“Guh...umph...gahhhh!” Alex pried open his coffin lid, sucking in air for the first time in weeks. He saw his study, tidied up but otherwise as he left it. Then the pain hit.

He would later learn it had been twenty-nine days, seventeen hours, eight minutes and forty-three seconds since the Radiant Dawn locked down the game. Now, the effect of being without blood for so long, tasting only real food but taking in nothing of any nourishment caught up with him. He felt parched, brittle. His body was grey and lean, bones sticking against his skin. His muscles were weak, but everything suddenly condensed into perfect clarity, not of his own will. He needed to feed.

Footsteps. The sounds of a door quietly creaking open. Peterson, his loyal and steadfast butler, cautiously peeking in to investigate the noise. Not that Alex recognized him as such. He was lost in his blood-trance; completely unaware of anything except the thirst for blood. Person coming? Person, filled with rich, hot, delicious blood.

Need.

Alex snarled, cold and inhuman, barely even seeing his prey in his consuming hunger. He may have lost strength and speed in his fast, but he was powered by magic and night, not just mere muscle. His lips parted to unsheathe his fangs, gripping the edge of the coffin to fling himself to his prey, and-SPLAT!

He was hit in the face by a lukewarm plastic square.

The act was so unexpected he fell back into the coffin in shock.

When he gathered himself, though he could not truly think, he could more than recognize the color of the square-scarlet, crimson, vermillion, carmine, claret, red. Without hesitation he sank his fangs into the package, greedily guzzling down the ichor like an animal. It was stale, it was cold, it was-ugh, AB negative. But it was blood.

“Nguh-gyuaaaauhh. T-Tank you, Petorson.” he rasped out, throat still dry. “More.”

“Of course sir. Just a moment. Here, to tide you over.” Peterson tossed a second bag of blood into the room, far away from himself and immediately closed the door. Alex scrambled for the bag over his protesting body, draining it like the first. He could feel the stale but unlife-giving blood start to course through his body, filling him out, giving him strength.

“Rrrrrr. Bettor. But not enuff.” he growled. Peterson had learned well. If he’d have gotten closer, Alex would have drained the butler dry without a hint of thought. As it was, it was still difficult to not take it straight from the tap when Peterson returned with a wheelbarrow full of bagged blood.

Alex slurped them down ravenously, gulping as much of the stale stuff down his gullet as fast as he could. The beast needed to feed.

Eventually, far too soon, the whole wheelbarrow was empty and Alex licked the crimson wine off his fingers, the room littered with empty bags.

“More?” he asked, color and mass starting to come back to his body.

“I’m afraid that’s all we had, sir. An entire month’s worth drained in twenty minutes.”

“Hmm. Vell, I haven’t fed in a month, so it vorks out.” Alex said, stretching and wincing at all the pops coming from his...everything. “I still need exercise. A hunt. And to feed. That vasn’t enough.”

“I suspected as much, sir. However sir, there is a slight problem with that. A representative from the Council is on hold, sir. They were gracious enough to allow me to feed you first, but I fear the repercussions if they wait any longer.” Peterson said delicately, holding up a cell phone. Alex hung his head in his palm.

“Ugh. Yes, very vell. I suppose I should deal vith them at some point.” he said distastefully, taking the phone.

“Ah ah ah, Mr. Lonescu. You really shouldn’t be talking like that in your position. We are the ones who will decide what will be done with you. I wouldn’t take that tone, it might not be wise.” a smug voice spoke from it. Alex rolled his eyes.

“That’s because you’re a simpering, cowardly fool who can’t begin to comprehend not all of us are vimps who live on our knees, Kruger. Get Vilhelm on the line, ve’ll all get this over vith faster and smoother than dealing through a middleman. Get him before I rip you in tvo and drink down the blood. Go, shoo, shoo.” he said dismissively.

“Um, y-yes. I’ll, I’ll fetch the Master then.” Kruger said sheepishly.

“And stop calling him that! It’s the twenty-first century, and you are an employee! You aren’t a candidate for vampiredom for another twenty-five years, knock it off you Renfield vannabe!” Alex snapped. He rubbed his head. God that guy was annoying.

A moment later, a crusty German voice chuckled in his ear.

“Haloo, Alexandru. I see you’ve had quite an adventure. Heh heh. The Council isn’t very happy with you, you know.”

“I do know. Trust me, I’m not exactly pleased vith the events myself.” Alex sighed.

“Indeed. But this is a problem. I know it’s not your direct fault, but you’ve drawn the eye of the public to yourself. And in turn, us. Now the situation isn’t unsalvageable, but we must discuss this, and you will most likely be punished. I don’t think you’ll be killed, unless you play your cards wrong. I’ll do my best, but you’re still in hot water. That’s why you’ll be flying in by 1 pm tomorrow.” Wilhelm said. Alex sighed again.

“Unfortunately, that cannot be done. Peterson! Prep my private jet. Ve fly to California in an hour!” he called to his butler.

“Of course sir.”

“Are you serious? I thought you were smart, Alexandru. Declaring rebellion right in the ear of a Council member?” Wilhelm said dryly.

“Not at all, good sir. In fact, I’d like to arrange a video conference vith the full Council. I’ll explain on my vay to California. I must also request three passes to officially inform humans of vampirism.” he said. There was a mombnt od silence on theother end of the line.

“Asking for favors while you’re in trouble? And dismissing the Council of Blood with a mere video call. Tsk Tsk. You know they have a hard time with technology.” Wilhelm said.

“Forgive me, but there isn’t much time. I must be in California as soon as possible, I vill explain on the vay.”

“And with what right do you have to disrespect the Council like this?” Wilhelm said, the threat obvious in his tone. Alex rolled his eyes.

“Come on man, trust me on this. I vouldn’t be asking otherwise. Just get the Council together and I’ll explain everything. You owe me for taking care of that little problem back in Prague, remember?” he said sternly.

“Erm, yes, ah, well. Of...course. I will gather the others. We will contact you shortly. I will have Kruger call you in ninety minutes. That will be enough time to ready yourself, correct?” Wilhelm coughed embarrassedly.

“That vill be fine.”

“But answer me this, then. What do you need to do in California, that requires you to ignore the summons of the Council?” Even on the phone, Wilhelm could hear the rumble of Alex’s stomach.

“I vill explain all to everyvun at once. But it is simple enough. In short, I am going to hunt.” Alex said, licking his grinning fangs.

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Jamie groaned. He twitched, feeling his body move for the first time in a month. Felt like an ancient mummy coming to life, thin and weak. With shaky arms, he reached up and slid the helmet off his head, gasping at how skinny he’d become. He’d never been anything close to brawny, but seeing his skin stretched over his bones was frightening. He flexed his hands, feeling the crinkle of tendons beneath.

“Ah!” He looked over as the door opened. Lizzy was there, hands over her mouth as she teared up.

“Hey there.” he grinned weakly, struggling to sit up.

“No, wait! I mean-hi! You’re awake! You’re alive! Oh my god, you’re back!” the eleven-year-old sobbed as she practically leapt at him, crushing him in a hug. “Don’t ever leave me again! Don’t try to get up, just relax!”

“Shhh, shhh. It’s alright. I’m awake now. I’m not going anywhere.” Jamie said softly, petting her head with his withered fingers. It was a little embarrassing, but as small as she was, right now she had no trouble putting both arms around his entire torso.

It was then that her hair fell to the side, and he could see the bruises on her neck.

“Lizzy. How did you get those? No, what am I saying.” he said distastefully, recognizing all too well the pattern of hand-shaped bruises. Lizzy hurriedly pulled back and pulled her collar up.

“It’s not as bad as it looks. You’ve gone through worse, and I can take it. I’m tough.” she tried to laugh, but it was obvious she was putting up a front. He’d done it enough times for her sake to know.

“Lizzy. I-Lizzy.” He hung his head in shame. How could he let this happen? He should’ve been there. “I-I’m sorry.”

“For what? It wasn’t your fault. It was on the news all month! I can’t believe-oh! You gotta be hungry! I can make you soup, dad showed me how to-eek!”

“I’ll bet.” Jamie said darkly, poking at the back of her thigh. He knew if she took off her jeans there’d be strap marks from the belt. It was how he’d been ‘taught’ to make dinner too. He shook his head. No, this couldn’t stand. Him, he could take it. Her? Lizzy? Yeah, nope, not happening. He took in a deep breath, feeling his thin chest swell. Could he even do it, weak as he was?

His room, illuminated by the golden rays of the late October sun, suddenly darkened. Lengthening shadows cast the room in murky blackness, a cloud shifting over the sun. Jamie had always found the dark safer than the light. You could be seen, found. But now, it felt more...welcoming. He nodded, sighing. It wasn’t whether it could or couldn’t be done. He had to do it anyway. No matter what.

“Lizzy, this’s going to sound weird, but I need you to do what I say without complaining, okay? Where’s dad right now?” he said carefully.

“Huh? Um, he’s at the store right now. Least he said he was going there after work.” she said.

“Good. Go to your room. Pack a bag, a couple days worth of clean clothes and personal stuff, not too much. Gotta pack light to move fast. I’ll get-ugh.” Jamie tried to sit up, but discovered a bedpan underneath his blankets. He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Oh. The doctor came since we couldn’t move you, he put that there since you were basically in a coma. I’ve uh, been changing it.” Lizzy said sheepishly. Jamie chuckled.

“Al...alright then. Yeesh. I’ll get a quick shower then. Pack up while I do.” He swung his legs from the bed and got to unsteady feet. He looked down at his pale toes. His legs were shaking, but he could walk. He hoped.

No, that was wrong. He would.

“Jamie, what’s going on? Why’m I packing a bag? Are we-are we leaving?” she asked, incredulous.

“Yup. Christie had the right idea. I swore he’d never touch you, and he did. That’s the last strike, and we’re out.” he nodded firmly.

“Oh. R-Really?” she said, eyes wide. She didn’t want to stay here with their father either, but she was old enough to know what happened to runaways.

“Yeah. Go! I gotta get clean.” Jamie commanded. She ran off, and Jamie was left with the task of washing himself.

Adopting a shuffling gait, he had to lean on the wall to get down the hall, but he managed. Every last nerve screamed in agony, and standing under the hot water pounding down on his shoulders was a Herculean task, but he managed. He only fell down twice while towelling off.

Eventually, he limped back to his room and Lizzy helped dress him when he saw she had packed for him as well.

“Whatever did I do to deserve you?” he wondered aloud.

“Listen, the doctor said you should take it easy after you wake up. He said if you pushed yourself too hard it’d make it harder for you to get back to normal, or even make it so you wouldn’t.” Lizzy said nervously, forehead crinkled. He chuckled and hugged her.

“If I don’t push myself a little, it’ll be bad for the both of us. I’ll be fine. It’s my body, I know if I’m doing too much, and I’m good for now. I’ll rest on the train. You got my stash from under the floorboard?”

“Uh, y-yeah.” She handed over the wad of crumpled, faded bills. $319.67, his total life savings from relatives at Christmas and a part-time job, the leftovers from getting the NeWorld system.

He glanced over at the desk, a sword through the middle of the Real Fantasy Online logo, Spot breathing fire on the cover. He smiled.

“Good, should be enough. If not, we’ll have to figure it out.”

“Do you wanna bring your game system and laptop too? I know it was expensive.” Lizzy asked tentatively.

“Nah, we don’t need it.”

“Okay, time out! Who are you and what have you done with my real brother? First you wake up, then immediately say we’re leaving, and now you’re acting all...I don’t know, like...I don’t know!” Lizzy said. It wasn’t hard to pin down, but there was no way she could ever call her brother tough or cool. “Did-did the brainwashing thing really work!?” she exclaimed suddenly. He laughed and hugged her.

“Nah, we made sure of that.”

“What? Did you stop it yourself!?” Jmaie was never one to boast or lie, so when she heard that Lizzy’s eyes bugged out.

“Kinda. It was a...team effort.” he said, recalling Lina’s words. “It’s a long story, I’ll explain on the way. We’ve got a long trip, after all.”

“O-Ok. But I think we should take it anyway. You spent a lot on it, so we should be able to sell it if we need to, right?” she asked. Jamie blinked. He hadn’t thought of that.

“That’s why you’re the best.”

Jamie’s legs were still weak, so he had to lean on his little sister to get down the stairs, one step at the time. He frowned at the dingey state of the house, flies buzzing around the dirty dishes in the sink, the trash overflowing in the bags, the empty beer and liquor bottles strewn about. He shook his head. THis place wasn’t his problem anymore.

“Sorry. I haven’t got a chance to clean the kitchen in a bit yet.” Lizzy said apologetically.

“No, it’s fine. You shouldn’t be the one in charge of all this stuff anyway. Sorry about the weight.” he said. He was wearing his backpack, she had her backpack stuffed full, and the duffel bag with the NeWorld system and sundries in it. A lot for an eleven-year-old girl, but she carried on as even as she could. Jamie wrinkled his nose at the congealed grease in the frying pan on the stove and moved on. The traditional exit for Jamie and Lizzy was the kitchen door, so that’s where they headed. If they’d gone from the front, they might have seen the car in the driveway.

Keys jingled and the front door swung open, thudding boots and muffled grumbles audible over a plastic bag. Jamie and Lizzy both froze.

“Goddamn kid...can’t keep a house like she should. Lives here too, damnit.” Jamie’s father rounded the hall and stopped, staring at the pair trying to leave. “Huh? You’re up? Good, you can…” His eyes took in the bags on their shoulders and narrowed. “Going somewhere, boy?” he said, low and flat. That tone terrified Jamie. Nothing good ever followed it.

He could feel Lizzy tremble underneath his arm, petrified with fear. This was no way for a child to live. He slid off his backpack to Lizzy, taking a deep breath and trying to steady his aching body.

“A-A-As a m-matter of fact, y-yes. S-She can’t live like this. I can’t l-live like this either. S-Since you’re p-probably not g-gonna c-change, we gotta g-go.” Jamie said, forcing the words out. He made himself stand as tall as he could, instincts screaming at him to curl up, and was keenly aware his father towered over him. The large man’s muscles were hard from construction work, and Jamie had only gotten weaker. Still, his sister was behind him. That was more than enough reason to step in front.

“Oh? You think I need to...change?” his father said, turning dark. He dropped the bag, bottles spilling out. Jamie saw a couple were already empty. “Little goddamn bastard. Think you know better than me? Think things need to change, huh?” He cracked his knuckles. “Yeah, things need to change around here. Spend too much time on those goddamn games. That’s gonna change. You’re gonna get that job of yours back, and hand over what you make to me then. Then maybe I can finally fix this rathole up. And no lip from either of you, got it? Not like that whore sister of yours.” He stood in front of Jamie, thunderous. Jamie blinked back tears. This had happened so many times, why did he always have to cry?

“Quit crying, you little bitch!” Jamie’s head snapped to the side, cheek red from his father’s slap. “God damn, not even up a day and you’re weeping like a pissy little girl! God boy, man up!”

“Y-Yessir.” Jamie said, looking down. It was the surest way to avoid a hard beating. He could feel Lizzy trembling behind him.

“Good. Now get this place clean. Liz, there’s some beans in the cabinet and franks in the fridge. Heat ‘em up, I’m hungry.” their father commanded, staring down at Jamie. “And put those bags down. Bad enough that whore left, won’t have you going too.” he growled. Lizzy sighed and moved to make dinner. But Jamie’s hand stopped her.

“No. W-We’re l-leaving.” he said.

“Huh?”

Jamie could feel their eyes on him. He could feel Lizzy’s pale, terrified gaze, his father’s murderous expression, even without looking up. But he could feel another set of eyes, staring at him from the shadows. Not judging, but expecting. Waiting to see if he could live up to a certain standard. They were of course, red, glowing, and evil.

“What was that, you little bastard!” Jamie’s father yelled. Jamie stared him straight in the eye. He was terrified beyond reason. His father, face red and scowling, rumbled like a volcano.

But Jamie had fought towering beasts, climbed mountains, thrown down with tyrants, rode a freaking dragon, and had won the respect of a vampire. His father was large, but even now Jamie could see a small black-coated figure leaping forward into danger to confront it. And if Alex could, why couldn’t Jamie?

Time seemed to slow as his father raised his fist to beat him like a gorilla. There were precious few moments, and fewer options, but they were there. Jamie could feel a monster behind him, challenging him to find a way. It was real life, so had no stats or spells, and he was in a weakened state. He might be able to do something normally, but it was a no go right now. They had to leave, and make sure his dad couldn’t follow. There were no magic weapons, no normal ones either, but...aha!

Jamie moved, ignoring his protesting body to grab the frying pan off the stove and hold it before his face, flat up. His dad’s knuckles impacted the cast iron at full force.

“Aaaaugh!” He fell back, clutching his hand.

Jamie grit his teeth, the force of the blow nearly tearing the pan out of his hands, his muscles somehow both numb and on fire. But it wasn’t over yet.

“You…!!” Jamie saw pure murder in his father’s eyes. This was rage beyond what he’d seen before. His dad reached out, a snarl on his face. So Jamie whapped him across that snarl. “Ooph! Ugh, yo-ipe!” Jamie swung with all his might, small as it was, edge-first into his father’s groin.

He collapsed to the ground, whimpering in pain.

Jamie let the frying pan drop, putting his hands on his knees and panting. God, this was so much harder in the real world. His father was crumpled at his feet, mouthing “you bastard...you bastard…” over and over. He kept trying to get up, but every time moaned in pain and curled back up. Jamie stood up.

“Right! C’mon, let’s go!” he ordered, and Lizzy opened the door. He had to lean on her as they walked out and limped down the street, but it was done. They were free.

“Holy crap! Ok, ok...ok ok ok.” Lizzy muttered. “What the crap? What happened in that game? And where are we going?”

“It’s a long story, I’ll explain on the way. But where we’re headed, I can’t say for certain. He could’ve given me an address, the old bastard.” Jamie chuckled. “But we’ll figure it out. What I do know is, where we’re headed? It’s a good place. We’ll be welcome there, guaranteed.”

“Really?” Lizzy asked, huffing. The walk was long, and she was small, but for the first time in a long time, she was feeling hopeful.

“Yup. After all, I doubt he thinks he’s done with me after only a month.” Jamie smiled as they limped to the train station, battered and bruised, but unbroken, and free at last.

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“Aaaaugh!”

“Nooooo!”

“Crap! Crap! Fu-” Crnch!

“The gunfire fell silent with the voices of his soldiers. Randal Holt glanced back nervously, his .44 Magnum locked and loaded, but shaking in his hands. He cursed. The hell was that thing!?

“S-Sir, we need to move!” a soldier cried.

“You don’t think I know that!? But we gotta make sure the system’s clear of every last trace of us!” he said, typing furiously at the console. He glanced at Hansen, doing the same on another, his entire face discolored and swollen. Had to show that little ass his appreciation for Lucien’s little mutiny. The only reason Hansen was still alive was because they needed to erase as much of their digital tracks as possible. Then that monster showed up.

Randal cursed again. How! How had he found them! The cops had the entire OceanView studio on lockdown for weeks, and they hadn’t found a thing! Then all of a sudden this guy showed up and started a one-man assault, and he was winning!

His men eyed the door nervously, weapons drawn and pointed at it, nervous as all hell. This was ridiculous!

“Relax, damn it! If he comes in just kill him!” Randal barked.

“Yessir.” chorused around him, dull and lifeless, said by rote, not enthusiasm. Randal scowled, but got back to work. It wasn’t like he couldn’t hear their whispers anyway.

“Easy for him to say, the guys up top’re gone.”

“...was there when he got in, talking with Pines, then bam! Shoves his hand right through Tony’s chest!”

“How’s he getting us so fast? Do bullets even work?”

“...climbing the goddamn walls like Spider-Man…”

“...just squats down and starts lapping up blood like a dog!”

Randal grit his teeth, fingers angrily clacking on the board. Didn’t these asswipes know he needed to concentrate?

“Yo! Shut up everyone! I-” They already had. Everyone’s focus was locked up on the hatch to the outside. It was turning, opening slowly. Every gun in the room was pointed at it.

“Don’t-hrrg-shoot! It’s only me!” came their benefactor’s voice. Dan, the vice-president of OceanView studios came down the ladder and slammed the steel trap door shut. “Thanks a lot, assholes! You nearly left me high and dry!”

“Well someone had to make sure all the evidence leading to us was gone!” Randal snapped.

“Fine. Move over, I can help. Jesus, this’s a nightmare. I thought you guys could handle anything! But first you’re beaten in a videogame, with complete control of it, and now some swat team’s shooting up the place!” he said.

“We didn’t see no swat team, cops ain’t been around for weeks. That’s all us.” a soldier said grimly, his Uzi still pointed at the door.

“I don’t know where that bastard Richelu found him, but he’s obviously good then. But not even he knows about the sub-basement, so there’s no way he can follow.” Dan said.

“Maybe, maybe not. That guy ain’t human.” the soldier said. Randal slammed his hand on the table.

“Enough’a this nonsense! I dunno what you thought you saw, but he’s flesh and blood like everyone else!” he shouted.

“Especially blood.” Everyone stared in shock at the trapdoor, with what looked like smoke pouring in through the hinges.

“Gas! Cover your mouths!” Randal barked, but it was too little, too late, and the wrong form of attack. The mist surged through the cracks around the door, wrapped around one of his men, then coalesced into a tall, broad, well-dressed man with white hair. He snarled, grabbed the helpless soldier in an inexorable embrace, and with a vicious jerk bit deeply into his neck.

“Light him up!” Bullets flew but the intruder was already moving, leaving the bitten man to take the assault. Alex tumbled behind a desk, guns blazing and shredding the cover to pieces in mere seconds, but that was more than enough time for him to escape.

“Gentlemen! I am Alexandru Friedrich Campanella du Fontaine de la Bridore Lonescu! You have wronged myself and many others, and I have come for your heads for revenge!” he bellowed, appearing out of mist behind them. The first two he took by surprise, snapping their necks with one hand each. Before their bodies hit the ground, he had dashed to another one, grabbing his neck and launching a knee with the force of a missile. It hit the man’s chest and he fell, the life fading from his eyes. Every organ and bone in his torso had been splattered.

Now the guns swung to him, or rather, where he was. He moved slow enough they could track him, and they opened fire...on the man Alex had ducked behind. He jittered and jiggled, then fell to the floor in a bloody mess.

“Ah vell. More than enough of you vhere that came from!” Alex chuckled, backflipping to the wall and climbing up it backwards like a spider, hissing at them. A few cut and ran, trying to get to the ladder and the freedom the door afforded. Alex smirked. “Von’t be that easy!”

He dropped to the ground, in front of a larger, portlier soldier. He screamed as Alex lifted him above his head, grunting with effort. Hmm, this man was either incredibly fond of Twinkies, Alex had not reached his full health yet, or both. Plenty of opportunity to top off though.

He hurled the crying man to the ladder at impossible speeds, bursting on impact like a watermelon. The soldiers climbing up shrieked and slipped on the blood and viscera now coating the rungs.

“No, no! No vun gets avay. I von’t have satisfaction until you are gone!” he said admonishingly, wagging a finger and grinning an evil grin.

“DIe you monster!” One of them bothered to take the time to aim, out of Alex’s field of vision. The bullet went through his skull, splattering it on the wall. He fell.

And stumbled, catching himself. He turned a cold glare on the trembling soldier. They watched as the wound closed itself automatically, regrowing bone, skin, and hair. The man wept and put the gun to his own head.

“No.” Alex was there, grinding the bones in his wrist to dust, the cry of agony ignored. “I vill kill you all. However, in the face of your skill and bravery, I vill grant you a qvick death.” he said, karate chopping the man’s vertebrae into pieces, sure as a hangman’s noose. The others screamed and cried, or shouted in desperate anger, but it was no use. Alex swept through the room like the grim reaper, bringing death with every touch. Whether that was a hand piercing through a body, a kick breaking the weaker mortals into pieces, or a bite draining them to the last drop, fuelling Alex’s dark powers and keeping him whole from the bullets entering and leaving his body like air.

Eventually, there were only two left. Dan, the Radiant Dawn’s benefactor and mole, scrambling on hands and knees to get away, held fast by his belt in Alex’s hands. Terror drove him, but his previous actions had ended him.

“I believe you are the vun who helped these fine gentlemen vith their project, even setting them up in your very own building. Very clever. It’s always darkest underneath the lighthouse, yes? But you really shouldn’t have done that.” Alex said, amused.

“N-Nooo! It’s his fault! It’s all Devan’s fault! He couldn’t stay on budget! He didn’t credit anyone! He drove me to this! He-” He received a slap that broke his jaw.

“I am not concerned vith vhy you did this, only that you did. You covered your tracks vell, but the Council of Blood has vays of tracking info beyond your visdom.” Alex said, reaching down to throttle him. He squeezed, and squeezed, and squeezed. Dan didn’t last long before the pressure was too much, his head popping off his neck like the last bit of toothpaste. Alex calmly wiped the splatter off his hands, glancing at the shaking Randal, holding an empty gun and a knife.

“And you are the ringleader of this circus, vun Randal Holt, leader of the Radiant Dawn, yes?” he said.

“What the hell are you!?” Randal shrieked, clicking the empty gun, his numb hand unable to do anything else.

“I am Alexandru Friedrich Campanella du Fontaine de la Bridore Lonescu. And I am an immortal vampire. Cease that nonsense, it is annoying.” He kicked the gun away, Randal bowed back from the force of it. He clutched his arm, stinging and bleeding. It felt like it’d been nearly ripped off!

He stared fearfully at the...the goddamn vampire. Christ it was like a bad joke, but the remains of all his men were strewn about around him. Hansen’s head, half-gone, flopped on his knee. Such dreams, such skill and ambition, gone in an instant. The fury Randal held for him was snuffed out, replaced by blind fear. He had to calm down and think, but that monster was still here, kneeling in front of the intact corpses, sliding a...needle into the flesh?

He hooked up medical bags produced from his coat, and turned the devices on. They began to automatically pump the blood to the bags.

“For later.” he said when he noticed Randal staring. “This vay I don’t have to drain three people every night. People notice things like that.” he chuckled, then stood up. He loomed over Randal, approaching like an enormous black wall. “But rest assured, your fate vill not be the same.”

“Wh-What do you want from me?” Randal asked in a small voice. He felt like he was five years old again, his daddy ready to spank him. Alex scowled.

“Exacting mine vengeance. You see, little soldier boy, I’ve read the file they have on you. You’ve taken several jobs from the Council’s shell corporations over the years, and they are very thorough in keeping records of those they come into contact vith. Too bad. Had you decided to be content vith merely taking money for your mercenary vork, you vould have lived a long, healthy life.” Alex tilted his head, considering. “Longer than you did, anyvay.”

Alex grabbed Randal’s head in his meaty palm, nails digging into his scalp. Randal grunted and thrust his knife at his throat.

“Please.” Alex said, slapping the knife away with bored contempt. “Don’t make this harder for yourself. Face your execution vith at least a modicum of dignity, vill you?” Randail shrieked and kicked, trying to tug his arm off and run. “Figures.” Alex lifted the man off the ground, the immense pressure making him moan. But that was nothing compared to the heart-stopping intensity of the red eyes he was suddenly level with.

“You see, in my efforts to escape the doldrums of veary centuries, I vas playing Real Fantasy Online at the time. I am a monster, so I cannot pass judgment on your reprehensible scheme. You nearly stole the lives of thirteen million, for some kind of plan to...rule the vorld or something?”

“T-To make a…” Randal started, but Alex violently shook him.

“I care not for the reason vhy. You did, and so trespassed upon myself, and countless others. Subjecting us to a fate beyond cruel; to be made slaves, not just in body, but in mind and spirit as vell.” Randal was pulled closer to Alex’s face, to those baleful red eyes that glowed with the fires of Hell. He screamed at his body to take a swing, shove, fight his way free, but it was beyond listening. Even his trembling had subsided, every last part of him growing still before the terrible gaze of that cobra. He dimly realized he couldn’t feel his heartbeat. Alex’s fangs gleamed in the light of the monitors.

“You nearly exposed everything, you stupid, stupid svine of a man. Let this be a varning for your next life.” The pressure from Alex’s fingers was mounting to unbearable levels. “Those who cry out for blood eternally shall taste their own.”

Alex clenched, and Randal barely had time to cry out as Alex crushed his head, skull, brains, and all. He even gave the ultimate insult a vampire could give, and threw the body away still seeping blood.

Feeling much lighter, he wiped the gore from his palm and contentedly collected the bags of blood, five weeks’ supply to make up for what he’d missed. Humming to himself, he ascended in mist form, unlocking it for later. A cleaning crew from the Council would be there shortly, to erase the evidence and sort out the mess. He smiled; they would certainly have to earn their paychecks tonight. He’d been feeling...slightly miffed.

Under cover of darkness, he slipped unseen to the car waiting at the edge of the parking lot. The bags went into the coolers of ice, and would have to get back to Peterson in New York alone. He started the car and grinned. His personal business done, now all that was left was the Council’s directive.