It was an extraordinarily miserable, wintery night- wind and snow swept through the region as though Mother Nature herself sought to scour away all things.

And within this veritably supernatural snowstorm was a modern structure whose style distinctly made it stick out against the rest of the surrounding city- even covered in snow.

The Saguenay police precinct.

The precinct’s structure was made up of stacked concrete blocks- seeking to emulate the rustic bases of early police stations from the city’s history. The block's vertical stacking sought to visually connect with citizens- intersecting in places to form several setbacks which drew the eye to emphasize entrances and create clearances between the station and neighboring buildings. The perimeter walls were made of sandblasted concrete panels and the setbacks were surrounded with walls of polished concrete and reflective materials. The station’s windows were framed with angled, tapered panels that reinforced the direction and stylistic choice of the setbacks. And clerestories set into the high sections of the walls would normally provide unfettered natural light and fresh air into the core of the building. Its design conveyed an air of accessibility and public service.

Tonight, however, the only natural light would have come from the full moon. Were it not completely obscured by the snowstorm’s absurdly large covering- spanning across the entirety of the night sky. And so, the only light source capable of piercing any measurable distance into the storm came from streetlights lining the roads, parking lots, and corners. And even then, their yellowish glow was nearly intangible against the combination of white-out quality snow and the dead-of-night darkness.

The entire building was partially hidden beneath a blanket of snow- mounds of powder and ice accumulating on the window edges and against the walls and alcoves of the setbacks. And the only reason the entire building, let alone the entire city, was not beneath a pile of snow was because of the fierce wind- blowing off the powdery layers of snow the moment they settled. The trees and shrubbery bordering the precinct were no longer the vibrant, aesthetically pleasing greenery they once were. Instead, they more closely resembled decrepit, hollow shadows of their former glory- leafless and stiff... trapped in a frosty stasis.

A floodlight situated into the concrete overhang of the public entrance generated enough contrast to suddenly see a person’s motionless, shadowy silhouette appear behind the glass double doors.

Howling wind whistling past alleys and between buildings. Creaking streetlights. Clouds of snowy mist rolling through the roads.

An endless, bleak expanse of swirling snow and impermeable darkness- suffocating the infrastructure of a struggling city.

The right double door silently opened- any noise that could have been associated with the movement was completely drowned out by the weather. The silhouette materialized into a haggard young man standing just at the entrance’s threshold. His street clothes were bloody and torn- practically shredded, exposing large sections of the sickly pale skin beneath to the inclement weather. However, despite his grim appearance, he stood tall, and with a frighteningly indiscernible gleam lurking in his grey eyes. The epitome of one overcoming an immense hardship- bloodied but unbowed.

The young man stepped out into a world of washed-out darkness and biting cold.

The muffled sound of the door slamming shut.

The wind immediately sought to rip away what little clothing remained attached to his form as though it were personally affronted by his presence. He remained unaffected as he walked through the ankle-deep powder- stopping at the top of wide, but shallow, incline with an ice-crusted railing down the middle leading to the sidewalk and road.

His tattered clothing and hair whipping in the wind as he stood there- a statue in the middle of a blizzard.

He cocked his head to the side.

Wind. Snow. An all-encompassing absence.

Suddenly, his head snapped to the left- eyes intently staring down the street.

Wind. Snow... a car engine, tires crunching snow!

He angled his body to face the direction of the sound.

Twin yellowish-white orbs of light, their intensity growing with every passing moment.

Hidden behind the approaching orbs of light was a dark, rectangular silhouette. And by the time the silhouette was visible, the lights finally pierced through the distant cover of snow- revealing the attached bulk of a heavy police vehicle barreling down the street.

The previously inert crimson flecks brightly flashed within the young man’s irises.

The interior of a cavernous, underground modern laboratory.

Massive rectangular floodlights flush against the rockface illuminated the laboratory's vast interior. Dozens of randomly placed plastic laminate casework constructions were spread out across the room’s extensive length. These caseworks were not made to provide a creative aesthetic- their structures were entirely modular and practical, doubling the variety of available configurations and swappable hardware. This included the steel bodied drawers, white-colored laminate cabinets with matching, multi-edged banding, and full-depth, thick shelving units. Matte-black, medium density fibreboard workbenches were positioned relatively close to these caseworks.

The workbenches were overflowing with lab equipment, journals, and shining glassware. There were hundreds of narrow-mouthed glass funnels and bottles.

Broad-mouthed, flat-bottomed beakers with easy-handling spouts sat behind sealed glass cabinets or were otherwise sitting out- filled to varying degrees with equally varying substances or materials.

Rubber-stopped conical flasks, containing unknown liquids sat atop thick, leather-bound books with fading words down their spines, while the remaining majority had synthetic rubber tubing connecting themselves or neighboring beakers. This tubing was highly flexible and resilient- especially perfect for the hundreds of complex distillation processes occurring throughout the room.

Lab stands, some with rings, others with clamps, held beakers and flasks aloft over lit propane burners- their colorful contents lightly bubbling and swirling under the influence of small magnetic stirrers.

Transparent glass test tubes and cylindrical plastic containers were everywhere- some held liquids, while others contained sparkling metals, unidentifiable organic samples, or colorless powders.

Burettes hung over hundreds of variously filled, tape-labelled beakers- their contents suspended with stopcocks.

The room’s essence was one of intellectually organized chaos. At least, it would have been, if not for the blood-curdling, agonized screams echoing through the entire complex.

“Oh, do hush now, love.” mock-pouted a feminine voice carrying infinite charisma and maddeningly seductive undertones.

The intensity of the screams exponentially increased- this time with equal amounts terror as pain.

The screaming gradually tapered into muffled whimpers, then, to an eerie silence.

A woman wearing a red, skintight, high-quality stretch fabric dress ending just past her elbows and knees stood beside a stainless-steel worktable, her arms crossed- pushing up, and further emphasizing her gravity-defying breasts. Raven-black, straight silken hair extended down to the small of her back, just above the curve of her prodigious ass. Her skin was a stunning, somewhat-tanned porcelain- expressing an ageless, unattainable vibrancy. Her eyes were deep pools of solid onyx.

She was presently scrutinizing a nude, middle-aged man with deep brown hair and average build lying on his back on the worktable. His light brown eyes were wide open, terrified, and unblinking- tears freely flowed down his cheeks and the sides of his head. The look he was giving her spoke volumes- imploring mercy. The woman had been examining his left forearm when she noticed the look.

A frown creased her inhumanely beautiful face.

“Enough of that.”

She tapped his forehead with an index finger.

A thick vein stood out against the man’s neck as though he were screaming with strain- only no sound came from his mouth. His lips were tightly shut- not even quivering. The next moment, his eyelids started wriggling and shifting as though they were alive- pure fear flashed across his eyes just before the skin of his eye lids grew, extending towards one another until they completely covered his eyes. And then the slit separating them sank and melted into the rest of the eyelid- completely sealing away his eyes.

The man became utterly motionless.

Fresh tears no longer ran down his face.

She went back to examining his forearm with clinical detachment- no longer paying heed to the subject.

She cupped her chin in one dainty hand.

“Mm- maybe...?” she mumbled, tapping the man’s right shoulder with an index finger.

Nothing happened for a few seconds, when suddenly the muscles directly over the spot she had touched wriggled beneath his skin like a colony of worms. A thin red line appeared on the outer, upper bicep. The line noticeably bulged outward- blood beading at the tip. The skin tore open- a gory, sharp chunk of bone emerging past the skin like a monolith rising out of bloody water.

The bone fragment began wavering in a mirage-like fashion before melting into an odd, quasi-liquid/solid state. The fresh blood seeping out around the wound ceased flowing as though time had stopped, then slowly moved to the wound- soaking back beneath the skin.

Once only the strange ‘bone liquid’ remained outside of the man’s body, it slowly spread out- gradually coating the entirety of his right shoulder in a thin, opaque film. The coating’s surface rippled like disturbed water- shifting and crawling across the skin like it was searching for something. Then, the liquid coating fluctuated fiercely before suddenly increasing in volume, maintaining its boundaries to his right shoulder but rising over three inches above the skin. The liquid sat like that, perfectly still and proportional- defying physics with ease.

The woman held a hand over the liquid- palm down. A flash of red light bathed the man’s shoulder.

The liquid responded instantly, morphing into an opaque, segmented spaulder and calcifying- hardening into a rock-like, bone composite material.

“Excellent!” The woman smiled- preparing to repeat the process with the ghoul’s other shoulder, when her fragmented consciousness residing within the fledgling alerted her to danger. Her victorious smile faded- replaced with a frown that was somehow just as beautiful as her smile. A look of pure murder flashed through her eyes.

“They. Fucking. Dare!?”

Her eyes turned into crimson orbs as she pulled on her connection to the fledgling and communicated with her fragmented consciousness- they would be made to suffer.

The fledgling was hers.

Her eyes slowly cleared to their original pools of onyx. She unclenched her fists and absently stared at the ghoul, then out across the laboratory and to the row of cages filled with dozens of naked, cowering humans. None of them had mouths- she had grown tired of their pleading and crying. Looking back at the ghoul’s incomplete transformation, she came to a decision.

Events were moving faster than anticipated- she needed to stall the opposition.

And she happened to have found just the man for the job.

A smile curled her lips- yes, things were turning out perfectly.

“Now then...” She said, walking over to stand on the ghoul’s other side- tapping his other shoulder.

“Practice... makes perfect.”

The young man watched the vehicle slide to a stop in the middle of the street- the back passenger door facing the opposite side of the street swung open- slammed shut. The vehicle’s back tires tossed small streams of snow into the air as it took off down the road.

A lone figure now stood in the middle of the street.

The pair silently regarded one another, unmoving; the snowstorm violently raged around them.

“Destroy him.” A furious woman’s voice commanded, echoing through the young man’s mind and soul. The crimson flecks shone even brighter- nearly overwhelming the grey.

Thump.

The young man was there one moment and gone the next.

The hairs on the back of Ye Bao’s neck stood on end as his decades of finely honed instincts screamed at him.

‘Fuck!’

His heart started racing as he ducked hard enough to produce whiplash as he tucked the rifle in close to his body and threw himself sideways into a shoulder roll. He felt something pass just over his head.

His shoulder and head sank into the powdery snow as he tucked in his legs and followed through with the momentum, managing to fluidly transition into a kneeling firing stance as he came up- reflexively unloading three rounds in the direction he had come from. There was no muzzle flash, and the already suppressed report of gunfire was further muffled by the intense weather. He also hit nothing that he could see. Probably a building- no one was taking a casual stroll this late and in this weather.

Ye Bao’s blood was boiling. Whether in anger or excitement, not even he understood. But one thing was for certain- he was having fun.

A devilish smile lit up his handsome face as he pushed his perception to its limit.

“Come on!” He jubilantly laughed against the storm, coming to a standing firing stance.

A flash of movement in his peripheral vision.

‘Gotcha.’

Ye Bao released the rifle, his figure blurring as he spun around with supernatural speed- catching the vampire’s fist in front of his face with a single hand.

The impact caused a small shockwave that blasted away any falling snow around the pair.

Black eyes stared into red-flecked grey.

Ye Bao’s arm trembled beneath the strain of holding back the strike. He gritted his teeth- a few blackened veins crawled up the side of his neck. His arm stabilized, his grip tightening and even pushing back the vampire’s hand.

The vampire cocked its head- the red flecks flashing a deep crimson.

Ye Bao suddenly found that he could no longer push the vampire’s arm back. He re-doubled his efforts- the whites of his eyes darkening.

Nothing. They were at a stalemate. That minor detail was a cold splash of reality on Ye Bao’s fiery ego. But his blood still demanded a challenge worthy of its gift- and here it stood. Ye Bao’s enjoyment evolved into sheer determination- the fire in his eyes turning into a cold promise of death. He struck with his other hand.

The vampire was faster- batting away the strike with a forearm and then slamming its forehead into Ye Bao’s face.

Stars exploded across Ye Bao’s vision as his nose broke and blood sprayed- he staggered back.

‘Too fast!’ Ye Bao thought, reeling. The pain was manageable. Pain, he knew. Pain, he understood. But that speed! How could this have been a newly risen vampire with its frighteningly powerful strength and blinding movements?

Ye Bao went on the defensive- bringing his arms in to guard his face as regained his balance and made to place some distance between himself and the vampire. He could not risk using the rifle at this range, not to mention the vampire's prodigious strength- it could easily snap the weapon in half. What he needed to do was analyze its tactics until he could find a fatal opening to exploit, while also keeping himself safe enough to act on an opening. He had learned the hard way that exploiting an opponent’s attack pattern with two broken arms was no easy feat.

Ye Bao ducked, dodged, and wove through the ankle-deep snow as the vampire relentlessly pursued- raining dozens of bone-shattering strikes against his forearms, shoulders, and chest. The pair’s figures were nothing more than indistinct, shadowy smears against wintery night backdrop- their movements crisscrossing the street as one shadow clearly chased after the other; a thick cloud of disturbed snow hung over the street as the pair churned up massive piles of powder against the wind- as though a smoke grenade had been tossed into the center of the fight.

Ye Bao was beginning to see a distinct pattern in the vampire’s attacks- it never kicked, and much to Ye Bao’s surprise and confusion, fought like someone who had never fought before. There was no stance, no timing, no counterattacking, no variation in its tactics. It almost seemed... mindless?

‘How has it killed so many people if it’s this stupid?’

Ye Bao was quickly reminded of ‘how’ when he was forced to block a strike that fractured his forearm- the momentary hesitation that came with the pain preventing him from avoiding the follow-up fist that slammed into his solar plexus.

Ye Bao cursed as he felt the armor plate protecting his torso bend beneath the impact- digging into his skin. It almost felt like that one time he had caught the edge of a shotgun blast while clearing out a dive bar.

Ignoring the pain, Ye Bao grabbed the vampire’s wrist and fiercely twisted- snap! The sound was music to his ears as he lashed out with his fractured arm, catching the vampire across the jaw- its head whipping to the side. Then, Ye Bao reached up, grabbed both sides of the vampire’s head, and returned the favor with a cruel headbutt that similarly elicited a crack as the vampire’s nose broke.

It staggered back, then flew back into a snow drift as Ye Bao unleashed a devastating snap-kick to its stomach.

Ye Bao spat a wad of blood into the snow and grabbed his nose, setting it back into place with a grunt. He rolled his shoulders back and cracked his neck, and then crouched down to fish the butt of his rifle out of the snow.

'Time to-'

Crunching snow!

Ye Bao looked up in time for the front bumper of a police cruiser to slam into his face.