"No." Ezra whispered.
He could feel Olivia's low vitality like a sixth sense within his heart. "You fucker!" He snarled as he turned to Malachi.
Malachi dematerialized the plain sword and dashed towards Ezra with all the fury of a raging storm. Ezra crouched and braced himself for the inevitable collision. He'd learned from the earlier blow.
Malachi was in front of him when-
Crack!
A shape from his peripheral vision collided with Malachi with a sharp crack, sending the two tumbling away from Ezra.
Malachi and X rolled on the floor, grappling and fighting for the upper hand. By the time they separated and rose to their feet, they both sported new wounds.
Blood was on X's shirtless torso. His wife beater had been ripped to shreds while Malachi's trench coat had suffered a few rips stained with blood.
"Aaaahhhhh!" A female yell filled the air as Gen joined the fight. Malachi's remaining two minions in similar trench coats had materialized a giant dark furred wolf each and she was holding them back.
She wielded a large piece of glass fashioned in the shape of an axe, cutting flesh like a particularly nasty surgeon.
Everyone can survive on their own for a bit.
Ezra's gaze shifted to the headless Olivia whose lifeblood pooled slowly around her. He rushed to her in haste. She can't be dead! Vampires can't die from a simple beheading, can they?
He got to her body and knelt. The skin around her neck bubbled like it wanted to heal but the red chains around her neck glowed an ominous red, preventing them from rising.
Those damned chains!
He dropped the page in his hands and picked up her head. He held it to her neck in hopes of the flesh knitting together. Her skin bubbled again, but was still held back by the glowing chains.
Shit! Shit! Ezra cast his gaze around in the hopes that something nearby would be able to help but nothing was helpful.
The blood at his feet was slowly pooling away from Olivia's body but he didn't care. He hadn't felt it before but now, it loomed in his mind. The blood bonds.
An ethereal rope that connected him, Olivia and Gen. A triangle made of blood and death. He could feel that she wasn't dying but she was as close to death a vampire could be. Her rope was fraying and he knew that the severing of the bloody rope would be disastrous.
X. X did this!
Rage began to slowly build in his heart. A sweet and familiar rage. His Aura exploded out of him and coated the area.
I'll kill him! I'll fucking kill him!
Immediately, he could feel a pressure building in his head. He swayed on his knees and his vision felt fuzzy for a moment. He looked down to see the last of Olivia's freely flowing blood get sucked into the page he had dropped.
Pick me. You want my power. Pick me. A fleeting voice sounded in his head and he shook it to clear away his dizziness. Slowly, he stretched a hand and picked the page. Yes.
Pick me. All the power you want, you shall have.
When he touched the page, there was a small crackle of ice coating it that slowly crawled up his hand. He turned the page over to see that the poem had disappeared. On the page was now the image of a beautiful life-like dragon!
The dragon had a sleek, slender body with two wings stretched out. Covered in jade green scales accented with black, the dragon lay coiled, displaying lazy strength. On its head were four horns, one growing long on each side of its head and two short stubs on its forehead.
The dragon's golden eyes stared out of the page like it was really looking at him. Urging him.
If his heart was still beating, it would have stopped.
Valaren!
The monster in the page had been a dragon!
Bind me! He heard a weak voice call out in his head and without hesitation, he reached out. If it had been the human Ezra, he would have exercised caution but vampire Ezra had too much to lose to let this opportunity go.
Ezra touched the drawing and the pain hit.
"Aaarrrrggghhhh!" Ezra clenched his fists as a scream of pain escaped through his gritted teeth. His vitality was burned to nothing in an instant.
The pain hit hard as a great well of power intertwined with every cell in his body.
A wave of power burst out of him and the pain ended abruptly. He swayed and his vision turned dark.
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Ezra woke up to the sensation of soft sheets beneath him.
The room was dimly lit, with the first rays of dawn filtering through the thick curtains. Everything felt surreal, almost as if he were viewing the world through a foggy lens. His thoughts were slow, disjointed.
He struggled to piece together where he was, and more importantly, why everything seemed so off-kilter. As he sat up, he realized he was inside a dream.
The room around him was in an old style, a far cry from the ultra-modern, sleek surroundings he was accustomed to.
The walls were painted in muted tones, adorned with abstract art. A sleek, minimalist desk sat in one corner, and the soft hum of an air conditioning unit was the only sound breaking the silence. Ezra swung his legs over the side of the bed, feeling the plush carpet under his feet, and stood up.
He made his way to the balcony, drawn by an inexplicable pull. The glass doors slid open soundlessly, revealing a breathtaking skyline.
Skyscrapers pierced the heavens, their windows glittering in the early light. The city below was just waking up, a symphony of distant car horns and city life rising to meet the dawn. He frowned. Had he been taken back to the twenty first century?
Standing at the edge of the balcony was a man. His back was turned, but even from this angle, Ezra could sense the raw power radiating from him.
The man's presence was commanding, almost overwhelming. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and his long, dark blue hair cascaded down his back. He wore a tailored suit that accentuated his imposing frame.
Without turning around, the man spoke, his voice deep and resonant. "Shadrach, what are you?"
Ezra blinked, taken aback by the name. Is this a memory? He knew his name wasn't Shadrach. "A vampire?" he replied, though his voice wavered with uncertainty.
The man chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the air. "Are you stating or asking, Shadrach?" He tilted his head and his hair rippled like it was alive. "What are you?"
This time, Ezra answered with more conviction. "A vampire."
The man nodded slowly, radiating approval. "And what do vampires do when faced with an enemy?"
The answer came to Ezra as if it were etched into his very soul. "They fight. They survive. And they destroy."
The man laughed, the sound, strangely comforting. Like what the laughter of a father should sound like. The man tilted his head to the side to give Ezra a glance. Ezra caught sight of golden eyes spinning slowly. Beautiful golden eyes.
"Give 'em hell, kid." He said, his voice a whisper that seemed to echo through the dream. "Give 'em hell."
And in that moment as everything was fading away, Ezra knew what he had to do.