Chapter 72: Home

Alaric sank into one of the worn armchairs in the dimly lit living room, crossing his legs with effortless grace. His eyes took in the shabby surroundings—sparse furniture, mismatched curtains, and a cracked mirror above the fireplace. Near the door, the man stood nervously, eyes flicking back and forth between Alaric and the exit, too anxious to sit.

"Not bad," Alaric mused, his voice smooth as silk. He ran his fingers along the armrest, tracing the grooves in the fabric as if studying the intricacies of an ancient relic. "Definitely cozier than my childhood home... Mama didn't have much, but it was enough to survive the winter."

Alaric's gaze softened for a moment as his fingers lingered on the armrest.His voice dropped, taking on a quieter tone, tinged with a sadness that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Too bad she wanted me dead," he continued, almost wistfully. "Otherwise, I would've been a good little boy, worked my ass off to make her better." He chuckled dryly, but the sound was hollow, bitter. His expression, however, betrayed no true emotion—only a mocking twist of his lips, as if the sadness were a mask he wore for his own amusement.

The man stiffened, his jaw clenched as though Alaric's comment carried more weight than any insult. He froze, his body trembling slightly, unsure whether to move or speak. Alaric's gaze locked onto him, sharp and unyielding. He could see the fear building in the man, the way his muscles tensed, a sense of danger simmering in the air like a storm waiting to break. The man opened his mouth to speak, but the words faltered, trapped in his throat.

Alaric's lips curled into a soft, mocking smile, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling amusement. "You're scared, aren't you?" he asked, his tone almost playful, like he enjoyed the fear in the man's silence.

The man swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. His voice cracked under the strain. "I... I don't know what you are."

Alaric leaned forward in the chair, tilting his head slightly as his smile deepened. "What do you think I am?" he teased, his voice lowering to a whisper, as if revealing some forbidden truth.

The man's eyes darted nervously, his pulse quickening. "I don't know... I just know you're not like everyone else."

Alaric chuckled, a dark, rich sound that reverberated through the room, unsettling in its depth. He watched the man's hands tremble as they clutched the back of a chair, desperate for something solid to hold on to. The fear was palpable now, thick in the air.

"Don't worry," Alaric said, his voice smooth and soothing, though the malice beneath it was unmistakable. "I'm harmless... for now." He raised a hand, tapping the small iron chain around his neck. "Eric's probably forgotten to give me permission to kill you." His words were effortless, almost casual—an elegant lie wrapped in a dangerous tone.

Then, with a shift in his demeanor, Alaric's eyes flared, turning from a cold gray to an unsettling pitch-black.

"I've been called many names ," Alaric continued, his voice now a soft, deadly murmur. "Demon. Vampire. Immortal. I don't truly know what I am... only that I'm a mix of very powerful creatures." His eyes gleamed "I'm an abomination," he finished.

In the blink of an eye, Alaric was no longer sitting in the chair. He was in front of the man, his presence sudden and unsettling. The air in the room shifted, his eyes wide, heart racing. His body stiffened as he moved the gun to Alaric's face .

His finger trembled on the trigger as he pointed it toward Alaric, the barrel cold and steady in his grasp, but his arm felt like it was made of lead. Fear gripped him, his instincts screaming that this would be his last stand. The man's breath came in short, panicked bursts, and his voice cracked as he stammered, "D-don't come any closer."

Alaric didn't flinch. His eyes, glowing faintly with a dangerous gleam, locked onto the man's trembling form.

The man stumbled back, his eyes wide in disbelief, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. He opened his mouth to protest, but the words died in his throat when he saw Alaric's icy, unblinking stare.

"I don't think you're in a position to threaten me," Alaric said calmly, his voice low, smooth, and dangerously sweet. "I want to ask you a few questions."

The man, still reeling from the shock of Alaric's speed and sudden aggression, backed away, but the walls of the small living room kept him trapped. His mind raced, his instincts screaming to run, to do something, but his body was frozen with fear, his muscles refusing to obey.

Alaric's gaze never left the man as he spoke.

"You know," Alaric began, his voice a smooth, almost affectionate murmur, "somewhere in this world, there's a place—a little village, long gone now, burnt to the ground by my own hands. People thought it was just lost to time, but they were wrong." He leaned in a fraction, savoring the confusion written all over the man's face. "Powerful magic held by the strongest warlock created something better from it, a safe haven, a place where I could truly be... myself." His smile was dark, and there was a flicker in his eyes that made the hairs on the back of the man's neck rise.

He leaned back, letting the silence hang in the air as the man struggled to make sense of what was being said. Alaric knew the confusion was only adding to his unease, twisting him further into a state of helplessness.

"I've grown fond of the place,as it's the only thing I have left of him" Alaric continued, his words flowing with ease. "It's not just for me anymore. The little vampire you shot ,I want to take him there." He paused for effect, watching the man's face go pale. "A pet, if you will. One I've come to care about... more than I should."

The man opened his mouth, his thoughts scrambling, but no words came out. Alaric smiled again, almost as though he were explaining something trivial.

"The village should still be there," Alaric said, tapping his fingers lightly on the back of the chair. "But I don't know where it is anymore. It's hidden, even from me at times. The place... it shifts. Or maybe I've just forgotten."

"It's hidden away, nestled deep in a forest, surrounded by a waterfall so massive, so overwhelming, it might just be the biggest you've ever seen. It's a beauty most never even get the chance to appreciate. Or survive to describe if they venture out to far."

The man's breath quickened, his confusion turning into a tremor of fear. He blinked, trying to piece together what Alaric was saying, his mind struggling to process the surreal, almost impossible image.

"Imagine it," Alaric continued, his tone soft and seductive. "This forest... thick with trees, towering like giants, their roots so deep you'd swear they're reaching into the earth's veins. The mortals I have seen have come to love it,but I do not know if that is true in this time period. A hidden gem."

He leaned forward again, his eyes glowing softly in the dim light, and spoke the last words with a touch of menace. "It's still out there, waiting for me. And now, it's waiting for my... pet. It'll be a home for him too, a place to keep him safe. You see, I protect what's mine and Eric needs to get stronger to protect himself but that will take time."

"If you know the place," Alaric said softly, almost conversationally, "then you should tell me. Because you see... your life depends on it now. If you don't, if you don't answer me, your time will be up. And I won't let you live long enough to regret it."

The words were chilling in their simplicity. There was no threat in them, not really—just the heavy, unspoken certainty that Alaric would get what he wanted, one way or another. His smile never faltered. He was giving the man a choice, though it was a choice that led only to one path. The room seemed to close in, the walls pressing tighter as the air grew thicker with tension.

"You—You..." The man stammered, his voice cracking with panic. "You can't be serious. This is madness. This whole thing—it's not possible."

Alaric tilted his head slightly, his expression never changing. "Everything is possible, when you're willing to make it so."

The man's eyes flicked to the gun in his hand, then back to Alaric's calm face. His fear twisted into a desperate impulse. Without warning, the man jerked his hand up, pointing the gun directly at Alaric's face. His finger tightened on the trigger.

BANG.

The sound was deafening, a violent crack in the stillness of the room. The bullet hit Alaric square in the face, the impact violent, a flash of bright pain... but it didn't last.