#might continue

And they were holding strong. You knew they were. Because you'd be dead if they told these people who you were.

That's at least what you suspected. Because why else would they be asking for your name over and over again?

Your cell was a metal storage unit. One of those long containers ferried on ships with added chains to keep you securely in place. Arms over your head, your fists cuffed at odd angles and your feet barely touching the cold ground- you swung lazily back in forth. Twitching whenever you heard one of your boys cry out…

Hold on… You wanted to tell them. Hold on just a little longer and I'll get you all out of here.

But you never had a chance to promise them this. Your captors tortured them outside your container but never dragged their unconscious bodies in for you to see. They only gloated about it.

Waving their busted knuckles in your face, forcing you to look at the blood that caked their fists. Spitting insults and smirking about how the youngest recruit couldn't see the punches coming because his eyes were swollen shut.

They must like how you looked dangling, helpless, but so full of rage your eyes promised silent vengence.

You couldn't do anything to help them…your team…your boys…they were just out of reach…

Rain fell heavily beyond the metal cell. So thunderous were these fat drops that you could barely hear your own thoughts. A chill began to creep into your skin, giving you some respite against the ache that burned through your limbs.

Hours would pass like this. Days, even. You weren't sure how long you've been hanging in this dark prison.

Between being unconscious, hunger and the pain; your reality was beginning to warp together into blurred images of fractured faces.

The door to your cell opened. Spilling bright white light into the dark container from a man's torch strapped to his head. He blinded you, making you wince, as he said something- but you couldn't hear him over the storm.

Water pooled in behind him as the wind howled outside. It was freezing! You almost growled at the man to shut the damn door.

"Hungry, bitch?" The man's voice was barely audible over the rain now he was closer. He placed something at your feet.. a plate of porridge..still steaming with heat straight out of the pot. "Tell me your name and I'll let you eat."

It was the same tactic everytime. They would offer you something- food, clothes, a break from the pain but would ask for your name in return.

And everytime you said nothing.

You were pretty sure you haven't said a word since you were captured. Other than one order to your team as you were dragged to the ground- "Don't tell them anything!"

And even here, even when your stomach clenched painfully and your mouth tried to salivate with the smell of sweet porridge, your lips stayed sealed.

The torch jolstled as the man laughed. "Suit yourself. But I ain't feeding ya. Maybe a few minutes of-"

There was a crack of bone and the blinding light snapped to the left. The man crumbled to the ground with a heavy thud, spilling the bowl's contents over your feet, and in his place was Levi. One of your boys.

He nearly tripped over the body. Gasping and cursing as he stumbled, holding his side.

"Hang on, Captain. Have to find the damn keys." Levi's voice sounded rough and he moved with a limp, bending over with a soft grunt as he patted down the dead man's sides.

You could have fainted with relief if the situation wasn't so dire. "The others?" Your own voice sounded foriegn to your ears. As rough as sandpaper.

"Andy and Riley are outside." Levi explained, finding the keys he shuffled over to your hanging form and reached up to uncuff your bleeding wrists. He winced as he stretched. And this close, you could smell the blood, bile and piss on him.

His entire face was swollen and bruised. You spotted missing teeth when he continued talking. "Sammy is trying to find a radio and Tye…he can't see…"

"Where is he?" You asked, grunting as your arms fell to your sides. Your knees buckled and you fell to the floor with a crash of leadened limbs and bloodied skin.

"He told us to leave him-"

"Where. Is. He?" You spat through your teeth, clenching against the pain as you forced your legs to carry you. Snatching up the dead man's weapon as you practically crawled over him.

Levi aided where he could. But he wasn't in any state to help you. His own wounds were blatant in the way he walked, barely able to hold himself upright- there was no chance he could carry your wieght as well.

"Across camp, to the south by the barracks." Levi told you. Pointing towards a series of buildings that was lit up by the lights circling the camp. The rain made everything sparkle but foggy, as if you were looking through a misted window towards a city. "They tied us up against the fence. Riley got loose. Came looking for you before bouncing."

You ducked behind a vehicle parked just outside your container. You spotted Andy across the way, hidden amongst the shadows of a large canvas tent. Only visible to you when he shifted to catch your attention. You nodded towards him. Then turned to Levi, twitching when Riley materilized out of the rain. Sliding underneath Levi's arm to support him.

"Do you have a rendevous point with Sam?" You asked and Riley nodded.

"West side of the camp. Once he's found a radio or called for aid, he'll meet us there."

"Get yourselves over here and if you have an opening to go, take it." You said and handed Riley the gun. He looked confused and you saw the arguement in his eyes. "You're my responsibility. Including Tye. You focus on getting everyone out. I'll make sure Tye meets up with you."

Out of your boys, Riley had stepped up more than once to take control of a situation. He was smart; probably too smart for his own good, but he was always the first to take on the role others shied away from.

He stepped up. Just as you knew he would in this moment.

Riley looked at the gun, to you and then to Levi and nodded. "See you soon, Captain." Was his farewell before hauling Levi out of cover. Andy followed suit. Passing close enough to touch your shoulder before hurrying after Riley.

The three of them disappeared into the rain and you forced your body to move. The camp was empty. The residents were hiding inside out of the rain. Leaving the muddy grounds open for you to trek across camp entirely unseen.

There were no watch-towers. No guards patrolling. A big mistake on these fuckers part. But quite fortunate for you.

Because you managed to find the posts your boys were tied up to quickly. Water mixed with blood in shallow puddles and the cut ropes from your teams capture were left laying in the rain.

Tye, however, was nowhere to be seen.

You used the ground to track him. Amongst the mess of boot-prints and deep tracks from cars, you found a fresh trail of deep grooves in the wet dirt.

Someone being dragged, kicking and flailing, by three people.

You followed it into a small shed just a small ways from where your boys had been tied up.

And you heard the commotion before you even opened the door. Even with the rain and distant thunder; the sound of fists striking flesh, threats and demands made on laughing voices; told you exactly what was happening before you even opened the door.

Three men had Tye in a chair. Unbound but his arms grappled behind his back by the third man. The other two were taking turns punching Tye's stomach. Forcing his head back so they could strike him across the face with their knuckles.

The poor kid's face was swollen to the point of bursting. His eyes were closed, bloodied and dappled with color. His clothes were torn and you spotted angry red welts across his exposed chest… the rage from before burned through you and the man holding back Tye's arms, looked up to see a blur of fury charging into his comrade.

The first man you tackled died with his own knife buried into his throat. The second lunged for a weapon but you kicked his legs out from under him, your boot then coming down on the back of his head- knockng him out cold.

The third tried using Tye as a shield, but when your boy sensed the oppotunity, he threw back his head and cracked his scalp against his captor's nose. It gave him enough leverage to tear away from the man and allow you to throw the fucker against a wall.

You slammed his head three times against the bricks and he crumbled like a sack of potatoes.

"C-Captain?" It broke your heart to hear such a happy kid sound so scared. He could barely stand.

"Let's get you out of here." You replied in a soft tone, letting his hands find yours as he reached out for you. Blind to the room, you threw his arm over your shoulders and guided him out of the building.

"The others-"

"They're on their way out. Surely, you didn't think I was going to leave you behind." You assured him, pulling his wieght onto you, despite your own body wanting to fall face first into the cool mud. "I got you."

Your words seemed to break the last of his resolve. He all but collasped against you, mumbling incoherent words until you hushed him. The two of you stumbled through the rain, keeping to the shadows as much as you could. The storm was getting worse.

The wind howled like a beast. Clawing at the pair of you with enough force to almost topple you both over.

Almost there… You told yourself. The west side fence had a hole in it. Cut recently, you imagined, by your boys and their rush for freedom. You didn't spy anyone waiting around…until Riley stepped out of the shadows like the damn wraith he was, and took Tye from you.

"Sammy phoned home." Riley hurried said, easing Tye through the fence first. "But we need to leave. He had to shoot a few to get back to us. It won't be long until they're found."

You nodded, letting your boys crawl to freedom first before following. You took Tye's other side and together with Riley, dragged him out of the mud and into the forest beyond the camp.

You got maybe a few feet into the trees before a sirens split the night open and suddenly the camp behind you flared to life.

A glance over your shoulder allowed you a glimpse of many bodies rushing for vehicles, sprinting through the camp until someone spotted the fence and began following.

You took the weapon from Riley and shoved your boys up a slope. "Go! Keep running and do not look back!"

"Captain!" Your boys shouted after you. But you were already running, sprinting until you found the first man that wasn't your team and fired. The body fell with a hole through his skull and the shot boomed through the storm. Your pursurers dove to the ground, shouts of warning filled the forest before returning fire forced you to duck behind cover.

Using the thick trunks to shield you from a hail of bullets, you ran into the storm and away from your boys.

You didn't stop until you ran out of bullets. A trail of corpses followed you until you no longer heard the enemy shouts.

You weren't even sure how long you've been running. Your legs ached and your lungs never had enough air. It was a miracle you haven't been caught already.

The first rays of sunlight trickled through the clouds. When did it stop raining? You don't remember the dark storm dispersing.

At least they're not shooting at me anymore.

You stumbled to a stop. Tripping over a tree root, you collasped against a sturdy trunk and leaned against it. Your breathes came out in heavy wheezes. Your sight faded in and out of focus.

"Don't you dare faint." You growled at yourself. "You cannot run all this way just to faint right now."

Your little pep-talk was interrupted by voices echoing through the fog. They sounded distant but with each whispered word, you made out they were closing in.

Pushing off your tree, you kept running. More or less, moving as quickly as your body allowed through an endless sea of grey cloud and dark trees. Until you stumbled onto the porch of a house. Long since abandoned by its owners, with decaying wooden walls and broken glass windows; but it would do.

You climbed the stairs to the second floor and closed the door to a room that would have once been the master bedroom.

The furniture was gone. The harsh smell of mold and mildew hung in the air as you eased your numb body into a sitting position against the wall. Facing the door.

You would at least meet them face first if your pursuors stumbled over this place like you did. You didn't have a weapon…and you barely had the strength to keep your eyes open… yeah… whoever came through that door would have the easiest kill of their life for sure…

You didn't dare let your eyes close. But listened for the approaching footsteps. Even with the wind and soft patter of rain on the ruined roof, you heard them approaching.

You picked up on five distinct voices. Chattering to someone on a radio.

"Found a building…they might have taken shelter…"

"Remember, this fucker is dangerous. Don't let them get close. We don't know if they're armed."

You at least had that in your favor.

The creaking wood of the front porch announced their arrival. Their entry was silent. You dragged yourself to your feet, wincing when the floor groaned underneath you…fuck…

That was it.

The soft press of boots approached your door. The aduible click of a gun being cocked had your heart racing. You raised your hands and inched closer to the door. If you could just grab one of them…. Maybe you had a chance...

Something bounced on the floor-boards. Rolling towards your door.

"Grenade!" A soldier screamed and suddenly the hallway beyond your sanctuary exploded. You jumped away from the wall as cracks formed through the plaster and pieces of metal splintered through the wood.

Gunfire rattled the house. Bodies hit the ground and within seconds of chaos erupting, it ended. Silence, swallowed by light pattering of rain, followed.

Three heart-beats later, a quiet, near inaudble voice called your name and you nearly sank back to the ground again.

"Konig, I'm alive."

The door swung open immedately and a titan of a man rushed into the room. He was drenched in water. His cowl clung to his face like a second skin, framing a gaze that was so full of rage you bristled beneath it's heat.

You swayed, the last of your energy slipped through your grasp as you forced your cracked lips to smile. "Now how did you get from-"

"You've been gone for a week." Was his response, crossing the room in two long strides to steady you. The fire in his eyes sputtered out when you grunted at his touch. His fingers, as gentle as a man his size could, could not land without touching some bruised part of you.

His breathing quickened, this close you could hear his teeth grinding together. "How bad?"

It was somewhat charming to hear his usually calm demeanor sharpen at the edges. The way his eyes bounced between injury to blood stain to bruise, you could tell the state of you was adding fuel to an already mountainous pyre.

"I think I'm about to pass out." You admitted. Knowing better than to lie to him. Somehow, he just knew when you were trying to hide something. "The boys-"

"Already evac'ed out." Konig grunted and you allowed him to move up beside you. "They had to be wrestled onto the heli. Wanted to join the search to look for you."

Stooping down, Konig uttered a soft apology before sweeping your legs out from under you. You barely had time to resist! The sudden dip and lift had your ribs grinding together and you slammed your lips closed to stop yourself from screaming.

Gritting your teeth, you gave into the mortifying situation. "If you utter a single syllable about this to anyone…"

There was no chuckle or twinkling reply in his eyes. His hands held you as if you were made of glass; his fingers splayed carefully across your sides and taking each step as if you'd shatter from the tiniest jostle.

You concentrated on staying awake. Breathing in as much as your ribs would allow to keep your sight from dipping into darkness.

"Last I heard..you were..across the ocean.." Each word hurt, making you gasp as Konig carried you down the stairs and into the room that could have been the lounge-room once.

Using the tip of his boot, he dragged a wooden box away from the wall and placed you down ontop of it.

"A little bird told me you went MIA during a field test with your new team." Konig explained. He knelt down beside you, resting one knee on the ground to balance himself as he ruffled through his many pockets.

The vest had numerous knives and ammuntions. His belt held a few holsters but he clicked open a small pouch by his hip, producing a roll of clean bandages.

You would never admit it, but the way Konig seemed to freeze as he checked each injury, his gloved fingers ghosting over welts and open cuts; it was endearing…in a morbid sort of way.

"They wanted me alive." You explained, lifting the left side of you ruined shirt to display a slash that was swollen and angry. "Wanted my name for some reason. That's all they kept asking."

Konig was no medic but at least his touch was gentle. He moved slowly, letting you lean against his broad shoulder as he wrapped what he could.

You had to keep talking or unconsciousness was going to take you. "How'd you find me?"

"Followed the bodies." He replied. His voice felt like thunder through your skin. "Then when they ran out, I made my own path. Those upstairs were the last ones."

"How badly hurt were the boys?" You asked.

"Don't know. I didn't stick around long enough to ask." He admitted. You rested your cheek against his shirt. He smelled like rain and old clothes. "They said you ran east. So I went east."

His fingers brushed against your side and you hissed, squeezing your eyes shut against the flash of white hot pain.

Konig's apology whispered through his cowl.

When he was done, you tried to move away to let him stand but Konig settled an arm around your shoulders. Tenderly forcing you to rest against him.

"Don't need you falling to the floor." He said. But there was no humor behind his tone, just ice.

You mumbled something, but even to you it was incoherent. Licking your lips, you forced your next words to be heard.

"Wake me if there's trouble."

The massive form of muscle shifted beneath you as your eyes finally closed. And you felt his cowl brush against the side of your head as he sighed against your shoulder.

As long as Merlin had been alive, he’d never seen this pyre lit.

He would’ve just gotten himself out of this situation with his ‘gifts’ if it weren’t for his poor mother.

The villagers would never let her live in peace if he magically disappeared.

No, this was the only way she could go on living, even with a broken heart.

He didn’t fight. He didn’t really hear much of what they spit at him. But he could hear his mother wailing at him, to save himself, to do whatever he must do.

He’d resigned himself to an early death.

Tom, the town representative, started spewing some righteous words at him. New Religion words that didn’t quite make sense to him, but that’s to be expected. He is, himself, a creature of the old religion, if prophecy is to be trusted.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, serpent?”

Merlin opened his mouth to tell his mother that he loved her, but he stopped short.

In the distance, he could hear a sound.

The beating of hooves on hard, cold dirt.

Visitors were approaching.

It must be fate, he thinks.

As the horses drew closer, the villagers slowly turned their attentions away from him.

Merlin simply hung his head, letting the Earth he loved so dearly decide which way his life would swing.

“What is the meaning of this?”

A calm, steady voice came from behind him. Deep and concerned. Merlin wished he could see the man.

“My lord,” Tom bowed, as well as he could, which was strange.

Upon realization, Merlin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, were these visitors noble? They never had nobility stay long enough to make comments on anything, only ever just passing through.

“I asked you a question.” The voice said again, with all the authority of someone who’s used to using it.

“This man is a sorcerer, sire. We were just-“

“What has he done?”

“Sire?”

“What has this man done to call for these extreme measures?” When no one answered him immediately, he rephrased.

“Surely there must’ve been a crime committed?” As if it’s a question.

Merlin’s mother pulled herself out of shock and brought herself forth.

“He did nothing, sire.” She spoke firm and unmoving. She must’ve seen hope in this man that Merlin had yet to lay eyes on. “He’s only ever used it for healing wounds and helping our gardens in the winter. Please have mercy on him, my lord. He is my only son.” Tears started falling as her voice broke. She finally met Merlin’s eyes again and he smiled at her, weakly.

“So this man-“

“Sorcerer.” Corrected Tom. What a dick.

“This man, did nothing but heal you and help you survive and this is how you repay him?”

Again no answer.

The man seemed to gesture at Tom, walking towards the town elder, and bringing him finally into Merlin’s line of sight.

The doomed boy nearly gasped.

Silver and red bled together in the sun, armor and finery melded like roses in white sand.

The man-the lord…the knight? He had golden blonde hair, that shone like it’s own light.

Blue eyes made even more obvious and striking surrounded by unblemished, sun-kissed skin.

“You seem to be leading the horde. Tell me why?” No, answer. “Cut him down.” A command. The stranger’s face was a hard, blank line.

Funny how, even then, he didn’t feel like a stranger. But Merlin was in no state to remember it.

“My lord, I do not think that would be wise. Your father was the one to wage war on magic-“

“I am not my father. Cut him down.”

Merlin swallowed. Uther Pendragon was the only person in his mind that waged the war on magic, that began the purge. Which means this man could only be his son, Prince Arthur.

What a prince he was.

Well, King, now.

No wonder every person in the vicinity practically dropped to their knees upon his arrival. They’d all heard stories of ‘The Just King’ that now reigned over Camelot. Giving whatever he could to his citizens that needed it most, never turning anyone away who seeks shelter. Merlin had heard the same as everyone else. Seeing the King in person now, he was in awe.

“I will not endanger the lives of all who live here.” Tom turns back to Merlin with the lit torch.

Merlin held his breath, but the second Tom turned away from him, the King pulled his sword. It made the loveliest sound as it left the sheath.

The sound of salvation.

Tom had the tip of a majestic blade directed right at his throat, as the King spoke again.

“I said, cut him down.”

The look on the King’s face was one that could kill.

Merlin wondered momentarily why he cared so much.

Finally someone from the crowd stepped forward with a knife and began to cut away Merlin’s ties.

Hunith leapt forward and engulfed her son in a hug, while also somewhat holding his body upright.

He did not want to let go, considering he thought he would never get to hug his mother again. But the entire village was watching them.

As was-

“What is your name?”

It was phrased as a question but spoken like a command. Merlin knew it was directed at him without opening his eyes.

He did, reluctantly, release his mother and turn to the golden King, facing deep blue eyes head on. Never cowering.

“Merlin.”

The King must’ve seen something in him. Something every other person was blind to or chose to ignore, simply because he was a peasant. He took a step closer and Merlin could hear the tiny tink of metal pieces on his shining armor, as he did so.

“Well, Merlin.” He said, as if trying it out for himself. “Seeing as I’ve just given you your life, I’d like to ask a favor.”

Merlin’s curiosity was peaked, to say the least. King’s didn’t ask favors, they took whatever they wanted.

King Arthur did not wait for a reply to continue.

“I’m in need of assistance. And I could use someone with a gift like yours, specifically.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes in minuscule doubt. Doubt of intentions, doubt of his safety.

The King somehow knowing his exact thoughts said

“Of course you would be permitted to come back when you are needed. And when I have accomplished my goal, if you wish, you can leave. I will not keep anyone against their will. I am simply offering.” A small smile played on his mouth. Flush pink lips. He also held up his hands as if to say ‘I will not harm you’.

Merlin’s gut told him to follow this man.

Terrifyingly, his intuition told him to follow this man, practically a stranger, anywhere. Everywhere.

Merlin felt a pull he’s never felt before. In the moment, he assumed it was immense gratitude for saving his life.

Merlin turned to meet his mothers eyes, he already knew what she was going to tell him.

“I think it will be good for you. To get out for a while.” She smiles softly.

“Will you be alright?” He whispered, glancing at the crowd still gathered around an unlit pyre.

“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed him in a bear hug, like she always did. “And if they boot me out, I’ll come find you.”

Merlin sighed into her shoulder.

“Alright.”

When Merlin turned back, the King had turned his eyes to the ground, giving mother and son a moment of privacy.

Merlin was starting to warm to him already.

“Can I pack first?”

King Arthur met his gaze then, doing that half smile thing, again.

“I suppose.” He nodded. “But don’t dawdle we need to move if we want to make it back before sundown.”

“Yes, sire.” The title which usually held reverence and respect, was laced with sarcasm. He didn’t seem to think twice, as he strode away towards their hut to gather his things.

If Merlin had looked back, he would’ve found a fully beaming King looking after him and about six knights with faces of complete shock.

Whether he would actually be able to accomplish his goal or even leave this place alive, Adam wasn’t so sure of the outcome. Though he didn’t allow such concerns to bother him right now, not when it might decrease his chances of winning even by a miniscule amount. All that mattered was that he appeared confident – strong – someone not to be underestimated, someone who came to this god forsaken place to strike down a beast. Did it matter that his heart rammed against his ribs? Or the fact that he could feel something climb up the back of his throat? What about the increasing sweat gathering in his palms? It could loosen his grip on his sword, couldn’t it? Then he– No. Adam shook his worries away and instead let that familiar anger flare up from within into confident warnings and threats that swiftly travelled up the staircase and out into a doorway where the shadow of a figure moved slightly. It seemed to have heard him. Good. He was the hunter here. 

His steps only grew louder with confidence as the last few sets of steps presented themselves upon him and the face of a man, no, a monster, slowly came into his view. Hair like the pale rays of the morning framed a face with a skin of porcelain and eyes of sapphire, stopping delicately just above its shoulders. If any other person was in Adam’s place, they might mistake the monster for an angel and instead try to befriend the beast. That was, unfortunately, why so many have fallen to such a monster. Using their seemingly delicate, pretty features and promises of grandeur to charm their way into the people’s hearts minutes before they would tear that very same organ out of their mortal bodies. In his 26 years of life and many many years of expertly hunting beasts and monsters, nothing was deadlier than the vile creature Adam was marching his way towards. Nothing was worse than a filthy, blood sucking Vampire.

“You fucking leech! You think you can just raze a town into nothing, spilling blood everywhere and be free to enjoy the spoils of your destruction in the comfort of your home?” shouted Adam as the face of the vampire fully came into view. His blood boiled with anger as he recounted the scenery he arrived at nigh a fortnight ago. Ashes swirling along with the wind as dark, dried blood stained the ground that cradled the mangled bodies of the former residents of the small village. From the elderly to those barely able to walk, none was spared from the vampire’s rampage. Adam was by no means an amateur – in his field of area, victims and their corpses were a normal occurrence. This wouldn’t even be the first vampire he would slay, many others had burned to his sword before (and this one would too). But when he heard tales of a beautifully pale, golden haired man (the people’s words not his) dressed in ornate apparel clearly not belonging in a small secluded village apparently wandering amongst its residents at night, Adam knew exactly who the people were talking about. 

Unfortunately, it seemed that Adam had arrived too late to save the villagers from the monster. A dull kind of sadness sat on his chest for but a brief moment before it returned back to a flaming fury. Tonight, not only was he going to avenge those poor victims from the village, but also its past victims ranging from centuries ago. Tonight, he was going to ensure that one of the pillars of vampire society would tumble and burn to ash. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Adam spotted a boot and… was that a leg? It looked a little crumpled and unnaturally flat. Perhaps another unfortunate victim the leech had gotten hold of while he tracked its whereabouts. His grip on his weapon only tightened with burning determination as his steps increased in pace and his arms positioned themselves to a strike. 

“Michael! Tonight it will be your blood that will be spilled inst–!! 

Adam was by no means a clumsy man. Hot headed? Without a doubt. Reckless? Perhaps, but he usually had some idea of what to do. Granted, he wasn’t the most graceful man on earth, but he was swift on his toes and the slashes of his sword would cut through the air. So why now, of all time, did his feet decide to not cooperate and betray him? And in front of humanity’s mortal enemy? 

Needless to say, his legs did manage to bring him towards the False Sun itself, though perhaps a little too closely for Adam’s liking as his face felt against the silken fabric of what possibly could be Michael’s waistcoat. As he moved his cheek an inch trying to do God knows what, Adam felt the rounded shape of a button. He had, without a doubt, fallen face first towards the vampire. 

“I must admit I was prepared for a fight, the usual one…” A cool, silky voice sounded from just above his head, seemingly not too bothered by having a large man collapse on top of him. “But this kind of ‘fighting’...” a hum, then the vampire continued, “I profess I’m not too opposed to the idea–”

If imploding from shame was possible, Adam would have collapsed onto dust by now. Alas, he was only human nor had he bothered to learn of such magicks from his peers. His only option? To do what he had always been good at. Cut the parasite into unrecognisable pieces. Within a split of a second, the shame that enveloped him had completely drained away and his sword swung through the air, the blade heading swiftly towards the vampire’s neck.

“–if it means resolving things in a peaceful manner.” Michael held a tight grip on his wrist, the sliver blade inches away from his neck seemingly non-existent. With a slight, painful twist to his wrist, the blade fell pitifully away from his grip, its metallic clatter a deafening noise in the room. 

There was a tension in his body, frozen by panic, shock, and possibly even fear. Here he was still as a mouse, unsure of his next move for he could die in the next second should Michael deem it so. Face down, his head still leaning against the night creature, for he could not bear to look the thing in the eyes right now, something shimmery caught his attention. How could he forget? Eve always insisted he carry the cross with him, wear it around his neck to appease possible religious fanatics, assure them that he worked with the church not against them. The cross, as effective as it was towards the religious folk, had no real effect against the supernatural except perhaps to confuse them for a second as to why a hunter would bother to depend on them in the first place. This cross, however, was in fact a small silver dagger. Would it kill the monster before him? Adam wished so, but unfortunately the most it could do was possibly to have the vampire let go of him. That would be enough. No, it had to be enough, otherwise… 

With a sharp inhale, Adam unsheathed the small dagger and attempted to stab the vampire in front of him…only to feel something cold grasp onto his left hand. The tip of the blade disappeared into the waistcoat, though from the lack of reaction from Michael, it seemed to not have pierced into his flesh. 

“Are you fucking with me?” Adam hissed between his teeth. How was it that Michael seemed to be able to read his next moves? Without much of a choice left, Adam struggled and thrashed against the vampire’s grip, his left hand still trying its best to pierce beyond the fabric of Michael’s attire. “Let go of me, asshole! Or I swear you’ll die a hundred times worse than all of your victims combined and then some more!”

Michael merely quirked a brow at Adam’s display, unfazed by the barrage of curses and promises of death hurled towards him. Slowly, he loosened his grip on the human, enough to prevent the thrashing man from possibly twisting his wrists but still having Adam tied to him. 

“First you throw yourself at me, then soon after promises of death,” Michael idly noted, though Adam swore he could see the faintest smirk at the corner of the vampire’s lips. “I think you might’ve misunderstood vampires um..?”

“Garth,” he answered with a scowl, though a slight red was beginning to spread from his cheeks. He was sure the bastard was playing with him. “And I did not throw myself at you! I– I merely,” he gulped before quietly admitting as he looked down and away from Michael’s stupidly pretty face, “I merely tripped.”

However, a soft, withheld snort caused Adam to snap his attention back to the vampire in front of him, as red fully encased his face up to his ears, from shame or anger, he wasn’t sure anymore. All he was sure of was that Michael was not taking him seriously at all. In fact, it seemed that the vampire was mocking him! The angelic looking blood sucker from hell.

Noticing the human’s exasperated expression before him, Michael reigned in his amusement, his lips returning to its original flat shape. A smile remind within his thoughts however. “How adorable.”

“Ah, from the House of Garth. Apologies, I didn’t mean to offend,” Michael placed a hand on his chest, where his heart should be, allowing Adam’s left hand to finally be free. 

Though, for all his wit and aptitude for killing creatures of all kinds, Adam hadn’t exactly mastered the skill of diplomacy and delicacy, not that he ever tried especially now, when he faced one of the most vile creatures of the night. 

“Your face is offensive,” hissed Adam at Michael’s show of sincerity. If Adam was crude and blunt, then vampires were his complete opposite. The leeches were masters of speechcraft and deceit. The bastard in front of him didn’t even have a beating heart! 

Michael moved his free hand from his chest to his face, his long, slender fingers carefully gliding over his perfectly smooth cheeks before it began tracing his sharp jawline towards the end of his pointed cheek where perfectly kissable lips were just above it. Adam tore his gaze from the vampire and instead focused a glare at a wall away from the charming face before him. 

“Don’t fall for their charms Adam!” he reminded himself. That was it. Definitely. Michael was, without a doubt, using his vampire magic to get Adam to lower his guard. There was no way he was actually eyeing the leech. It was a leech! A blood sucking vampire! Adam mentally slapped himself as he steeled himself to keep glaring at the wall. 

“Offensive?” Michael pondered aloud before moving closer to the human ensuring he was in view at the very least, “I’ve heard nothing but compliments from your kind, but I suppose my appearance does not match your palate?” 

The vampire had the audacity to come closer to Adam and even do a little head tilt with his bright blue eyes glimmering like precious jewels even in the dimness of the room they were in. How did he manage that? To always look so perfect no matter the angle; not that Adam thought Michael actually looked good. No way. It was all a façade anyway. Sooner or later all that sweet charm would fade into monstrous hunger. He did, however, find it a little odd how he was still alive and ‘conversing’ with Michael. Was he really that much fun to play with? Usually vampires weren’t fans of his ‘colourful’ personality, as many others have said before, and would’ve simply broken his bones already or at least attempted to kill him already. Michael, however, seemed to enjoy it.

“Of course not,” Adam scoffed at the vampire. “I mean, look at you. You’re…” he eyed Michael up and down, from the flowing golden that was his hair, down his smooth pale neck, his lean, strong body up to his long, slender fingers. The vampire was pretty? No, he couldn’t say that. Beautiful? Couldn’t say that either. Alluring? Perhaps, but there was no way he was going to admit that aloud. “...you’re tiny. Right! Too slim, like a twig! Not how a real man should be.”

“Oh?” Michael placed his fingers on the underside of Adam’s chin, caressing the skin there before pulling him even closer towards him. “And how should a man look, might I ask?”

Being this close to Michael, Adam could now truly see how spotless the vampire’s face was, completely void of any imperfections as if every feature had been delicately and purposely placed there. He could feel Michael’s breath cool and pleasant against his skin like a welcomed reprieve from a suffocating heat. An instinctive gulp went down his dry throat, and for a few precious seconds, Adam was truly speechless. 

“Hmm? Won’t you enlighten me, hunter?”

“I– I, well,” stammered Adam as a slight shiver travelled up his spine. As much as he wanted to pull away, Michael’s fingers, and perhaps something else, stilled him on the spot. He cleared his throat, forcing his own green eyes to meet the vampire’s own icy blues. “Well, somewhat like me! Tall and big and menacing! Not delicate looking like you.”

“You say I look delicate?”

“It’s not a compliment.”

“You are not much taller than me,” Michael noted as he eyed Adam up and down, taking every bit of detail about the human.

“You’re still shorter, and skinnier. It’s not a good look,” Adam insisted as tried to turn away and hide away from the vampire’s obvious gazes. “Quite hideous really.”

“Truly?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Well then.”

All of a sudden Adam felt himself stumble backwards as his other hand was finally released from the vampire’s; he hadn’t even realised he had begun using the other’s hold on him to remain standing. Then, a shadow slowly began to climb atop of him, starting from his shoulders up to face until it covered him and went past beyond his height. With the use of dark, vampire magic, the creature in front of him shifted and transformed from frail, pretty noble to someone who was at least a head taller than him, shoulders broad and wide, wavy golden locks tied behind in a low ponytail. Without a doubt, it was still the same vampire, the same perfectly pale skin, the same precious bejewelled eyes, the same silken gold hair – just bigger and taller, and exactly how Adam thought in his mind a ‘manlier’ version of the vampire would look like. Not that the previous appearance was unpleasant. Wait. Adam gave pause to his thoughts. Michael looked exactly how he imagined him in his head… Did..?

“Did you fucking read my mind?” Adam covered his head protectively with both hands despite knowing the futility of such an action. A fluster began to spread once more across his face up to his ears, his heart beating against his ribs just like at the beginning when he climbed those stairs, but also a little different. 

“Have I become more pleasing now?” asked Michael with a sweet smile upon his lips as he stepped closer towards Adam like a predator closing in on its prey, his shadow towering over the human, making Adam feel, for once, quite small despite his tall stature of 6 '1".

“You–!” He quickly picked up his silver sword off the ground, pointing the sharp and deadly end towards the vampire.

Michael stopped before the blade could actually pierce through his waistcoat, though it seemed they had arrived at an impasse. “Why are you hesitating?” he asked. 

Why was he hesitating? At this point, with all the conflicting thoughts clashing within his head, Adam wasn’t so sure anymore. He could easily just push his sword through the fabric and into the flesh, ending the vampire here and there – that was what he had spent nearly two weeks tracking Michael for. But despite all his training, despite all his rational thoughts screaming at him to just be done with all this, his grip on his sword faltered, not completely lax, but also lacking the intent he had earlier. This vampire was…odd. An absolute lunatic. But he hadn’t killed Adam when he easily could’ve earlier and still wasn’t attempting to harm him even now. 

“Either push your sword through or drop it.”

The fight just wasn’t there. There was no point in attacking someone who wasn’t willing to fight. Adam tried to explain to himself the reasons for his own bizarre behaviour, at least he actively was until he caught a glimpse of a body not too far behind Michael. 

“I don’t think your victim over there would be too pleased if I give up now,” he said, tightening his hold onto the hilt once more. 

“Oh, him?” Michael moved to the side, hands presenting the mangled corpse behind him to Adam. “A gift for you.”

Then it hit Adam like a giant troll punching him through a wall. For a moment he thought he finally found a different vampire, that despite his lunacy, Michael might’ve been unique from his kind, that perhaps there was misunderstanding. Turned out, he was just better at hiding his tendencies, perks of being an ancient vampire he supposed. Of course, they all turn to their true base selves in the end, Adam should’ve seen it coming. 

“I heard you were tracking him down, so I thought I could make things a little easier for you.” Michael moved over towards the corpse, a displeased look painted upon his face. 

“Wait, what?” 

“Of course, I also didn’t agree with what he did to those villagers,” Michael recalled the tragedy that befell the villagers, his lips turning downwards into a frown, a dark shadow cast on his face as he stomped unto what should’ve the head. “Some of those people were rather affable towards me.”

“W-wait a second!” Adam moved towards Michael and nearer to the corpse on the ground. Now that he really paid closer attention to the corpse, he noted the distinct lack of red blood that was supposed to have pooled around the body. Instead, there was soot and ash spread around a dessicated figure beneath a bunch of torn garments. This was not the corpse of a human. “You mean to tell me that he was the one that attacked the village? Not you?”

For once something else other than cool amusement or unreadable indifference formed itself onto Michael’s face. 

Seemingly taken aback by Adam’s question, Michael turned his attention back towards the human, a sad disappointment plastered all over his face, the shimmer in his blue eyes looking almost like crystalline tears. Adam almost wanted to reach over and give the vampire a reassuring pat, but held back instead. It would’ve been strange from his end. Mad even, for a hunter to even think about apologising to a vampire.

“No, it wasn’t me,” Michael answered Adam, dejection nigh palpable from his voice alone. “I would never attack unprovoked and never for fun. It’s not within my nature.”

Before he knew it, a scoff escaped from Adam, “Not within your nature, really?”

“I tell the truth.”

“You’re a vampire,” Adam hissed at Michael. “Perhaps not the worst of your kind, but a vampire regardless.”

“I am my own person, Adam. I’m not shackled to my birth despite how you and your fellows may think so.”

“How do you–?”

“I am knowledgeable in many things, Adam,” Michael answered his question for him as he made his way back towards the human, his shadow looming over once more. “Of course, you are too. The difference is, I know my proclivities quite well. My needs and wants.” 

The vampire leaned down towards Adam, one hand sliding its way up the human’s shoulder, fingers briefly tracing his collar bone before resting his hand lightly against the nape. Michael whispered, fangs so close to Adam’s neck and yet the hunter attempted no escape, “Are you aware of yours?”

Adam could almost feel himself wanting to bare his neck, giving the vampire all the access he needed for a drink. He wondered how it would feel like. Would it be an unbearable pain? Maybe something on the pleasurable side? Perhaps a mixture of both sensations? 

“A hunter likes to chase, no?” 

Too close. Michael was too close and Adam didn’t like it. “Who would chase after you?!” Adam snapped back, finally having broken free from his brief trance, as he pulled himself away from the vampire using his silver sword to further increase the space between them. He desperately needed the space away from the vampire, to be able to breathe, to think rationally. He was slowly getting swayed by Michael’s words, and that was dangerous. 

This time Michael made no attempt to bridge the distance between him and Adam, it seemed he had pushed the human enough for today, though he allowed himself a victorious smile at Adam’s response. “Who said anything about chasing me?”

Before Adam could defend himself from his mishap, Michael began heading towards the door, stopping just before the stairwell to turn back at Adam one more time. 

“In half a fortnight, at midnight, in this very same place,” Michael informed the hunter, that same victorious smile from earlier still on his lips. “If you would like to continue your hunt for me.”

Then, in a flash the figure before Adam vanished into a mist swirling down the dark stairwell.

Adam wished he had thrown his sword towards the bastard leech’s face then, only he had already been drained of energy for the night, and perhaps the following night too. Others have warned him about the Auruses before, many others have told him about their dangerous encounters with that ancient vampire family. He had even read and studied several journals and books about that hellish family and their unending capacity for cruelty. He was quite sure, and Michael’s very presence only proved him correct, that Michael was in fact the Michael from the Auruses, direct son of the clan leader. And yet here was Adam, dumbly standing in an empty room, seriously contemplating returning to the place as per the invitation of an Aurus. Honestly, even he wondered if there was something wrong with him sometimes.