Chapter 54

Meanwhile somewhere in the dimly lit streets of the same town.

A figure dashed through the shadows with an urgency that belied its immortal nature. The vampire, typically composed and unyielding, found himself in a state of panic, his undead heart pounding within his chest—a sensation foreign to his kind. Despite the cool night air, beads of perspiration glistened on his brow, a phenomenon he found both perplexing and alarming, for vampires, as a rule, did not sweat.

Each step carried him farther from an unseen threat, yet closer to an uncertain fate. The echoes of distant gunshots reverberated through the alleys, mingling with cries for help that pierced the stillness of the night. Instinct urged him to intervene, to aid those in distress, but self-preservation prevailed, whispering that in this world, every vampire must fend for itself.

His mind raced as swiftly as his feet, grappling with the enigma of his newfound vulnerability. What force could compel a creature of the night to flee in terror? What power could disrupt the timeless equilibrium of the undead? These questions haunted him as he navigated the labyrinthine streets, each twist and turn a testament to his desperate flight,

the vampires heart pounding with a rhythm that matched the frantic pace of his footsteps and again his shout should already stop beating but for some magical reason it is beating, the vampire found himself confronted with a dire realization: the source of the cries of agony and the sharp cracks of gunfire was drawing nearer, inexorably closing in on him. With each passing moment, the looming threat edged closer, casting a pall of dread over his already troubled mind.

Faced with the looming specter of imminent danger, the vampire's instincts screamed for him to seek refuge, to find sanctuary from the chaos that threatened to engulf him. And so, with no other recourse available, he seized upon the nearest haven—a nondescript house that loomed before him like a fortress against the encroaching darkness.

In desperation, he lunged towards the door, fingers grasping at the cold metal handle, only to be met with unexpected resistance. The door, seemingly imbued with a will of its own, refused to yield to his touch, stubbornly resisting his attempts to gain entry. With a sense of mounting frustration, he persisted, exerting all his strength in a futile attempt to breach the barrier that stood between him and safety.

Yet, to his dismay, his efforts were in vain. As he grappled with the obstinate door, a force from within pushed back, thwarting his every advance with a resolute determination that bordered on the uncanny.

"Please let me in!!" The vampire's plea echoed through the stillness of the night, a desperate cry borne of fear and urgency. His voice cracked with a raw intensity that betrayed the depth of his terror. Yet, despite his fervent entreaties, the door remained steadfast, its unyielding barrier a testament to the unseen force that held sway within.

Inside the house, the vampire's words reverberated with a haunting resonance, mingling with the quiet tremor of apprehension that gripped its inhabitants. "Be quiet, you'll attract him here" came the response, tinged with a note of desperation. It was a plea born of survival, a last-ditch effort to ward off the encroaching peril that lurked just beyond their threshold.

But their caution came too late, for even as the words hung in the air like a fragile thread, a sinister melody pierced the silence—a haunting tune that danced on the edges of perception, its eerie strains seeping into the very fabric of reality. "London Bridge is falling down…" sang the unseen presence, its voice lilting with a chilling allure that sent shivers cascading down their spines. In an instant, panic seized hold of both vampires, their metaphorical hearts pounding in tandem with the ominous refrain that echoed through the confines of the house. For they knew all too well the significance of that haunting melody, the harbinger of death that keeps killing their kind this night.

The vampire holding the door, his resolve wavering in the face of mounting terror, was suddenly overcome by a surge of compassion. Perhaps it was the primal instinct for survival, or a fleeting moment of empathy amidst the chaos, but whatever the reason, he hesitated no longer. He swung the door open, a silent invitation for his fellow creature of the night to seek refuge within the relative safety of their shared sanctuary.

As the second vampire crossed the threshold, a fleeting glance passed between them, a wordless acknowledgment of the bond forged in the crucible of their shared fear. There was no time for words of gratitude, no room for sentimentality, as the specter of imminent danger loomed ever closer, casting a shadow over their fragile alliance.

But before they could even draw breath to speak, their sanctuary was shattered by a sudden, ominous knock—a sound that echoed through the very marrow of their bones, mimicking the erratic rhythm of their own frantic heartbeats. Panic surged anew, a visceral wave that swept through their trembling forms, driving them to seek refuge in the shadows that clung to the corners of the room.

Glancing to each other, they wordlessly communicated their shared understanding: they were not alone in this perilous dance with death. The hunter, relentless and implacable, stalked the night with a predatory cunning that struck fear into the hearts of even the most seasoned of their kind.

And so, with hearts pounding in unison and breath held in bated anticipation, they scrambled to conceal themselves amidst the labyrinthine depths of their makeshift refuge. In the silence that followed, broken only by the steady thrum of their own heartbeat, they prayed to whatever dark deity held sway over their fate, hoping against hope that the hunter would pass them by, unaware of their presence in the shadows. 

They cowered in their respective hiding places, the vampire who had sought refuge within the closet peered through the narrow gaps, his gaze falling upon the obscured form of his companion. In the dim light, he could discern little more than the outline of the other vampire, huddled in the shadows with a desperation mirrored in his own trembling form. Yet, despite the veil of darkness that shrouded them, a silent understanding passed between them—a recognition of the shared vulnerability that bound them together in this moment of peril. He waited, heart pounding in his chest like a relentless drumbeat, the vampire found his thoughts drifting back to a time when the roles were reversed, when he had prowled the night with a predator's grace, hunting unsuspecting humans.

The door creaked open on protesting hinges, admitting the ominous figure of the hunter into the dimly lit confines of the house. His presence filled the space with a palpable malevolence, his every movement a macabre dance to the haunting melody that hung heavy in the air. With each step, his boots echoed against the floorboards, a sinister rhythm that reverberated through the very marrow of their bones.

The hunter advanced, his voice joined the chorus of dread, his humming a chilling symphony of death that sent shivers cascading down their spines. "Fallen down, fallen down" he intoned, each syllable dripping with menace as though heralding the inevitable descent into darkness that awaited them all. Trapped in their hiding places, the two vampires could feel the suffocating hand of death closing in around them, its icy grip tightening with each passing moment.

With bated breath, the vampire concealed within the confines of the closet watched with a mixture of horror and morbid fascination as the hunter drew closer, his footsteps echoing ominously in the hushed stillness of the room. Through the narrow gaps in the closet door, he strained to catch a glimpse of the unfolding tragedy, his heart hammering against his ribs like a captive bird desperate to escape its cage.

Meanwhile, the vampire outside the closet trembled in abject terror, his very essence suffused with an overwhelming sense of dread. With each passing moment, he found himself wishing fervently for the nightmare to end, for the merciless grip of fear to release its hold upon his trembling form. Yet, as if in cruel mockery of his silent pleas, the hunter drew ever nearer, his haunting melody of death weaving a sinister tapestry of despair that ensnared them both in its chilling embrace.

And then, as if summoned by the vampire's desperate prayers, the hunter's gaze fell upon the hiding place of his prey, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that sent shivers coursing down the vampire's spine. "My first lady" the hunter closed the distance between them, his grip like a vice around the vampire's neck, crushing the fragile remnants of hope that still lingered within him.

In a futile attempt to break free from the hunter's merciless grasp, the vampire lashed out with clawed hands, desperation lending strength to his feeble struggles. But it was all for naught, for the hunter's smirk remained unyielding, a cruel testament to the futility of resistance in the face of inevitable demise.

The hunter snapped the vampire's neck with a sickening crunch, before delivering the final blow—a swift beheading that severed the last tether of life from his once-immortal form. And as the vampire's corpse slumped to the ground, a silent witness to the cruelty of fate, the hunter, with a flicker of malice in his eyes, whisked the lifeless body away to somewhere, leaving behind only the lingering echo of his haunting melody and the suffocating pall of death.

The harrowing scene unfolded before him, the vampire hidden within the confines of the closet fought against the urge to scream, his throat constricted with a suffocating wave of despair. Tears welled in his eyes, unbidden and unchecked, as he bore witness to the tragic demise of the vampire who had offered him sanctuary, a silent witness to the merciless cruelty of the hunter who stalked the night with a predatory cunning that knew no bounds.

With the lifeless body of vampire lying at his feet, the hunter turned his gaze left and right, a silent sentinel surveying the desolate landscape for any sign of intrusion. Satisfied that his grim work had gone unnoticed, he allowed a smirk to play upon his lips—a twisted expression of satisfaction that went unseen by the trembling vampire hidden in the shadows.

Slowly, almost casually, the hunter made his exit from the house, his footsteps echoing in the silence like a grim proclamation of victory. But unbeknownst to the vampire cowering in the closet, the hunter's departure was but a prelude to an even darker fate.

The vampire in the closet waited, each passing second felt like an eternity, the weight of dread pressing down upon him like a suffocating blanket. He finally summoned the courage to open the closet door, his heart hammering in his chest as he scanned the room for any sign of the hunter's presence.

Finding nothing but the eerie stillness of the empty house, he allowed himself a sigh of relief, a faint glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness that threatened to consume him. With a tentative step forward, he emerged from his hiding place, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he dared to believe that he had escaped the hunter's clutches unscathed. But his moment of respite was short-lived, shattered by the sudden emergence of the hunter from the depths of the very closet he had sought refuge in.

Before he could react, before he could utter a single word of protest, the hunter was upon him, his whispered taunt of "Peek a boo" a mocking echo of the innocence of childhood games. And in that final, fleeting moment, as the vampire gasped in disbelief, he knew that his fate was sealed—that he would meet his end at the hands of the very creature he had sought to elude. With a shudder that wracked his entire being, he succumbed to the inevitable embrace of death, his last breath stolen away by the merciless grip of the hunter's hand.

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The hunter, known by the name Alucard, surveyed the lifeless form of the vampire at his feet, his crimson eyes . With a flicker of his fingers, whisk away the corpse away to Valeries location. As he turned his gaze towards the direction of Valerie, a smirk played upon his lips, the twisted amusement of a predator toying with its prey. With a casual stretch of his lithe form, he muttered to himself, "It seems Valerie needs me now," before disappearing into the shadows, leaving behind only the lingering echo of his chilling presence

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I plan to create an omake chapters about his daughters in the future so please recommend an op abilities for them.