As Blake slammed the gang leader to the ground, the crack of the man's nose breaking echoed through the club, and blood spurted from the wound, staining the floor crimson. The other men in the club reacted swiftly, drawing their guns and leveling them at Blake with trembling hands.
Ignoring the imminent threat, Blake smirked at the gang members, his confidence unwavering despite the odds stacked against him. "You lot aren't so bright, are you?" he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain.
In the blink of an eye, Blake's eyes flashed a fiery red, a menacing glow that sent shivers down the spines of the gang members. Tears of blood welled up in his eyes, but they never fell, defying the laws of gravity as they hung suspended in midair.
Charlie exchanged a bewildered glance with his friend, their fear palpable as they struggled to comprehend the supernatural force standing before them. "What in the hell is this guy?" Charlie muttered under his breath, his voice trembling with disbelief.
Before anyone could react, the club erupted into chaos as the gang members opened fire, unleashing a barrage of bullets in Blake's direction. The air was filled with the deafening roar of gunfire as bullets tore through the air, aimed at the seemingly invincible intruder.
As the barrage of bullets continued to rain down on Blake, he remained steadfast, his stoic demeanor belying the chaos unfolding around him. Unbeknownst to his assailants, Blake was utilizing his newfound blood manipulation abilities to deflect and neutralize their attacks.
With practiced precision, he subtly twiddled his fingers behind his back, exerting his control over the crimson liquid flowing from the gang leader's broken nose. Blake had discovered the extent of his blood powers through trial and error, realizing he could also shape it to his will.
Although he had limited control, he had learnt a thing or two during the travel back from the island and was poised to put it into combat situation.
As the blood flowed towards him, weaving through the air like a sinister ribbon, Blake paid no heed to the bullets that struck his transformed body. His vampiric form rendered him impervious to their impact, each shot merely registering as a minor annoyance.
With a calm focus, Blake gathered the blood, forming it into tendrils that writhed and danced with an otherworldly grace. The gang members, their guns still trained on Blake, faltered as they witnessed the surreal spectacle unfolding before them.
"What the hell is happening?" one of them muttered, his voice trembling with disbelief.
Blake recalled the blood disc to his side and as Blake moved through the carnage, the blood disk hovered at his side like a loyal companion, its crimson glow casting eerie shadows across the room. Despite the chaos and destruction surrounding him, he felt strangely at peace, almost as if he had finally found his place in the world.
The sight of blood no longer repulsed him; instead, it drew him in with an almost hypnotic allure. It felt familiar, comforting even, like returning to a long-lost home.
Amidst the mangled bodies and severed limbs, Blake's keen senses picked up the faint sound of whimpering. With a sense of purpose, he followed the sound until he came upon a figure lying on the ground, coughing and writhing in pain.
Kneeling down beside the wounded man, Blake studied him with a mixture of curiosity and detachment. The man's eyes widened in terror as he saw Blake looming over him, the blood disk pulsating with malevolent energy at his side.
As Blake knelt beside the wounded man, his eyes locked on the bloodied figure writhing in pain. The man's attempts to escape were futile, his legs sliced through by Blake's blood tendrils, rendering him immobile.
"You're a devil," the man spat, his voice trembling with fear and anger. "What do you want from me?"
Blake's lips curled into a smirk as he regarded the man with amusement. "No need for the attitude," he replied casually. "I'm just a little hungry, and your blood smells particularly enticing."
The man recoiled in horror, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You're some kind of demon," he whispered, his voice barely above a terrified whisper. "Why would I let you feed on me?"
Blake chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down the man's spine. "I admire your bravado," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But bravery isn't exactly the best moral attribute right now."
With a sinister grin, Blake leaned in closer to the man, his eyes gleaming with hunger. "I could simply take your blood," he whispered, his voice low and menacing. "But that would be like a violation,"
The man scoffed, his voice trembling with fear and defiance. "Are you insane?" he demanded, his gaze darting around the room at the lifeless bodies strewn about. "Look around you! What does it matter what you do now? You've already killed so many!"
Blake scratched his head thoughtfully, considering the man's words. "You have a point," he admitted, his grin widening into a malicious smile. "But that doesn't change the fact that I'm hungry."