Ramblings of a Bigoted Priest. (Hyrulian Hero, insaney)

“And so my brothers,” the priest shouted, clutching at his altar as though it were the only thing keeping him from floating off into space. “I come to you with but one message: We must protect ourselves against the invading menace!”

Several agreeing murmurs swept through the mass, but the majority of those present were politely listening to Father Ulrich. In the back of the church, however, there was one that knew how this sermon was going to turn out, and didn’t like it.

“They have invaded our homes, killed our brothers, raped our sisters, and enslaved our children!” Ulrich shouted, drawing more murmurs of agreement. “There is no end to their bloodlust, their taste for destruction!”

“I speak of one thing, my brothers and sisters: The damned. Demons, vampires, homunculi, succubus, incubus, they are all beings sent by the devil to ravage mankind! We must strike back and show them that we are not afraid!”

At this the entire church burst into cheers, all except for the one-eyed one in the back. Unseen by the others, he rose and left the church, for he didn’t feel he’d be able to sit through more of the priest’s rambling.

“That priest’s a bigot,” Cain thought, turning outside the church and heading for the inn. “He does have the support of the people though. Pretty soon he’ll rally enough citizens to start an all out war…”

Adonai scowled, clicking his tongue against his fangs. Nobody around him would have understood what he was doing, but in his world it was the vampire equivalent to flipping somebody off across a distance. It was pretty much a way of telling somebody, ‘If you don’t stop, I’m going to drink your blood… *******.’

Father Ulrich was a truly formidable opponent against any ‘unholy’ beings. He rounded up followers fairly easily with his ranting and raving, usually getting several people to join his religious organization ‘DAM’, which stood for ‘Demons Are Monsters’.

Though the title of his organization didn’t directly say anything about vampires, it was obvious that he considered them to be in the same category as demons. In his eyes anything that wasn’t created by God was unholy, and thus inherently evil.

Cain snorted, disgusted by the Father’s inaccurate view of the undead. As far as Adonai was concerned, a human thinking themselves to be better than vampires was no different than a chicken believing itself to be better than humans.

No, it was worse than that. At least chickens couldn’t fight back. Humans have been hunting vampires for generations, and that was just back in his world. Who knows how long humans have been hunting vamps here.

Before long Cain found himself standing in front of the inn. Attached to the wall was a board used for job announcements and, not surprisingly, it was covered with anti-demon messages and proverbs, with several quotes from Father Ulrich.

Seeing this gave Adonai an idea. He’d stamp out Ulrich’s support before it grew too large, and effectively derail the priest’s war effort before it even began. Such a job would be too much for the Class S vampire alone, however. There was a DAM presence in the town, and every DAM member was a trained undead hunter.

Not only that, but the villagers would probably be able to arm themselves with silver and garlic, as well as holy objects. No, he’d need help with this one. He’d put up a small bulletin in the corner, nearly unnoticeable to anybody looking. That is, anybody that wasn’t a vampire, of course.

"We are not afraid!"

The congregation in the church was roused into cheering. The man beside the vampire clapped an whistled, shouting and waving in agreement to Ulrich's words. From what Rain had gathered, the priest had gathered most of the town and recruited them into his... 'organization'. This D.A.M. had experienced undead hunters, the scent of vampire and demon blood practically reeked from their hands and weapons. But no, recruiting the experienced wasn't enough, he had to recruit the innocent, who had probably never seen the likes of any kind of war in their soon-to-be cut short lives.

A man, no more than twenty-five, beside the vampire, was whistling and shouting along with the crowd, he seemed to be caught up in the whole thing. Rain decided to interrupt his celebration.

"What are you people going to use to fight off the vampires?"

Rain's question had caught the man slightly off-guard, delivered with an innocent smile and the concealment of his fangs. The man smiled, seeming to pity the vampire's obviously answered question.

"Why, we melt silver, and make it into bullets! We'll use holy water, garlic and crucifixes! Those bastards will pay for even thinking about setting foot on God's earth."

He shouted over the dying cheers, and Father Ulrich had heard. Rain glimpsed a small smile spread across his face, realizing that most of the congregation would be dedicated to his ignorant cause, he began to speak again.

"Right you are, my brethren! These hideous and unholy monstrosities must be purged from the earth!"

Another round of whistling and cheering filled the halls of the sacred building. The man beside Seraph refused to cheer, he seemed tired, his throat soar. Rain moved slightly closer to him, in order to hold his words over the crowd's cheering.

"Are you sure that's going to work?"

"Pfft," The man laughed at Rain's petty attempt at curiosity, "What's wrong with you? What can they do? Dodge bullets?"

... You'd be surprised.

Rain leaned back against the hard wood of the church benches, looking away from the person next to him, sending his eyesight among the various people gathered in the church, most of them standing and cheering, others sitting and clapping, all eyes on the priest. He wasn't just looking at them, he was searching them, sifting through them. He had felt it ever since he walked in here, the rambling of the priest drawing his attention into the building. He was sure.

Humans were not the only ones here.

His eyesight suddenly shot back, as if, by fate had held it and tossed it backwards. It landed on a small girl -seemingly not more than eight years old- and an older woman, both huddled in a dark corner of the church, watching the priest's words. Both were pale, not looking like blood was pumped from them, but it was as if they had not tasted a drop of blood in years. Yes, they were vampires. Rain's sixth sense had told him they were here, and his eyesight pinpointed them. Their faces alone told him that they had not the bloodlust that most vampires have. There was love between the girl and her mother, one could tell from their gestures and concealed smiles.

And to think... such love and innocence would be wiped out because of one man's brewing war.

Rain knew that even undead and demons could live peacefully, with no desire to kill and destroy. He also knew that this brewing war against the undead of earth would mean the death of not only what they fought against, but who they fought alongside.

Ulrich had to be stopped.

The man that was beside the vampire, was now beside an empty seat. Seraph had stepped out of the church. Even outside, he felt his sixth sense screaming at him from the silence of his mind. It directed him towards the entrance of an inn, where his sense had wailed at the sight of a figure sticking something to a notice board. Another vampire, no doubt, and an overwhelmingly strong one too.

The unknown vampire had moved away now, not far, but Rain's curiousity had pulled him towards the notice that the previous vampire had stuck there.

Seraph lowered his gaze slightly, smiling to himself, and turned. He looked at Cain, who, conveniently, was staring straight back at him.

The priest’s ranting continued into the night, the feverish and passionate speeches broken only by short breaks for rest and food. Vanyel leaned against the church’s doorframe, his arms cross and his expression blank. The vampire scoffed—for perhaps the twelfth time since nightfall—as Ulrich’s speech took yet another hateful turn, going from denouncing supernatural beings in general to condemning “those evil blood-suckers”. Vanyel rolled away from the wall to pace around the back of the church, his feet kicking a large rock back and forth as he retraced his steps. That man . . . that man must be stopped! Ulrich was single-handedly destroying everything that Vanyel had strove to achieve. Every second that he spoke, more and more humans became encompassed by unjust hate. Every derogatory word brought a holy war closer and closer to becoming a reality.

This was unacceptable. Completely, utterly, and undeniably unacceptable. There was not a single iota within Vanyel that would allow this to continue. How many centuries had he slaved to bring humans and vampires closer together? Oh, he knew fully well that the two races could not co-exist as a whole, but humans need not fear a being for their fangs alone. There were vampires who were just as good as humans. Similarly, there were humans who were just as evil as vampires. One need not fear or judge the other by racial reputation alone. That, wholly and truly, is what Vanyel believed. Yet, this priest, this Ulrich, was about to obliterate any chance of co-existence on even a small scale. Vanyel would continue to be hunted for the rest of his undead life, only with more hatred and malice. And fear. Oh, how Vanyel despised the fact that he was feared. How it wounded him when his true heritage was revealed, and was responded with looks of terror and fear.

The vampire stalked through the sparse street, moonlight gleaming eerily along the hilt of his broadsword and the rims of his sunglasses. His heart did not beat, yet Vanyel’s blood coursed angrily through his veins, his entire body throbbing with fury. Vanyel did not usually feel rage such as this, even in extreme circumstances, but he felt it now. Indeed, this was surely the first time in his seven hundred years of undead life that he had held such feelings of malicious towards any being.

The vampire’s pale hands clenched tightly, the knuckles turning as white as parchment. Vanyel’s violet orbs began to glow, their entirety turning a piercing white that shown even through the dark lenses that hid them. The vampire stood alone in the moonlit street, and how thankful he was that it was so. His muscles tightened with supernatural strength as he scanned the empty street, almost praying that a holy warrior would pop out, merely so that he could vent his frustration by tearing him to pieces. Vanyel’s glowing orbs passed over a large bulletin board, covered with brightly colored sheets. Even across the street and at night, Vanyel’s superior eyesight picked out a single word on a single piece of paper.

Had there been an onlooker, they surely would have sworn that the dark-clad man standing in the middle of the street had disappeared. Had they then looked around, they would have found that same man some twenty feet away, bending over as he scanned a piece of paper in the corner of the town board. Had they still been looking a moment later, they would have thought that they had no business wandering the streets at night, for their weary eyes were playing tricks on them, causing them to see phantom men that were there one moment, and nowhere to be seen the next.

OoC: I'd just like to remind both of you that Vanyel can't be out in daylight at all, although that is soon to change. Hopefully.

Ulrich wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, smiling to himself the whole time. His preaching was so far successful. It wouldn’t be long before DAM is overflowing with new recruits. Then those undead scum would be wiped out, and he’d be forever known as a saint.

He scratched his bald head and chuckled. The priest’s chuckling continued until he felt a massive hand on his shoulder and a gruff voice muttering, “There’s a problem.”

The bigot turned to meet his security guard Elm, an agent of DAM. To call the man huge would be an understatement. Easily dwarfing the 5’8 Ulrich by at least three feet and several hundred pounds, the muscled behemoth was the archetypical bodyguard. All muscle, and virtually no brain.

“Your holiness,” Elm said. “Hoge wishes to speak to you. He says it’s urgent.”

The large man pointed a brown sausage of a finger in the direction of Ulrich’s chief advisor, Father Hoge. The unshaven man was twiddling his thumbs and casting nervous glances in the direction of the crowd, currently taking a break to eat.

Ulrich hobbled over to his advisor, frantically wiping off his brow on the way. If Hoge was worried about something you knew there was a big problem.

“Sir,” Hoge said, rushing over to meet Ulrich. “There are vampires in the church! I can tell by their auras. There were more earlier when you were speaking, but there’s only two now.”

“Two!” Ulrich replied. “There shouldn’t even be one! Which ones are bloodsuckers?”

“There’s a girl and her mother in the far back. Their auras are gray, the sign of the undead. They also have incredibly pale skin, allowing me to identify them as vampires. I suggest we use this to your advantage, your holiness.”

“How would we do that?” Ulrich replied, raising his eyebrow.

“We can convince these people that the threat of the unholy is real by showing them the vampires. Their auras are weak. Elm should be able to take them both up to the front of the church fairly easily. Once up front we can expose them to the church and kill them.”

“I like how you think Hoge.”

Meanwhile, the three vampires that had been sitting in the church earlier were preparing an assault. The night was still young, and much blood would soon be shed…

Chaos erupted inside the church. Cries came from inside the walls, as the increasing volume of protests on the tongues of the townspeople became prevalent. The two vampires Ulrich's advisor were forcefully brought up to the front of the congregation, causing an uprising of protest against it from the people.

"What are you doing?! That's just a girl and her mother!"

Ulrich frantically tried to calm the storm of the crowd. He waved his hands, faking a smile and shouting over the cries of pain and anger.

"My people," He said, "My people, listen to me!"

The crowd's cry began to die. Elm held on to the crying young girl while two other DAM agents held on to her struggling mother. She was too weak to break free, and her daughter was too young to understand. Ulrich gestured to one of the DAM members to go collect something from the back of the church for him. The man nodded and exited, returning a few moments later with something small and wooden in his hands. The priest took it from him, and held it up to the crowd, and once more, he shouted.

"My people!"

Ulrich rose his arm up, the small wooden crucifix he had took from the agent in his hand. The crowd's voices died instantly.

"Now!" He shouted, soon realizing that his normal tone was able to convey his message, he repeated, "Now, my people, you shall see that these vile monstrosities can be found anywhere, ready to strike us down at any moment!"

He continued, waving the crucifix about, much to the confusion of the congregation.

What was he going to do...?

"They have infiltrated our homes! Our schools!"

Ulrich placed emphasis on that last word, he lowered his hand and pointed to the girl suddenly. She stumbled backwards out of fright, but Elm had a firm grip on her.

"They have desecrated our churches by their very presence!" He screamed, now turning his finger of accusation towards the mother, squirming in the DAM agents' grasps. Ulrich paced towards her, baring the cross as a weapon. He looked at her face with a disgusted grimace as she struggled to break free.

"They have infiltrated our very lives."

The woman looked at him, seemingly sensing the fate that was about to befall her and her daughter. Tears began to flow from her eyes.

"Please no..." She pleaded, "At least me, not my daughter..."

Ulrich gritted his teeth, obviously ignoring her pleas.

"You are not God's work, you are a work of Satan! You are a lie, placed upon this world!"

She shook her head at his words, and continued her pleading.

"Please, don't hurt my daughter. Someone save my daughter..."

"Shut your filthy mouth." Ulrich snapped. He rose the crucifix, and pressed it into the vampires chest.

She screamed, writhing with pain. Steam rose up from the wound as he pressed harder into it.

Her daughter began to cry, to scared to move.

She was too weak to withstand the pain. Her heart slowed and her eyes closed as she drew her last breath.

"Mommy!" Her daughter cried, "Mommy."

At that moment, it seemed as if a massive wind flung open the doors. But it was no force of nature. A dark figure with bright eyes leapt upon Elm, sinking fangs into his neck. The agent was forced to let go of the girl. Elm grabbed on to his attacker's clothes with both large hands, ripping him off his neck and throwing him unto a nearby wall. The vampire's feet slammed the bricks, his knees bent, causing dust and creaks of the building's ceiling to fall from above. Regaining himself, the attacker stood up, perpendicular to the wall. Gravity did not affect him. He bent his neck upwards a little whilst standing on the wall, making it so Elm's gaze met his gold eyes. Elm's blood slowly dripped from Rain's lips.


OoC: XD for a few moments there, I typed out 'Elmo' instead of 'Elm'.

Ulrich hissed angrily at the vampire, clutching the crucifix tightly and turning back to the girl. Except, there was no girl. The bigoted priest turned on the spot, his angry gaze sweeping the congressional. His blazing eyes froze, resting on a tall pale man in the corner, the little girl huddled in one arm.

“Yo.” Vanyel called out, giving a little wave with his other hand. A wide smile split his face, vengeful and deadly. His eyes blazed from behind his shades, as if illuminated from the inside by pure white flames.

“Filth!” Ulrich yelled, his ample belly jiggling in a very non-jolly way. “Monstrosity! Demon! Damned!” Within the space of a breath, Vanyel was behind the priest, his blade out and flashing in the candle and torchlight.

“No.” He said calmly, lowering his face towards the rapidly stiffening man’s ear. “That would be you.” The vampire’s left fist came barreling in, driving deeply into the man’s side and sending him to his knees. As suddenly as he had come, the dark-haired man was gone, back to where he had left the little girl. Scooping her up in one arm, Vanyel’s powerful legs sprang towards the window. Glass exploded outward in a deadly rain, the black-clad vampire hurling through it and into the night sky. He dropped down lightly onto a nearby roof, merely a dark shadow among shadows.

Without pause for breath, he was gone again, leaping towards another building. His dark form was silhouetted by the full moon. Finally, he came to rest amid a forest as dark as the night above it. Setting the weeping child down gently at the base of a trunk, the vampire looked around. Assured that the immediate area at least was safe, he dropped into a crouch to face the girl.

“Shhh. Hush now, child.” He said gently, stroking her hair softly. “It’s alright now. You’ll be safe here.” The girl looked up at the stranger, her face tear-streaked. Vanyel’s heart shattered with unbearable sadness.

“T-t-t-t-they k-killed her.” She blabbered, clutching herself. “They k-killed mommy!” With that, the girl broke down once more, hanging her head and shaking uncontrollably.

“Don’t worry.” Vanyel said again, his own hands shaking in rage as he stroked her head. “I’m going to leave for a moment, but I’ll be right back. I’ll be back, and I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry. It’ll all be alright.” Vanyel continued to murmur quietly to the girl for several minutes, but her sobbing did not cease. Rather, tears of his own joined hers, his heart torn with pity and sadness for the girl. Here before him was a child about to go through every bad experience he had already lived through. No, she would suffer even more, for Ulrich and DAM would hunt her relentlessly, unceasingly and mercilessly. But not if Vanyel could help it. Murmuring several last parting words, the undead warrior slipped off into the night, leaving the girl sobbing and huddled beneath the trees.

Any rage he had felt previous to this moment paled before the fury that coursed through him now. No child, human or vampire, deserved that kind of pain, that kind of heartbreak. The vampire came crashing down on the edge of a roof across the street from the church, the bricks crumbling under his feet. By now, his newly found allies had caused considerable panic and mayhem, people running through the dark streets, screaming their heads off. Ulrich and DAM tried desperately to create some semblance of order, yet only succeeded in causing more panic. Armored men wielding guns, swords, and lances poured through the streets, chasing vainly two dark figures flittering through the streets soundlessly.

“Don’t,” Vanyel said, though there was not to hear him. “Don’t take all the fun!” The dark-haired man shot down from the rooftop like a bullet, barreling through several armored men and towards Ulrich. “I. Will. Kill. You.” He growled, yanking off his glasses and bearing his fangs, letting the priest feel the full force of his fury.

Rain brought his hand up to his lips, sweeping away the blood that trickled down with his glove. He and Elm saw eye to eye, literally. The D.A.M. agent didn't seem to be afraid, gritting his teeth as he saw the blood in his hand after wiping his neck. The vampire cleaned his fangs with a flick of his tongue, tasting thick crimson sweetness with a slight tang of sweat. His fangs didn't sink all the way in, they were just pressed in slightly and then ripped out when he was thrown.

Then, out of no where, Elm drew a handgun. The bullets fired were countered with wide golden eyes and maneuvering upon the wall. The dark clad one leaped off the wall, spinning to avoid the flurry of bullets.

The man in the congregation who Rain had conversed with before still sat in his seat, paralyzed with fear, his trousers dark and dripping. Wide-eyed, he muttered softly.

"Whoa.. They.. They really can dodge bullets..."

He was even more shocked because that vampire dodging the bullets was the same person he had spoken with not hours ago. He thought to himself how close he had come close to a vampire, such a deceptive one. 'A deceptive death' he thought, gritting his teeth as bullets smashed the stone wall.

Rain gnashed his teeth and crashed into the ground suddenly, his landing foiled. He gasped for air as he held his stomach. Rain's own blood soaking his shirt and staining the ground.

"V... Vanyel," He coughed, gasping for air. Elm grinned and lowered his weapon, not fearing that the little surprise he had hid in the barrel of his gun would now be out in the open.

"Vanyel..." Seraph stumbled as he was standing up, a tear rolled down his cheek, "It's silver.. the bullets... the bullets are silver..."

Elm chuckled.

"Time to go home, demon."

The agent reloaded and aimed. Rain heard the hammer click as Elm chuckled through grinning teeth. The vampire heard Vanyel call out suddenly, the agent turned around, and at the same time, a girl appeared at the doors to the church. She resembled the young one Vanyel had carried to safety, but it definitely wasn't her. She was a little older, and her hair was longer, but she still held the thin frame and pale appearance that her sister had shared with her mother. Oh! The poor girl... her mother... she doesn't know yet...

Her eyes seemed to sparkle with her own tears as she searched the confusion for her sister and mother. She hadn't known. How would she react if she saw her mother's body...? The girl knelt suddenly, taking her mother's hand into hers. Her reaction was understandable, albeit unexpected. She clenched her mother's hand tightly, tears flowed but her teeth were clenched. The girl looked up at the chaos surrounding her and her eyes met with the gold of a kneeling vampire. Rain looked at her, then turned to see Elm careening towards him. Vanyel had rammed him from behind, the gun went off a few times, and the towering Elm came crashing down. The kneeling one tucked and rolled out of the way, his next aim; to get this girl out before Ulrich or Hoge-

Hoge! That blasted fool. He had already detected her gray aura and sent agents to get the girl!

Even in his current state, Rain was more than a match for a few men. He disposed of them swiftly, breaking bone and washing blood upon the stone. His bloodied hands found his way around the girl's waist, his eyes looked into hers, sparkling with tears.

"Mommy..." Was all she said.

"We..." Rain hesitated, closing his eyes. The pain of his silver inflicted wound coupled with the girl's tears searing into his heart made him blink away a few tears of his own, "We have to leave now..."

The girl shook her head slowly as her mother's fingers passed between hers. Rain sighed and lifted her off the ground, hoisting her up. She seemed to accept defeat, resting her head on a stranger's shoulder while digging her fingernails into his clothes. Rain ran out and leaped upward, clinging to the young girl in his arms tightly. He landed on a roof just opposite the church, and whispered a late piece of advice.

"Keep holding tight."

Rain felt her cheek rub up and down against his shoulder, signifying her nod of approval. The vampire leaped forward again, clearing a few more rooftops. When he landed, he set her down in a small place where two roofs met, a 'valley' of sorts. He knelt in front of her, spotting blood on her clothing.

"Are you... okay?"

She nodded in response, looking down and squeezing her hands hard. Rain looked down, lifting his shirt to look at the bullet wound. The veins around the ruddy injury started to turn black, infected with silver. The poison was spreading. The girl turned away slightly, curling herself up in a fetal position, bringing her knees to her forehead. The vampire trembled as he rested his hand gently on her back.

"I'll be back soon... I have a friend back there. Promise me you'll stay here?"

She seemed as if she didn't have the strength to nod, but she did, very slowly, as if she were being paid to perfect a simple nod. The vampire stood up, his own shadow raging around him as his eyes flickered from gold to red. He turned and narrowed his eyes at the church he had just left.

"Ulrich..."

Blazing white eyes turned from the retreating form of Rain to the rising figure of the well-muscled priest. Vanyel shot forward, moving around the man in the blink of an eye. Thin white fingers curled around the black hilt poking over the vampire’s shoulder, the powerful, corded muscles of the connecting arm swinging the blade down to bare. Elm ground his teeth, his wrist snapping up as he aimed at the new enemy. Vanyel flipped Soul blood over in his hand as the priest pulled the trigger, the bullet hitting the flat of the blade and bouncing away.

Supernaturally powerful legs sprang, launching the vampire over Elm’s head. Vanyel lashed out with the blade as he came down on the man’s other side, drawing a long red line down Elm’s back. The priest spun on his heel, flinging his arm out wide to blow the damned creature away. Blazing eyes watched the movement in almost slow motion, and Vanyel brought Soul Blood swinging up with ease, lopping Elm’s hand off and sending it flying through the night sky trailing a stream of blood.

The large man howled in pain and fury, his remaining hand pulling forth another handgun from his belt. He hadn’t even aimed it when Vanyel’s knee smashed into his face, bending the man over backwards and sending him bouncing along the road. In an instant, the vampire was standing over the sprawling man, one foot pressed firmly against his chest. Elm screeched in fear and fury, bringing the gun to bear and firing haphazardly. Elm’s second hand flew off in the opposite direction of the first, but not before a silver bullet grazed Vanyel’s cheek, etching a thin red line that oozed blood onto the man below.

“I am not normally so cruel,” Vanyel growled, bending down towards the priest. “But for what you have done to those girls, for what you would do to them in the future, you will pay.” Soul Blood came thudding down as the dark-haired man finished speaking, impaling Elm and driving several inches into the earth beneath. Vanyel hissed angrily through his teeth, the man’s life force flowing through the rune-covered blade and into his body. Echoing bangs caught the vampire’s attention, several bullets ripping towards him from behind.

Vanyel ducked and twisted to the side, but hissed in intense pain as a silver projectile blasted through his side, tearing through dark leather in a spray of blood. Tearing the broadsword free of the dying man at his feet, Vanyel swung Soul Blood across in a great sweep. Invisible energy flew from the blade to tear into the newcomers, ripping through their clothes and into their chests, blood spraying forth in twin fountains.

Vanyel’s form became blurred as he stepped off the corpse, Elm’s absorbed energy fueling him. Several armored men came barreling around a corner at the far end of the street, spotted the vampire, and yelled. The leader brandished a large halberd, ordering his men forward. The words were not yet fully from his mouth before the ethereal blur that was Vanyel shot towards them, his blade ran through the man’s torso.

OoC:Link to the version of Rain used in this RP.

BiC:

Vanyel withdrew his blade from the man’s chest, letting the blood squirt freely out of the wound. In pain, the armored man clutched his chest plate. Vanyel was about to deliver the final blow when a shadow covered the two. The shadow grew bigger. The vampire and the man looked upwards, but it seemed only Vanyel recognized what was about to come upon them. He stepped back.

Rain’s right foot smashed into the man’s face. As the man dropped to his knees, Rain pressed his weight down harder, bending his knee before hopping off. He took a few steps back and stopped at Vanyel’s side. Both looked at the group of men in armor. The same group whose leader was just killed. Rain gritted his teeth and cringed, leaning forward and placing his right hand over the bullet wound. A drop of sweat ran down his forehead.

"Hey," He said, not looking at Vanyel, but at the trembling group in front of them, "Having a little trouble?"

Rain turned the gritting of his teeth into a grin.

In a scared, blind rage, the group before them attacked, a few of them wielding large weapons. Claymores and axes came towards the two. Rain feigned an attack, making one of the men swing his huge axe blindly, clobbering one of his friends instead of the vampires. Rain bent sideways, avoiding the swing, but irritating his wound at the same time. He needed, to heal and he needed to heal fast.

Without a second thought, he was upon the man with the axe, leaping over him, but planting his fingers on his helmet. When Rain landed behind the man, he pressed his foot against his back, pulling the man’s head back at the same time. He pulled off his helmet, as his back was bent. The man was screaming in pain, trying his hardest to breathe between screams.

He began to scream even more when he saw Rain’s bright gold eyes and fangs over him.

"P-Plea-Please!" He stuttered.

Rain hissed.

"Ulrich. Location. Now."

"I-I…I don’t know!" The man replied.

"Very well then." Rain sighed. The man screamed as the vampire’s fangs went deep into his neck. The red liquid flowed over Rain’s tongue. He felt it slither all the way down his throat and into his stomach. The pain from the wound began to fade. Rain tossed the main aside; he was still alive, but just barely. The bullet wound was gone now, the silver poison no longer posed a thread. His eyes wandered over to Vanyel’s location.

Not a bad idea, Vanyel thought to himself, watching his ally toss away the drained man and lick his lips. The vampire transferred Soul Blood to his left hand, clamping his right down tightly over the burning wound in his own side. The black-haired man lunged forward, leaving an after-wake of blurred images behind him as he shot into the group of halberd-wielding men. He slipped his broadsword under one man’s armpit, the blade resting against flesh through the vulnerable gap in the armor. His powerful arm snapped up, severing the limb at the shoulder. The man’s screams masked the swoosh of the incoming halberd, but Vanyel sensed it anyways, dropping into a crouch and grabbing the falling halberd of the wounded man. Shaking the dismembered limb off, the vampire spun around, the stolen weapon leading.

The silver-edged blade dug deep into the one-armed man’s waist, sending a spray of blood out towards the others. Vanyel followed through on the attack, whipping the halberd out of the man’s side and lunging forward to impale another one. Letting go of the weapon’s shaft, the pale-skinned man whipped Soul Blood up to the side, shearing through the descending halberd and slipping up under this newest fighter’s arm, dropping the broadsword. The vampire snaked one arm around the man’s chest from over his arm, his other wrapping over the limb and firmly grasping the wrist. Hissing, Vanyel squeezed both of his arms in towards his middle, earning a sickening crack from the armored man’s elbow joint as it popped out… the wrong way.

Disengaging his arms from around the man, Vanyel darted back around to the front, his long, slender fingers rocketing forward to close around the man’s throat. The burning light from the vampire’s white orbs almost blinded the man as he was lifted—armor and all—into the air like a doll. The vampire ignored the DAM agent’s feeble hand clawing at him—the other still twisted out to the side at an unnatural angle—and swung him up over his head and slammed him into the ground, hard. Hissing as he closed in on the man’s exposed throat, the vampire sank his fangs deep into the artery-rich flesh, blood seeping into his mouth in rhythmic bursts. Rain watched for almost a full minute as Vanyel drank deeply, finally dropping the man and gasping. Blood was smeared all over Vanyel’s lips, and two dribbles of it ran from the corners of his mouth. Yet the cut running across his cheek started closing even as Rain watched, the wound in Vanyel’s side similarly healing.

“Well?” Vanyel asked, approaching the other vampire and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What do we do now?” Rain shrugged, not having an answer.

“What happened to Cain?”

Rain didn’t have an answer for that either.

“Then, let’s just go find Ulrich on our own.”

Rain shrugged and nodded.

“… You’re very quiet, aren’t you?”

<====}=0 – 0={====>

“I thought we were going to stop it while it was small?” Vanyel said tensely, the wood lip of the building splintering under his tight grip. The two sat overlooking the church from the roof of an adjacent building, huddled in the shadow of a larger building. The huddled group of gatling guns shining in the moonlight in front of the church didn’t look so little to Vanyel. Neither did the suspiciously silver bullets set into the leading cartridges. The three heavy guns formed a half-circle in front of the church doorway, with three equally large men manning them. Lightly armored priests ran everywhere, tossing holy water over everything in sight; the guns, bullets, the church walls, the ground, and even on the men manning the guns themselves. Predictably, Ulrich stood in the doorway of the church, smiling proudly as his watched his minions running around. Bastard, Vanyel couldn’t help but swear inwardly.

OoC: Let's make this fun.

"What happened to Cain?"

He probably went after Ulrich.

But Rain wasn’t sure, Cain had been missing since the start of the assault.

"Then, let’s just go find Ulrich on our own." Vanyel suggested.

My plan exactly.

Rain nodded in agreement.

"…You’re very quiet, aren’t you?"

Rain smiled to himself. It wasn’t very often that he had the chance to fight alongside vampires. It would usually be they fighting against him, because of the fact that he just wasn’t like them. But looking at Vanyel, he seemed different. Maybe Seraph would get to know about him more after this, because right now, this job had top priority.

***

"I thought we were going to stop it while it was small?" Vanyel gritted his teeth angrily. The situation had grown immensely out of proportion. It seemed Ulrich was well prepared for an assault like this. Three well supplied gatling guns with three robust men to man them, lightly armored personnel running around, throwing holy water on everything, with Ulrich himself, grinning at his minion’s work.

Rain walked up to Vanyel’s side. Both were on a roof of a building near Ulrich’s ‘fort’, the shadow of a larger building concealed the two spies from the moonlight, which would surely give them away. Although the moonlight kept the two in the dark, it seemed to favour the D.A.M. agents, glowing brightly, giving them all the light they need to see on this night.

Rain smiled.

Vanyel looked at him, probably thinking that his ally had lost it. Why is he smiling at a time like this?

Seraph pointed at the three heavy guns that were arranged in a semi-circle just outside the entrance to the church.

"You know what those guns are, right?"

"Yeah." Vanyel nodded, turning to where Rain was pointing.

"Those are heavy, " the gold-eyed vampire continued, "so they’re mounted on tripods. There’s a limit to how high they can shoot, see?"

Vanyel narrowed his eyes, looking closely at the guns. Rain was right. If the men had somehow spotted them upon the roof, the guns would not be able to aim this high without being lifted up.

"However," Rain shifted his finger slightly, pointing at the belt of bullets leading into one of the gatling guns, "those bullets, whether they are silver or not, getting hit by a flurry of them would mean instant death. We have to take out those gunmen first; their only blind spot with those guns will be directly above them. After that, Ulrich will might retreat into the church. After we enter, there’s no turning back."

Vanyel was probably surprised, his ally had never talked this much before.

With that, Rain began to climb down the building. Vanyel glanced at him and shouted in a way that only the two could hear.

"Hey!" His voice low, "What are you doing?"

"Aren’t you coming?" Rain responded. He was well aware that the guns, bullets and even the men were doused in holy water. "We can’t actually touch them with our bare hands, so we’ll have to find more creative ways to kill them."

The light armored priests had depleted their current reserves of holy water, so they went back into the church. Unfortunately for the vampires, Ulrich himself also went inside, so only those three men stood outside in the moonlight. They were like living statues with moving heads, always alert, looking and listening.

The two vampires split up, Vanyel went to the left of the building, while Rain went to the right, both using the shadows for cover. After a few moments of silence, a helpful cloud covered the moon.

A loud snap came from Vanyel’s side.

"What?!" One of the men jumped, quickly grabbing the handles of the gun. The two others aimed their guns at the direction of the sound.

A silhouette appeared in the distance.

"Who-Who goes there?!" One man shouted at the figure, but all three were focused on it. They were so focused on that silhouette, that they didn’t notice the man to the far right getting strangled by the sleeves of Rain’s cloak. The vampire had taken it off and climbed the building, his shoes protecting him from the wet walls. When the opportunity had revealed itself, he quickly lowered the sleeves of the cloak, which were tied to make a 'u' form. He caught the next of the man and swiftly wrung the sleeves around each other, pulling the heavy load up at the same time and jerking it.

There was a loud 'pop' as the man’s neck couldn’t take anymore.

The middle man spun on the spot as the resounding crack of his comrade’s neck echoed through the area. That was all Vanyel needed. Faster than the third man—still watching the spot where Vanyel had deliberately snapped a branch a good ways off from his actual location—could react, Vanyel shot forward out of the shadows, swinging Soul Blood up wide. A narrow furrow split the ground, traveling from Vanyel’s blade towards the wide-eyed man, yet the invisible force remained unseen. Blood erupted from the man’s bare chest, knocking him backwards into the middle man. Meanwhile, said gunner had watched as the tied off arms of the coat had shook the dead body loose, retreating back up above the roof. Rain kicked off from the church, flying through the air like a wind-borne shadow to land deftly across from the man. Exclaiming in pre-emptive triumph, the man grabbed a hold of his massive gun, swiveling it aim at Rain.

Which was just about when the dead body of the man to his right crashed into him, knocking his aim aside so that the rain of bullets shot out to demolish an already run-down barn to the side. The remaining man shoved the bead body away, his bald head whipping around to look for any sign of the vampires. They were both gone.

Vanyel slung his broadsword up over his shoulder as he ran through the shadows, feeling the energy pulse through its handle. Without warning, Rain shot out across the street, drawing the gunner’s attention. The man open fired, a stream of silver bullets following Rain as he raced across the street and behind another building. Watching that particular area now, the man was ready when the vampire shot back out again. He led this time, the stream of bullets ahead of Rain. The black-haired vampire skidded to a stop, turning on his heel and rocketing off the opposite way to avoid the fire. The gunner, grinning, swiveled to follow. Too bad he didn’t notice the second vampire leap out of the tree branches to his left, flying high over him. He looked up at the last moment—too late—as Vanyel’s invisible slice barreled into him, crushing him against the ground. Rain came running back out again—not so urgently this time—to rejoin Vanyel.

Quickly, before those inside could prepare any more than they already had, they burst through the open doorway together. To face a fourth gatling gun, manned by Ulrich. The fat priest stood behind the giant gun on the platform at the far end (not that far) of the church, four lightly armored priests beside him. Everything had been drenched in holy water, including the men, gun, pews, and walls. And in the short, narrow church, there was nowhere Vanyel and Rain could avoid the dangerous weapon.

“Too bad for you,” Ulrich remarked evilly to the two stunned vampires. “Demons.” He pulled the trigger. There was no time to react, no time to think. Vanyel pulled his arm back, his powerful muscles tightening and then whipping across to his side. His blow landed squarely on Rain’s jaw, launching him through the air and sending him crashing through the wall and into the night beyond. His other arm, still clutching Soul Blood, whipped down in front of him, planting the sword in the floor like his own cross. To the vampire’s eyes, the flurry of bullets came on slowly, advancing like a sluggish swarm of bees. Energy flowed from him, erecting an invisible barrier around him just as the first of those bees hit it.

The silver bullets pelted off the barrier in a steady stream, rather like a furious drumming of pebbles against bells. Vanyel dropped to one knee behind his blade, resting his forehead against his clasped hands on the pommel. It was as if he were praying. Which he was. If his shield couldn’t outlast Ulrich and his gatling gun . . . he would be annihilated instantly.

That bastard just hit me! Rain’s jaw pulsed as he flew through the air, the last few moments replaying continuously in his mind. A cry of pain left his lips as he slammed into the wall.

A shock ran through his body at that point and everything slowed down. His vision blurred, he became slightly deaf; the sounds became muffled.

Ulrich began firing his gun, while at the same time, Vanyel planted his sword’s blade into the ground, kneeling before it. The flurry of bullets that shot out of the gun was deflected by some invisible force around the vampire.

Rain’s gold irises worked their way up, looking at the pieces of brick above him as his back pressed through the wall. He felt pieces of bricks press into his back and slide slowly out of the way as gravity worked against the force of Vanyel’s blow. He landed roughly on his back, feeling the edges of rubble poking through his clothes. As he landed, he twisted his body to roll, lessening the blow of hitting the ground. Rain rolled into a nearby wall of a separate building.

He found himself looking up at the stars, in a position where his butt was against the wall and his legs were vertically along it, as if he were sitting on the brick wall. His vision was still blurred, but he could hear better now. Everything was moving in real time now. Rain moaned and put his left hand against his face, closing his eyes. A small trickle of blood ran down from the corner of his lips to his chin. That blow through the wall had numbed his whole body.

Suddenly, the wind felt cold against his cheek. He felt a soft, weak hand gently tug his shoulder. Rain opened his eyes slightly, looking up at the figure hovering over him. It was a pale woman, she had a thin frame, but she was beautiful. Rain felt his eyes search her curiously. With her thin, pale lips, she was smiling, but very slightly, her eyes were glossy from tears. She seemed so familiar. A tiny stream of smoke rose up before her face. The vampire’s eyes followed the string of smoke to its source.

There was a burn mark in the shape of a crucifix on her chest.

Rain’s eyes opened wide, at that moment, the figure disappeared, as if she was never there. He shot up, the sound of the gatling gun and the bullets ricocheting filling his ears.

"Vanyel!"

Meanwhile, inside of the church, Vanyel was still holding his ground, resting his forehead against the handle of the sword. Ulrich’s onslaught was almost finished, the first belt of bullets were near end, but during his trigger-happiness he took the time to stop firing, because his voice could not go over the sound of the gun.

"Hah!" He scowled at Vanyel, taking a tighter grip on the gun’s handles, "Demon! You dare assume that position?! How dare you mock God!" He gritted his teeth and got ready to fire again, but another voice cut across his thoughts.

"Heh…" A silhouette appeared just outside the main entrance, lugging something heavy behind it. "You want to talk about who’s mocking God…?"

Rain raised his head, his gold eyes looking fiercely at Ulrich. The priest stumbled back, unable to turn away from the glare. The vampire quickly dragged what he was holding to the front, heaving it upwards and catching it with his free hand. The object was one of the gatling guns from outside, almost fully wrapped up in Rain’s cloak, so that the holy water won’t harm his hands when he tried to fire it.

There was a click as Rain made the gun ready to fire.

"Look in the mirror, you self-righteous son-of-a-*****!"

Ulrich shouted and took cover quickly as Rain opened fire. Unable to harm the priest, the vampire turned his gun towards the escaping armoured priests. Only one of them successfully hid, managing to stay alive.

"Hey, you." Rain half-smiled and looked at Vanyel, who was just about pulling his sword out of the ground.

"Aim a little lower next time."

Vanyel grinned back and chuckled weakly as he freed Soul Blood from the church floor. The vampire swung one foot forward, but stumbled as his body faltered in mid-step. He only then realized just how much of his energy had gone into sustaining the shield, his own body’s power replacing the sword’s after it had been drained to the dregs.

“Good timing,” Vanyel congratulated, catching himself and using his momentum to swing himself back upright. Rain dropped the gatling gun—the force of the heavy weapon shattering the raised platform and dropping the back end of Ulrich’s gun down into the hole so that it’s ring of barrels stuck straight up into the air—and moved over to his new friend, draping one of the weakened vampire’s arms over his shoulders. The two moved out through the newly formed hole in the wall—Vanyel wincing and murmuring an apology as they did so—just in time to see the remaining under-priest scramble over a low line of bushes and into the shadows of the forest.

“He’s mine,” Vanyel stated flatly, slipping free of Rain’s support and stalking off slowly after the fleeing man.

“I’ll look for Father Gun-Happy,” Rain offered, his ally nodding wordlessly as he disappeared into the shadows.

Vanyel weaved through the trees and underbrush easily and noiselessly, almost an insubstantial shadow. The fleeing priest was up ahead, his armor clanging loudly as he banged against various branches and tree trunks. Moonlight shot through the canopy overhead, illuminating the man’s armor like a silver light bulb. The black-haired vampire spat at the judgmental human’s foolishness. As if armor would do them any good against the supernatural. It hindered them a hundred times over, and only aided in elevating their intimidating appearance. Not that Vanyel—or his vampire allies—was intimidated in the slightest. Hissing, the vampire passed through a tangle of twigs and branches, drifting into a patch of moonlight.

Wait . . . Through? Drifting? Vanyel stopped cold, his eyes flashing down to look at his body. He didn’t have one. He didn’t even have eyes. The vampire nearly swooned, his mind racing through various thoughts of holy curses and the like. It took almost a full half-minute before he realized that he did indeed have a body—and eyes. It was merely made of mist. Astonishment and confusion overtook him, sending his mind careening through a vast universe of possibilities. He had heard of such things before; high-level vampires able to shift their form into a mere mist! Twisting his eyes—or consciousness, or whatever it was—to look down at where his legs should be, Vanyel moved about. He could see the mist that was his body, illuminated by the moonlight. The silver rays passed through it, leaving a slight shadow upon the ground. Vanyel spread his form wider and thinner, the moonlight shining upon the ground intensifying in brightness. He gathered it closer together, condensing it as much as he could so that the light upon the ground was moderately shadowed.

Laughing out loud, Vanyel veered towards where the man had disappeared. His mist form drifted through the trees swiftly, as if carried by a strong breeze. The dark-haired man marveled at such fleetness and ease of movement, amazed at what he was actually doing. He no longer had mere eyes; his consciousness and vision seemingly occupying everywhere he spread his mist form all at the same time. He had never felt or experienced such a sensation before! It was akin to the first time he had drank human blood. At that time, his body had been filled with a new strength, a new power that he could not yet comprehend. Yet he had also been filled with disgust and self-loathing, both for his necessary actions and the sensations it gave him. But now . . . Now he felt no such negativity!

He came upon the fleeing priest quicker than anticipated, the mist that was his body falling around the man. The priest was oblivious to Vanyel’s presence, huffing and stomping along loudly. He had slowed to a weary trudge, peering back every few moments to be sure that the currently-thought-of-as-eluded vampire had not come upon him. Unfortunately for him, said vampire had, and he didn’t even realize it. How ironic. Gathering the mist of his body altogether before the man, Vanyel willed himself to become substantial. The mist solidified, melting into visible arms and legs.

Hovering before the shocked and speechless man, Vanyel lifted his blade and plunged it through the priest’s puny armor. The vampire shuddered as a new energy—the man’s life force—flowed freely into him through the blade. His eyes rolling back to stare forever into his own skull, the man slid backwards off Vanyel’s broadsword, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. Grinning in glee, revelation, and newfound energy, Vanyel whipped the blade through the air, slinging the blood off it.

And onto a substance that was not leaf, dirt, or bark. Cold, emotionless eyes looked down at the streak of blood, and then back up at the vampire. A heavy, almost physical blow struck Vanyel as he looked at those dead eyes, and a cold hand slipped around his undead heart—a heart that had not beat for centuries—and squeezed tightly. The grin faded from his face, and Soul Blood fell from his hand, now gone limp as he stared into the eyes of the orphaned vampire child.

“No . . . No, this isn’t—” he began weakly; scared and confused for reasons he could not understand. He glanced down at the lifeless body at his feet and back up at the little girl, the icy fist around his heart squeezing even tighter, sending shivers and waves of unidentifiable emotions through his body and soul. He felt . . . insanely, unexplainably guilty. He was more aware of the rapidly cooling body on the ground, of the massive amount of blood covering his person, and of the blood he himself had stained the girl with more than he had been aware of anything in his life. Fear and guilt set upon him, burying him beneath their weight. He whispered unintelligible syllables of avoidance and negation. A cold sweat broke out over his pale face as the wide, black eyes continued to stare up at him. The man was evil, Vanyel continually told himself, as if to convince himself more than the girl. He was evil; he would have gladly killed me . . . killed you . . . evil . . .

The girl, of course, could not hear his purely internal thoughts and he knew it, yet he continued on in the same vain, desperate and scared. He would have killed us all. But . . . he was running. He was fleeing, and I could have easily let him go . . .

The girl took a single small step forward, Vanyel instinctively taking one back. I could have let him go . . . He was running; he wouldn’t have caused us anymore harm. A fresh wave of guilt and fear took the vampire with each condemning thought, and each small step the girl took drove him back one more. What has happened . . . What has happened to me? He thought fearfully, his violet orbs quaking in a mindless fear; a fear of the little girl, and of himself and the changes wrought in him. I would have never . . . have never so freely killed. So freely killed a defenseless, fleeing human! Never would I have done such a thing! He took another step back, yet his body encountered the rough frame of an oak, halting his progress. He so desperately wanted to shift into mist form again, yet was fearful to. Was this the price of power? Of new abilities and new strength? His soul? His heart? Whatever it was that made him him?

No . . . no . . . Vanyel quivered inwardly. He didn’t want to change, didn’t want to become a mindless killer. He didn’t want to abandon his principles, his values. He never wanted to so freely kill again. He had let rage and self-righteousness—and even fear—take control of him tonight; had allowed them to turn him into a killer. Surely, Ulrich and his minions were as wrong as the sun was bright, yet did he have any right to pass judgment and punishment on them? No . . . No—he was sure that he and his comrades had taken the right course, yet it was one that he had traveled down too easily. And if he let his emotions control him so completely, how was he any better than Ulrich?

The girl took another step forward, her eyes still locked on Vanyel’s. The vampire wretched his gaze away from those soul-penetrating eyes and fell to his knees. He didn’t want to . . . To become such a person, such a thing. The girl was upon him now, but he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t move; his mind too numb and frightened to give any commands, and his body shaking too much to heed them anyway. More than the guilt, he felt helplessness. So very, very helpless before this girl, for inexplicable reasons. Slowly, carefully, the girl raised one small, pale hand and brought it to Vanyel’s head. Almost hesitantly, she nestled it in the older vampire’s messy hair, weaving her fingers through the black strands.

Somehow, the touch calmed Vanyel, although not quickly. The fog of fear that had clouded his mind and heart were fading, soon dissipating into nothingness. Just as slowly, the girl brought up her other hand and rested it on his shoulder. Vanyel’s head came up in confusion, and her other hand fell to rest on his remaining shoulder. Then, surprisingly, she collapsed against Vanyel’s chest, her face buried just over his heart. The black-haired man didn’t know what to do, what to think, or what to feel, completely at a loss. At first, the girl was silent and steady, just resting against his warm chest. But as the minutes passed, her slender frame began to quake, starting in small quivers, but soon growing as violent as anything Vanyel had just felt. Quiet, muffled sobs came next, accompanying the shaking as the girl broke down against the older vampire.

The helplessness, confusion, and hesitation within Vanyel vanished in the face of the child’s pain, the vampire wrapping his arms around the girl and holding her tightly without the slightest hesitation. The two sat so for close to ten minutes, the girl’s pain and sense of loss guiding and healing Vanyel’s own pain even as he comforted her. No, he didn’t want to become a cold killer, a principle-less being. And he would not. On his undead “life”, he would not become such a being. He thought of how he had cruelly killed Elm, deserving though he was. He thought of how he had so heartlessly cut off and impaled one man and broken the arm of another in the most painful way possible before drinking his blood. He thought of how he had gleefully, vengefully hunted down this last man, killing him in cold blood. His emotions would never so fully control him again, he vowed. He also thought about the cause for which he had fought, the point accentuated by the crying child cradled in his arms. He thought, too, of how he had saved Rain’s life; for there was no doubt that the other man would have been obliterated by the hail of silver bullets. He was glad, at least, that he had not fully lost himself. It brought the line he now drew that much closer to his true self.

Finally, after the girl’s sobs and shakes had subsided, Vanyel scooped up the little body in his arms. The child clutched desperately at his shirt, her face still buried in his chest. Willing Soul Blood to drift along behind him, Vanyel set back towards the town. As he walked, he firmly recalled his words spoken to the girl before.

I’ll be back, and I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry. It’ll all be all right. I’ll take care of you.

As Vanyel ran off into the darkness of the forest, Rain went out into the moonlight.

Ulrich had practically disappeared from the church, probably running to a place even more protected than this one. He stopped in the middle of the street and spun right around, looking for any sign of the man.

"Haah…haha…hahahha…"

A menacing laugh began to rise out of the shadows. Ulrich’s eyes were the first thing Rain noticed as he dragged himself out of the shadows. They were open wide, and trembling, the moonlight providing the glint of insanity. In his arms was the little girl Rain had rescued before. She wasn’t struggling, because doing so might make her come into contact with the cross-shaped pendant Ulrich had dangling in his hand.

Rain froze on the spot.

"Heh...heheh…What now, demon?"

Gold-eyes narrowed.

"I’ll have to kill you first…then kill the little one."

He reached into his cloak with his right hand, while his left hand moved further up the girl’s chin, attempting to keep her from screaming.

"Because if I don’t do away with her…" Ulrich grinned, his hand still in his cloak, "She’ll come after me when she’s olde- Ah!? Aaaaaaarggh!!"

The priest screamed in pain as the girl sank her fangs deep into his wrist. She held on for a little while, taking in as much crimson as she could. In the moonlight, Rain could see her paleness fade and colour return to her skin. In a flash, her nails lengthened into long spikes which were sent through the priest’s arm, causing him to jerk his hand away.

She was free now, but she chose not to run far away. Instead, she ran next to Rain and stood there, looking at the injured priest.

"Ah! You little witch.!"

There was no hesitation in Rain’s next move. He shot forward, grabbing Ulrich’s face with his right arm and pushing forward, ready to slam him into the ground. But Ulrich pulled his hand from his cloak, revealing a small revolver. He fired, getting Rain in the shoulder.

Rain hissed. The bullet went straight through. The vampire aborted his attack and rolled to one side. Kneeling on one knee, he looked at his wound. It was normal, no black veins, no…anything. Ulrich had use a normal gun with normal bullets. Rain rushed toward the priest again.

"You’re a fool."

Ulrich was quicker this time, lifting his hand with the crucifix pendant and planting it right on Rain’s forehead.

"No, you are the fool. Did you think that the gun would be what I killed you with?!"

Ulrich grinned as he pressed the crucifix in harder. The girl just stood there, refusing to run. Rain cried in pain as steam rose from his forehead. His eyes filled with tears as the burning pain filled his whole body. The priest’s grin slowly started to fade.

"Why…Why won’t you die?!" He gritted his teeth in frustration.

Using the last of his strength, Rain knocked his arm away with an excess amount of force, instantly breaking Ulrich’s arm. The crucifix fell to the ground. Rain’s vision blurred once more.

Before falling unconscious, he saw Ulrich run away crying with his tail between his legs, holding his broken arm before him. The girl began to push his shoulder gently, trying to wake him up, but it was of no use for now. With her own strength, she dragged the limp body to the shadows, leaning him up against the wall. She sat next to him, eventually leaning on him and closing her eyes for a while.

“Oi . . .” A black-booted foot nudged the unconscious Rain, shaking his arm so that his limp hand fell from his lap to the ground. “Oi, time to wake up, friend.” The golden-eyed vampire stirred, blinking groggily as he looked up at the bloodied Vanyel.

“How’d it go?” He asked, plopping to the ground and scooting up to lean back against the shadowed wall beside his fellow vampire. “I’m guessing you found Ulrich?” Vanyel indicated the faded cross burn on Rain’s forehead with one long finger, his eyes conveying pure sympathy devoid of any ill-founded amusement.

“Yeah,” Rain replied, reaching up to rub the burn mark self-consciously. “I broke his arm, but he got away. He had the—” His golden eyes widening in remembrance and worriment, Rain snapped his head around, looking for the girl. His sigh was one of relief as he looked down on her, still at his side, but leaning the other way against her nearly identical sister. The two snoozed comfortably despite the hard ground, their heads resting on top of one another.

“Makes me wish I had a camera,” Vanyel remarked wistfully, leaning forward to look at the two past Rain. He licked his lips then, his violet eyes flickering off to the side. “About them . . . I want . . .” Rain looked back at his new friend, a pensive expression on his face that might have hinted at some insight as to what Vanyel was going to say.

“I want to take them with me,” Vanyel finished, one hand absently playing with the hem of his long coat. “Or one, at least; the younger one. Their mother is . . . well, you saw. And I doubt they have a father, or one that continues to live. And we can’t possibly leave them on their own.” The violet-eyed vampire waved his hand at the battered church and dead bodies in the distance. “If we leave them, they will ultimately be found and . . .” His voice caught in his throat, unable to even voice the rest of that thought. Rain peered back over his shoulder at the two, apparently thinking. Finally, he nodded.

“I do as well, I think.” He said, his voice slow and thoughtful. “I think I want to take the older sister with me.”

“It won’t be easy,” Vanyel muttered, biting his tongue and speaking more to himself than Rain. “Their mother’s gone, and we’re little more than strangers. They might not want to come with us. And we’d be splitting them up.”

“We’d meet up every now and then and let them see each other,” Rain offered quickly. Vanyel nodded, but it still seemed terribly cruel. If only there were some chance that Rain would let him take both of them . . . He glanced over at his friend, who was looking down at the girls fondly. Vanyel didn’t have to see the look in Rain’s golden eyes more than once to know that the other vampire wanted to care for the older girl just as much as he wanted to care for the younger one.

Rain got up slowly and softly, not wanting to wake the two sisters. He looked at his surroundings while simultaneously tearing off a long piece of his bloodied white shirt. The sky was very dark now, the stars were just there, not shining, but standing still like white dots on black paper.

"It’s almost dawn," He said softly. He was right; the darkest hours come before the dawn. It seemed even darker because of what had happened to those two girls. The thought of waking them up and splitting them apart so suddenly made the night pitch black.

He took the shred of cloth and used it like a bandage, wrapping it around the top of his head, hiding the burn mark of the crucifix. If people see that, they might suspect something, he thought. Rain sighed softly.

"We have to split them up. They’ll be an easy target for Ulrich if we leave them together and neither you nor I will be able to look after both at once."

Vanyel nodded but before he had a chance to speak, Rain continued.

"Their father, we have to find out if he’s still alive and at least let him know what happened if he can’t take them in."

Rain turned away from Vanyel, taking a few steps forward.

"Find a place for them and yourself to stay before the sun rises, I’ll start asking around town to see if anyone knows about their father."

As he walked, part of him wanted their father to be alive; the other half wanted him to take the girl with him. He stopped walking and turned to face Vanyel slightly, brushing off those feelings in the process, beginning to focus on finding the girls’ father.

"They at least need to spend one more day with each other."

Vanyel wandered through the three trunks, at a much slower pace than last time, and with the two girls cradled in his arms. He tried to keep his thoughts focused on moving along and searching for a discreet, out-of-the-way building, but he just couldn’t keep his gaze from drifting down to the sisters. He sighed; they were too damned adorable for their own good. So intent was he on studying their young, serene faces, that he almost missed the rundown barn, despite walking a mere ten feet from it. Startled as he looked up to the see the old, moldy structure, Vanyel shook his head and drifted silently towards the great double doors. One had succumbed to old age and mold, having completely collapsed and fallen away from the frame. Stepping over the soggy pieces of wood, the violet-eyed vampire peered around the dank gloom.

The barn was empty, for the most part; containing only a few, moldy stacks of hay and the collapsing stalls on the far end. Half of a ladder lay on the ground, fallen away from the lip of a loft above the stalls. Vanyel instinctively started towards the loft, but faltered almost immediately. Sure, a loft might serve him alone; if he were discovered, he could flee easily and quickly. But with these two, escaping would be a tougher task. The dark-haired man sighed, turning to leave again. His foot crashed through the rotting floorboards. Vanyel caught himself, and checking immediately to see if either of the girls had awoken. He breathed a sigh of relief; they hadn’t. At ease now, he calmly looked down at his right leg, which had disappeared up to the calf in the broken floor. He wiggled his foot: nothing but air.

Intrigued, the vampire hauled his foot back up, using it to dislodge as much of the floorboards as he could without making too much noise. Dropping to one knee while still holding the sisters close to his body, Vanyel angled his head so that he could peer into the opening below. It was a hidden cellar, filled with moldy and rotting crates, barrels, and stacks of hay. Grinning, the vampire further broke away the soggy wooden planks, until he had an opening large enough for the three. Tucking the vampire girls in even closer, Vanyel floated up a few inches, coming down to the side and through the hole. His extra-sensitive nose wrinkled at assaulting odor of rot and mold, and he had to press it into his shoulder to keep from sneezing. Picking out the driest-looking spot, the dark-haired vampire lied the two sisters down on a stack of crates, each level shortening to form makeshift stairs. That done, the older vampire looked back up at the hole. That’d hardly do.

He floated back up through the opening, twisting in midair to swoop back down and fly into the side of a pile of hay, Spreading his arms so that he could push as much of the smelly stuff as possible, Vanyel continued his flight, shoving the pile of hay over towards the hole. Thankfully, the binding chicken wire kept the bulk of it from falling through into the hole, and the vampire stepped back to admire his work, grinning. But the grin quickly faded, turning down into a ponderous frown. Of course, it was all well-and-good to hide from the humans, but what of Rain? He’d have to be able to locate them. Almost without thinking about it, Vanyel reached up to straighten his tie, as he usually did when faced with a dilemma. He paused mid-adjust, his gaze dropping incredulously to the black strip of cloth.

His grin fully returned, the vampire loosened the knot and slipped the tie over his head, tossing it haphazardly onto the pile of hay. That would serve nicely, and would do so none too quickly either, he might add, wincing as the first golden-pink rays illuminated the leaves of the forest outside. Vanyel’s form quickly faded into mist, the silver-blue cloud dropping down and creeping under the pile of hay to disappear into the hole. Safe, Vanyel reformed, coming to a sitting position as he did so.

Jiiiiiii~

Swallowing, Vanyel peeked over at where to girls were lying. The younger one was awake, and staring at his with that large, black eyes. He swallowed again and gave an awkward smile, which faltered in the face of those blank eyes. What am I supposed to DO?

Ooc: Ah, and "Jiiii~" is the Japanese "staring sound". X3 I thought it appropriate.

Rain trudged through the dusty streets, walking from door to door like an annoying salesman.

He chuckled at this thought.

Having been turned away from another door for asking about a ‘cursed’ family, Rain entered a tavern. Almost fully intent on finding some answers on the whereabouts of the girls’ father.

The doors creaked open. The early morning drinkers stopped drinking and looked up at the person who just walked in. Their eyes followed the dark clad kid with bandage on his forehead and the shredded white shirt as he walked to the counter and sat down. Rain didn’t pay any attention to them.

He beckoned the bartender over with his finger.

The man behind the counter eyed Rain over before walking slowly across.

”Yes?”

Rain raised his head up and looked at him, “I’m looking for the father of these two girls…they both have black hair, black eyes and they’re about nine and-“

”Get out.” The bartender cut him off.

”What? Why?”

The man spoke through gritted teeth, “I don’t want nobody comin’ ‘round here to ask ‘bout some cursed filth family.”

”Those kids are orphans now!” Rain raised his voice, but lowered it as soon as the sound of scraping chairs behind him met his ears. The men behind him had stood up, ready to defend their tavern from this rowdy newcomer.

”Look,” the bartender spoke, “I don’t want no trouble…Last I heard; their dad was in some city to the east. Then I heard on that same day, that someone saw him heading out west. How can one man be in two places at once? It’s a freakin’ devil or something, man.”

”Alright, alright.” Rain calmed him down, the rest of the tavern went back to just looking at him. The vampire stood up and walked out of the tavern with all eyes on him. As soon as he left, the sounds resonated from the inside, meaning that the drinkers went back to the state they were in before Rain had entered.

Rain paused for a second, looking back. He was slightly surprised at how they were able to do that.

Time to head back to Vanyel and the girls.

Rain dashed into a nearby alley, ducking out of sight. He walked up the wall and unto a low rooftop. From there, he went rooftop-hopping until he stood at the tip of the steeple of a school, one of the tallest structures in town.

He exhaled and closed his eyes. He had to stretch his sixth sense’s radius as far as it could go.

Rain inhaled as his mind swept through the city.

He detected lots of different beings, not sure if they were good or bad. But out of all those, three stood out.

On the edge of town, in an old barn.

The vampire dashed across the town, blazing through the streets and through the air, until finally, he approached the barn. He entered softly, wondering if any of the girls were still asleep.

He froze on the spot when he saw the younger girl’s eyes on him.

Rain chuckled softly. “Eheh…did I wake you?” She shook her head.

”Is your sister awake?”

Again, the same response.

”Okay,” Rain smiled at her, “where’s Vanyel? Erm...the other guy.”

She pointed towards him as he sat there, looking at the one who had just entered.

”Yo.” He managed to get sputter out a greeting.

”Hey, Van.”

There was silence for a few brief moments. Then both opened their mouths to speak.

”What now?”