Vincent and the Gods - Part VII

I found myself lying in bed trying to sort out the events of the previous hours at the village, unable to sleep. The Norse trickster to my left was out cold, not making a sound - his brother in the other room was snoring loudly, making me wonder how he could ignore the noise. I gently sat up, holding up Loki's arm to test a theory. My hold loosened, the appendage dropping to the bedding like a stone in a river.

Sighing, I pulled myself out of bed satisfied with my result, and darted out of the room silently with the door creaking closed. I fished around the room for my jacket and boots - I needed to clear my head, so I did what I always do: took a nightly walk in the cold air.

Dressed in both pieces of winter wear, I attached my sword to my belt and stepped outside. Locking the back door, I trudged through the knee-deep snow down towards the village but kept a distance from the entrance, fearing the worst reaction of the people due to earlier.

The only downside of going out at night was attracting the company of shady individuals.

Mainly those who I hunted and those who hunted me.

For whatever reason the people lived in fear of not only vampires, but other creatures of the night. Werewolves apparently frequented the higher parts of the region, from the distinguished nobles to the unruly savage members of their clans. I never had problems with the nobles - I was friends with the higher class nobles, since they found ways to deal with their curse. The savage ones, on the other hand, hunted me and other unfortunate victims who didn't know better and chose to be out at night where the creatures attacked without warning.

Combining both of those creatures in the villagers' collective terror meant that I had sometimes had to act double-time: if the vampires were acting up I killed them on the spot, but werewolves were another story and had to be detained before executed. There was too much issue with the various clans, especially if the savage werewolf was part of a noble clan - that involved bringing the one responsible to justice by returning them to their respective group

Those moments were more trouble than they were worth.

Unfortunately, my night walk was interrupted by one of those savage ones preying on a young villager. It took notice of my movement and bolted towards me, ignoring its original target with both clawed paws outstretched. I had seconds to draw my blade before it pounced on me. I rolled out of its reach, sinking into the snow with my sword slicing into furry flesh.

A loud howl of pain erupted from its throat as it rolled over me. It dropped to the ground, the snow being stained with blood from the open wound on its chest. Before it could move, I bolted up from my spot and rammed my blade into its throat and a second time into its heart. A small sliver snapped off of my sword, embedding itself into the creature and killing it into an instant.

I grimaced, feeling a sudden sharp warm pain in my side. I looked down, eyeing a deep slice in my clothing with a dark color staining the leather. I bit my tongue, not about to go into shock from the mark the decreased animal left on my body.

I leaned against one knee, watching the now dead werewolf shift back into its original form. The fur melted away, revealing a dirty young man laying in the snow, a dark pool of blood forming underneath his form and bleeding into the ground beneath him. Another ravager, wild and rabid. None that needed to be returned.

The scent of his blood slowly reached my nostrils, a shudder shooting up my spine and down my arms as I forced myself up. I shook my head, a nauseous feeling swimming around my forehead and temples, stripping my jacket off. The feeling lifted from me almost immediately just to be replaced with a second copper taste.

I glanced down at the gash in my damp shirt, the skin underneath the cloth fully healed. The clothing had absorbed blood from my non-existent wound, which meant I wouldn't need to worry about leaving any sort of trail. But it wasn't entirely a good thing. Any loss of blood, be it my own or someone else's, could potentially cause a delayed trigger in my system. The need for the one thing I despised, even though it helped me.

I groaned, feeling a small headache come on as I started my trek back home. I inhaled deeply, letting the cold winter air fill my lungs and ease my worry of losing it again as I trudged through the snow. My sword dragged in the powder, leaving a thin line behind my feet in the faint shade of crimson and white.

I wasn't happy about losing my jacket, nor did I enjoy losing a piece of clothing to werewolf blood. Having clothing stained with blood of one of those creatures made it easier for their pack to trace the one responsible for killing on of their members. I wasn't about to be targeted by a wild pack of werewolves - it's bad enough I'm already on a death list for the vampires.

The trek back home took longer than it took to get out of the house, all thanks to a cold breeze picking up around me and being cornered by the vampires who had attacked the villagers earlier. I was jumped by one of the oldest members of their coven, Caleas Vance. I hated the son of a bitch - he was a pompous dick destined to be the next prince in line for the coven's royalty. He kept the same airs of a spoiled brat who had been handed him everything on a silver plate from birth, except for the undead and bloodlust part.

Caleas bolted out of the covered foliage, fangs bared and claws out. I barely avoided his reach - his leap shoved me face-first into the snow, my sword knocked underneath me and out of reach. I heard the silver-haired bastard yelp in surprise as I grabbed his shoulder and violently slammed him into a nearby tree trunk. He recovered quickly, kicking the tree in half and pounced at me. I met him face-to-face, both hands crushing his wrists with my fangs bared in retaliation, as the snow in the broken trunk dropped on us like heavy rain. I found myself wrestling underneath him in the snow, wood chips sprinkling around us as the vampire lord rammed a metal toed-boot into my chest. I grimaced with a snarl, feeling my sword against my spine as he shoved the same boot into my throat to pin me down.

"So, you're the one responsible for those deaths, hmm?" He knelt to one knee, pressing it firmly into my healed side. I snarled, trying to break the silver-haired vampire's hold on my throat.

"All of my brethren, dead in one fell swoop, all thanks to you and your pathetic attempts of saving those wretched humans..."

I felt blood coming up my throat, a small spasm of pain making me cough up the liquid in response.

"H-H-Hardly..." I kicked up one of my feet, the sole of the shoe hitting Caleas in the back of the exposed knee and shoving him to the ground. My vision blurred as I bolted up, the blade in my hands and slicing at the vampire's exposed neck.