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  Chapter 116- Voracious Vampire.

  It was like a flashbang had struck me as suddenly all I could see was white, and the sound in my ears was deafening. All of my alert wards and defences had rang out all at once, right in the middle of my head, and I couldn't do anything but clamp my hands on my head as if that would help. Not to mention, my pain and panic were enhanced beyond limitations because of the fact that I heard someone speak right into my ear right before my defences sounded. How does that work? He was in before my defences worked, and then they all rang out at once?

  "Oh, poor little lamb. I do hope nothing breaks inside of there. I'm sure I could find some amusement in there, but broken people are hopelessly dull." I feel someone tap me on the forehead, but it feels like the finger is digging into my skull. Even in pain and unable to properly sense anything, I know where my wand is, and I know how to use my magic, so I have my wand pop into my hand from its wand holster on my wrist. Without pause, I swung my wand in the direction the voice came from and let out a Diffindo.

  I can't see it properly, but I can just about make out a lot of things falling down, and I can hear it as well. I assume my spell went through the wall and collapsed that side of the monastery. "Oh ho, it seems this little ant has claws. Ah, you will be fun, won't you." I hear behind me, and I spin around to attack in that direction, but my assailant clenches a hand around my wrist, preventing me from aiming at him, and then he clenches hard.

  "Arghh!" I scream, and my wrist is snapped, and my fingers involuntarily spasm in pain, and my wand clatters to the floor, and all I feel is unrelenting terror as I hear a dark chuckle in front of my face. "Ah, none of that. I don't want you hurting my old church too much; I've got a lot of memories in this place." It is by this point my vision clears up, and my head stops being so muddy. I don't know if it is because of the intense physical pain or what, but now I can see clearly the being in front of me.

  The thing in front of me exudes an aura of predatory grace. It looks human, but I know deep in my bones it is not. It is a creature forged by something I couldn't possibly begin to fathom. It does seem to be male, though its beauty is confusing in that regard. He stands tall and imposing, with a poise that speaks of old-world nobility and lethal precision. His presence commands silence like a blade unsheathed in a quiet room.

  His hair, long and silver as moonlight on still water, flows past his shoulders in silken waves. Not a strand out of place, it frames a face carved in aristocratic perfection. He has high cheekbones, a sharply defined jaw, and a mouth perpetually poised between an enigmatic smile and a snarl, and yet, somehow, it is still the most eloquent smile I have ever seen. His skin is deathly pale, not sickly, but luminescent like marble, giving him a spectral elegance. It seems to glow, just like the moon.

  But it's his eyes that silence conversation and drive everyone to stand still in awe and fear. Blood-red irises, deep and ancient, glimmer like garnets in a black velvet box. These eyes are not simply for looking. They do so much more, and being under them feels like you are being dissected. I notice he doesn't blink, and as if he had caught me noticing that he does, it's deliberate. Every glance from him feels like a judgment rendered centuries before you were born. It is as if he is playing the Sims, and I am a sim that just speaks Simlish.

  His attire is a masterclass in upper-class aristocracy: a nobleman's ensemble hewn from shadow and stitched with menace. A long black velvet coat sweeps to his ankles, embroidered with silver thread in swirling baroque patterns. Lunar crescents and thorned vines winding up the sleeves and shoulders. The lining of the coat is deep crimson satin, revealed only when the garment billows in his wake.

  Beneath the coat, he wears a high-collared waistcoat of obsidian silk, fastened with polished onyx buttons, each etched with a sigil of some kind that must have meaning. I've seen it before, in the book. A ruffled white cravat rests at his throat like the last trace of civility before the storm. Black leather gloves sheathe his long fingers, and on top of the gloves, he wears a sigil ring on his left hand. It is a blood-red stone shaped like a heart, set in ornate silver. It beckons me to stare into it and lose myself, but the pain of my wrist is enough to keep me from slipping.

  His trousers are tight and tailored, tucked into polished black boots that rise just below the knee, their soles silent against the floor as he steps in close to me, wrenching my arm up into the air, where my wrist is only in front of his face. He is insanely tall, and it is only when he goes back up to his full height that I notice he was menacingly brooding over me and lowering himself down. Around his shoulders hangs a cloak that is like the night itself, draped and fastened with a brooch shaped like a bat-winged moon. If it isn't clear by now, then I believe this guy is a vampire. One very high up on the totem pole.

  He watches me calmly with a sadistic, placid smile. He does not shout, nor rage. He simply waits silently, and as if in fear, the rest of the world waits in silence as well, afraid to anger him. I can feel the magic around us bending for him, and the fear inside me builds as I see faces and mouths in his shadow. I can feel them whisper of death and anguish, sending out a warning to stay away and run, and yet, they also try to draw me in, as if adding another person to suffer will somehow lessen their own suffering. To stand in this man's presence is to feel cold seep into your bones… and you feel it would be better to end your own life than to submit to his mercies.

  "Done with your little internal monologue of how inferior to me you are and how I am the ultimate being in existence, and you should either kneel down in worship or kill yourself?" The devilishly handsome man asks, and I find myself shocked but still unable to speak. "Oh, don't worry, I didn't read your mind. You actually have very impressive defences, but what do I care for the simperings and thoughts of a lesser being. I just know how you little lambs react after coming face to face with greatness." He chuckles, looking down at me like you would a disabled mongrel, with derisive pity.

  It was then that I remembered what he said, looked back up at the altar to Jesus on the cross, and realised that the man on the cross and the man in front of me were one and the same. "Jesus?" I can't help but let the name out, and the man pauses for a second before laughing pleasantly and letting go of my wrist, which I cradle as I drop to my knees on the floor. "Hm, yes, the people that worshipped at this church did call me that, though they called me something else much more. Do you know what that was?" I look up at him and witness his smile become inhuman and wide. "They called me God." He laughs, and I ignore what he says as I grab my wand off of the floor with my good hand.

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  "Now, now, are you sure you want to do that? If I have to break that wrist as well, then you won't be able to heal yourself, will you?" He whispers right into my ear from behind me. It was like instant teleportation. One second, he was in front of me, chuckling, and then, as soon as I grabbed the wand, he was behind me faster than I could react. It was instant, and I made the sensible choice to not attack, but I did still keep a hold of my wand. "Good, I knew there was a reason I liked you. Not insane enough to go berserk and kill yourself, but not rational enough to kneel and beg for your life. A breath of fresh air, I must say." He smiled as he took a seat on a pew, making the broken-down wooden furniture into a throne fit for a king, even though it didn't change at all.

  "W-Why are you?" I couldn't help but begin to question, looking between the man in front of me and the man on the cross, but I quickly closed my mouth, not wanting to irritate the man and have him be more drastic with me. Thankfully, he seems to be in a cheerful mood. "Oh, why is the Jesus in this church me? Because it was modelled after me. They thought I was god or Jesus. That whole religion is confusing, really. What even is a holy ghost?" He shakes his head in amusement as if he is once more listening to the stupid people who used to inhabit this church.

  "It was a few centuries ago. I got bored and found this quaint little monastery with a village beside it, completely isolated from the rest of the world, and I thought I could have a little fun vacation here. And I truly did have a wonderful time." He flips his head back and reminisces whilst staring at the ceiling, thinking about good times. I contemplate attacking now, but I know that is a fool's gambit. "Yes, I descended onto them, and they fell over themselves to worship me. I had them eating out of my palms and doing the most absurd things possible, but they did it out of faith. Hilarious. I remember the midnight mass I used to hold where they would eat a newborn child just because I said they would be closer to god."

  I suppress the shudder that runs through me, horrified at what I am hearing. "Ah, some of my greatest hits, but they did miss quite a few, and there are a lot of details missing. But then again, they always kept their distance out of fear." He says, flipping through the book as if he was going through old family albums. And it is only now that I realise it is in his hands, and he is going through it at a way faster speed than I did, even with my glasses. "But if I knew that they held knowledge of the Lunar Heart, then I would have confronted them long ago. Sadly, I just thought they were an order made to fight me and could only record my feats out of fear. I let them be because I do think my own gospel needed creating, but sadly, that's over, and it ended with this book being given to you."

  "Who are you?" I finally managed to find myself, and I came to the grounding reality that I was not in control of my own fate here and that there was nothing I could do about it. So I should at least try and find out what's going on before this guy decides to kill me, and maybe I can put up a bit of a fight. "Ah, that is right. Forgive my manners; I had learned long ago that etiquette is what separates the truly noble from the mongrels, and even animals can be trained." He tosses the book to the side and stands up to his full height, gesturing to his chest and performing a royal bow or something. "I, am Lucian D'Arcana. Patriarch of the D'Arcana Clan. An honour for you, you tiny little morsel." He finishes, referring to me as food, which does not lend confidence to my odds of surviving this encounter.

  Ah, the head honcho of the entire vampire family that rules Italy and the terrifying guy who wants the Lunar Heart. And now, here he is, in front of me. "How did you find me?" I ask, wanting to know so I can prevent it in the future if I have the opportunity to do so. "Oh, I never lost you. Well, my subordinates didn't. You were tracked the entire time. I always had people watching that old man, just in case he died, and I could collect this nice piece of family history." He lifts the book up before placing it inside of his robe for safekeeping.

  "To be honest with you, I don't even know who you are. Apparently, you upset one of my daughters when you didn't fall to her allure on the beach and follow her, so she sent an assassin to kill you. It is unfortunate that because of that, the old man died, and now I have no record keeper that can capture such total and utter fear and terror in their words. That little assassin is paying dearly for that mistake; do not worry about that. He came back without a leg, and soon he will be missing more." He begins to walk around, looking around the decaying monastery.

  "I only came to collect the book, but since you came to such an auspicious location, especially with the Lunar Heart soon to be in my grasp, I am feeling generous. Come, whoever you are, and become my subordinate. I will drain the blood from your body, and then you will hunger for lifeblood forever, existing until existence ends. Come forth." He beckons, and I hesitate, not moving forward or backwards. I am caught between wanting to live and not wanting to see what living is under such a cruel man. And then, he is in front of me, a long finger outstretched to my face.

  "In such shocked awe at my magnanimous offer, are we? Very well, for that, a little painful taster is in order." then I noticed that the finger coming to me had a very long nail at its end, sharpened to a point, clearly grown out just now and as lethal as a knife. I can't do anything before it cuts into my neck and draws blood; thankfully, he pulls away, taking things slow, probably just to make this more painful for me. "Wizard blood always varies, depending on the wizard, what magic they use, who they are, and what they do. Each one tastes different, not unakin to that dreadful sweet, those every flavoured beans. You are fetching for a mortal, so I anticipate the sweet nectar of your veins." He laughs and then brings his finger to his mouth like a lollipop and sucks on it.

  And then I watch as his face turns from the deathly pale it was to a bright red, and veins begin to pop out on his forehead as he sputters and chokes. "A-Agh! Dragon blood!" He roars, stumbling backwards whilst clutching at his throat and staring bloody murder at me. I know I am now destined for death, so I jump to my feet whilst he is disabled and slash my wand at him, letting loose a stream of fire at him that has him retreating backwards, and he screams and hisses at me. My mind races as I try to remember everything a vampire might be weak to, not only from the knowledge found in this world but from every piece of media in my past.

  Fire seems to be doing the trick for the moment, and I can see it burning him, but he resists it with crossed arms. He is slowly advancing towards me, his screaming turning into angry snarls, and I can see his face through the flames. His face is no longer beautiful. Instead, it is like a nightmare, his jaw distended and dropping unnaturally low, revealing insanely sharp teeth and a gullet that holds a deep, dark void. The fire has spread to the rest of the building, and it will soon come down around us. Knowing I need to escape now and not caring about the book since I have already read it, I am going for a move I am sure no one expects. I use one of the only things the media agrees vampires are weak against, mostly. One says they sparkle.

  "Lumos Solem!" I roar, cutting off the flames and thrusting my wand at the vampire. A massive ray of pure sunshine blasts out of my wand and strikes the man centre mass, blasting him backwards. I can hear his cries of anguish, but I can hardly see anything, afflicted by my own spell. Taking the opportunity granted to me, I quickly focus on apparating myself out of there, and with a crack, I am gone, and I find myself staring at a dark forest. I don't waste any time and proceed to apparate three more times in succession, ending up at the beach, where there is a calm as the waves lap at the shore.

  I take a moment to enjoy the calm before I turn away from it and begin to walk away, clutching my wrist.

  Another Chapter. Is this consistency? Why does it feel so good?

  Upcoming Chapters:

  Hero: Chapter 117-A Meeting Beneath The Streets.

  Super: Chapter 119- The Next Leader.

  Legendary: Chapter 121- Untrustworthy.

  Galactic: Chapter 125- [R-18] Hex on The Beach.

  Mythic: Chapter 128- Screw Italy.

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  That is all for now. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I will see you in the next one!

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