing into a crouch. By this time, the Ghoul had freed itself from the pipe nailing it in place, and was in the process of attempting to lead its fangs to Alan's legs as he lashed out at it, kicking the Monster in the head. Their fight was not a glamorous thing, it did not contain the elegance and flair Geralt and Ciri possessed, nor the crude and simple, yet efficient fighting style I had.
It was clumsy, messy- a tangle of limbs, punches and kicks that made no sense. Alan would punch when it was easier to kick, and kick when he should have clearly gone for a jab instead.
It was a blight to my eyes,
Hell, a blight to every fiber of my being, watching someone fight with so little regard for efficiency,
Yet it was sort of beautiful in a way,
Alan wasn't fighting to win, he wasn't fighting show how cool or badass he was,
He was fighting in a way to make his opponent hurt, a primal and overwhelming rage that burnt brighter and hotter than any Star in the Sky.
"Goddamn…" I could only exclaim as his hand, straightened and unflinching, pierced right through the Ghoul's gaping, wide-open maws, penetrating the fleshy layer of its nape with little effort. "Fuck you. Fuck you. FUCK YOU! Eat shit, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"
Even as his opponent laid there, a broken mess, its face resembling a pile of minced meats, Alan refused to stop stomping on the bloody pile. Thankfully, the power-outage seemed to have drawn all attention from this side of building as the staffs rushed to get it back on, fearful for their patients. "Uhmmm… You alright there, Mr. McGee?"
His breaths were rough and harsh as he brought his hands, still bloody and covered in crimson juices, to his mouth. There were even chunks, likely the Ghoul's organs in there. Grimacing, I touched his shoulder, trying to stop him from drinking the bloody smoothie, only to back a few steps away when he glared, eyes bloodshot and filled with an insatiable hunger for flesh and bloods. "Get your hands off me!"
Now, at this point, I usually would have lopped his head off, but I needed him still.
Trying to locate a rogue Apostle in a City as large as Paris was a real pain, and would have taken far too long for my comfort, yet I couldn't tolerate the disrespect either.
In my experience, acting meek and humble was the perfect way to have someone sit on your head, thus…
* Bang
"Ouch!" A clean leg-sweep was more than enough to fell him, and soon, I was resting the heel of my foot on his throat, restricting the airflow to his lungs while Alan desperately tried to push me away. "Have you calmed down? Or do I have to continue with the beating?"
"I- I'm calm, I'm calm! Ge- Get your foot off me, dammit!"
"Alright…" I said, slowly lifting my foot from his throat. "But if you even so much as try to attack, I'll yank out all of your newly-grown fangs, you hear me?"
Only after making sure he wasn't going to lunge for my neck did I step away. I'd have offered him a hand, but I'd rather my extremities remain in place and not someone's mouth as a chew-toy. "Fuck, man… Did you really have to hit that hard?"
Alan cursed, rubbing the back of his head in an effort to alleviate the pains.
"I did." Nodding, I answered matter of factly, before deciding to go into details about my reason. Again, I needed his cooperation, and if I had to play nice for it, I was more than willing to comply. "You were about to drink its bloods, which from what I know of Ghouls, would have accelerated the process of your transformation, you should thank me if anything."
He said, eyes widening once his mind was able to properly process the information I casually gave as he questioned. "I guess– Wait, wait a fucking minute, you knew?!"
I rolled my eyes. "Of course I do, what kind of Vampire Hunter would I be if I can't even recognize the first signs of developing vampirism? Speaking of which, how do you feel about sunlight? Does it burn you or…?"
He coughed, rubbing his throat. "It feels somewhat uncomfortable, but not unbearably so. Gives this, this tingly feeling on my skin, like ants or bugs are crawling on the parts exposed to the light. Beyond that, I'm starting to experience bloodthirst and- I don't know, aching in my gums?"
Silently, I stared at him, searching for any sign that might be suspicious, when I found none, I spoke. "So slight sensitivity to sunlight then? That means you should still have days before the process finishes, just long enough to help me hunt down this Vampire."
That was a lie, each Apostle was different, some were more infectious than others, some required at most hours to turn someone into their eternal slave– AKA, a Ghoul. It all depended on who was bitten, how strong their Willpower was and who their… Sire was. For all I knew, he could turn midway while we were jumping rooftops, but for obvious reasons, I could not tell him that.
After all, a hopeful worker was always more efficient than a hopeless one. "If you knew, is there a way- a method or something to stop its progression?! Anything will do! I just need this thirst to stop… It's- It's getting stronger, I can feel it clawing its way into my mind. It is taking everything from me to not lunge at your throat, right now. Doesn't help you smell thousands of times better than everyone else."
"There are ways to slow it until we're able to kill the Progenitor of your Line, but…"
"But what?!" He hastily asked, violently grabbing my shoulders.
I wasted no time pushing him off, backing away. Perhaps his mind hadn't completely deteriorated, but how could anyone fault me for being weary of a creature who had openly admitted he wanted to tear out my throat and feast on my bloods? Sadly, Alan didn't seem to understand that, looking quite upset at my rejection. "You need Holy Objects… And by that I meant Objects blessed by a God, which are extremely rare and practically impossible to get without the proper contacts."
"Then what the Hell can I do?! I don't to be like that!" He exclaimed, pointing at the pile of minced meats on the floor, brain-matter spilling to the clean marbles like dyed, strawberry yogurt. I shrugged at the question, cracking my neck. "We can only kill your Sire and hope for the best. I don't want to sound discouraging, but that's our only option at the moment."
"Fuck–!"
"Enough… We need to clean this up, then get away quickly before someone notices us." Luckily, I had prepared for this occasion, fetching a bottle of the acid which fed on organic matters, the same one I had stolen off of one of Ragnarok's grunts. Opening it up, I spilt some on the corpse and watched in amazement as it devoured the corpse whole, liquefying it in seconds. "Alright, let's go."
"Wait, what the fuck was tha–?!" Already, I could hear footsteps and feel people approaching from the distance thanks to Spatial-Awareness. It would not be wise to stay any longer, thus I grabbed Alan by the scruff of his neck, before launching us high above. "Fuck- Fuck- Fucking shit! Couldn't you have fucking warned me beforehand, you little FUCKER!"
"Oh-Keep it down, it's not that bad." We landed on the road, empty and desolate due to the recent killings, then shot up to the side of a building nearby, scaling my way up. I could actually cover the entire building, but again, I needed to hide the full-extent of my abilities. Apostles were different, yet one thing they all had in common were weakness against sunlight, moving bodies of water, and a nigh unbreakable connection to their servants.
That connection may vary, yet I had a foreboding feeling the Apostle we were hunting could see and hear through Alan's eyes and ears even though he had not fully succumbed to its control. Could just be a baseless feeling, but with [Future Calculation] still out of commission and unavailable to confirm my suspicions, I just didn't want to risk it. "FUCK, HOW IN THE HELL ARE YOU DOING THIS?!"
I slapped him over the head, scowling as I hissed. "Stop shouting! Do you want to draw every Police Officer within a five miles radius to us, you dumbass?!"
We landed on a rooftop, and I immediately released him, scolding. "Christ, you know there are Vampires, but a Supernatural teenager is where you draw the line?! How do you expect me to hunt a Vampire without Supernatural capabilities?!"
Running a hand through my through my hair, I questioned, face uncharacteristically serious. "Now, can you do this, or do I have to look for someone else to help me?"
"Wait, I'm sorry. I won't scream anymore!" I stared at him, trying to convey that should he do it again, I'd drop him from the highest floor of the nearest building in our vicinity. "You better not."
Once more, I grabbed him and raced towards the slum where he had escaped from a day prior. Our journey this time was a lot more peaceful now that Alan wasn't screaming like his family was being brutally murdered again. Midway to our destination, the American asked, stuttering. "Wha- What exactly are you anyway?"
"What do you think I am?" I didn't look at him in order to focus on navigating the City. "I don't know, you don't seem like a Vampire, so a Werewolf maybe? The two species have a sort of rivalry, right?"
"Good guess, but nope. Werewolves and Dead Apostles did have a rivalry, but the Werewolves have been declared extinct for quite some time now. Try again." And wasn't that a surprise at first. When Sven had told me of the last large pack of the Werewolves being wiped out half a century ago, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed. What could I say? Werewolves were cooler than Vampires, period. And nothing could change my mind.
"I don't know… An Angel? Or Nephilim maybe? You do have the look for it."
That drew a laugh from me. First time I was being referred to as an Angel, and honestly? I was quite flattered. "Close, but not quite."
"Can't you just tell me?"
I smirked. "Where's the fun in that? And don't pout, it doesn't look good on a twenties years old man."
"First, that's sexist. Second, could have just said you didn't want to tell me." Alan scoffed, and I sighed. "High Human, I'm a High Human, and as far I am concerned, I'm the only one of my kind."
"High Human… Like High Elves?" He questioned, curiosity shinning through, which I didn't really mind. While I hadn't paid too much attention to him the entire way, I was perceptive enough to notice the uneasy twitches he would occasionally experience, the fact that he was sniffing in my scent like a fucking coke-addict might have contributed a little too. If I could distract him from the desire to puncture my throat with his teeth, I wasn't going to complain.
"Sort of. I train a lot, and accidentally broke the Human-Limits, allowing me to… Evolve, so to say."
"Can I do that too? Can anyone?"
"You can try, but be warned, your chances of success are closer to zero than one." If not for the Game, evolution wouldn't have been possible for me. Hell, I was self-aware enough to know I'd have died ages ago, likely stumbling to my Death on my Path to Power. "Is it that hard?"
"You can try and find out once the Apostle is dead." I told him as we landed on the building nearest to the slums. Silently, I reached into my inner-pocket, pretending to pull out a projected Black Key and offering it to Alan. "Take it, you'll need it to defend yourself, and be careful with the blade, it's–"
"Argh! What the fuck! It burns!"
"It's blessed in a Holy Sanctum." I finished my explanation, drawling with a deadpanned tone. "It's especially useful against Unholy beings and Apostles."
"Why didn't you just say that?!"
"I was about to… Who told you to grab it?" I snickered, before my eyes moved from Alan to our surrounding. "What are you bunch waiting for, a red carpet?"
The American looked at me in confusion, asking. "Who are you–?!"
That was when they decided to show themselves, an entire group of Ghouls consisting of three males, five females. Their laughter was haunting, like an ominous whisper over the winds as they threw themselves up the rooftop, faces holding wide and predatory grins.
"So you notice, after all–" The first spoke.
Then the second, "But it won't do you any good, little boy–"
Then the third, "You look quite nice, and you smell so good… I'm not interested in kids usually, but I wouldn't mind having a taste of those soft lips."
That's the second time a Bloodsucker had referred to the scent of my blood. Why didn't Anne-Marie say anything? The thought wandered idly in my mind, but then I was reminded of how airheaded she was. Perhaps she just didn't care, who knew?
The fourth soon quipped in, "I'll that disobedient little shit, then I'll claim you as my own."
The fifth and sixth added, "You'll make for an interesting pet, and your knowledge will certainly prove useful to me in the future."
Damn. I knew having a high CHA was going to have an effect, but not to this extent. I took several steps back, covering my chest and groin areas as the Apostle smiled- And by that I meant all of its servants– The Ghouls smiled simultaneously.
It was quite a harrowing and creepy sight. "I don't swing that way."
It replied eerily. "You will once I get my hands on you."
"Yeah… I'll have to pass. I'm quite comfortable with my sexuality as of the moment."
"Sadly–" The Ghouls echoed, before starting to lunge at us from all sides. "– You do not have a choice!"
"Be careful, Alan!" I drew Black Keys from my inner-pockets, once again projected. Invictus and I-I were not necessary for this fight, and I wanted to leave them for the climax.
Two of the Ghouls launched at Alan,
The other four shooting at me.
I'd have to be cautious too, not because I was afraid of the newly-turned Apostle, but because I could not afford to spook it out just yet. The coming battle was going to be especially hard due to that. It might not seem like it, but being able to fight at max capacity was much, much easier than having to hold back.
"You want me, motherfucker?" I said, narrowly dodging a punch coming at my head, my back bending into a crunch position as I did a split-kick at two of the Ghouls- The Uchiha Special to get them off me. I succeeded, landing into a crouch and giving them a taunting smirk. "COME AND GET ME!"