The Devil At The Door

The candlelight flickered, casting eerie shadows along the cold, black marble floor. The air was thick with the scent of old blood and candle wax, the kind of heavy silence that only ancient beings knew how to appreciate.

The vampire in the doorway smirked, his fangs glinting in the dim glow of the sconces.

"You can call me…" He paused, his dark eyes drifting lazily from Kikidori to Haruna, drinking her in like a fine vintage. "…Lazarus."

Haruna shifted slightly, her arms crossing under her chest—not out of modesty, but to hide the slow curl of her fingers, ready to strike.

Kikidori didn't move, didn't blink. But the room felt colder.

A deadly silence stretched between them.

Then, Lazarus took a step forward, his boots clicking softly against the stone floor. His gaze flicked over Haruna's barely-dressed form, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You're quite the vision," Lazarus murmured, voice smooth as aged wine. His black coat swayed as he moved, his gloved hand casually adjusting the silver ring on his finger. "I must say, Kikidori, I never expected you to have such—"

The next second, Kikidori had him against the wall.

No movement. No warning. Just a blur of speed, a rush of cold air, and then Lazarus found himself pinned, Kikidori's fingers curled around his throat like iron bars.

Kikidori's fangs gleamed under the candlelight, his voice dangerously low.

"Finish that sentence," he whispered.

Lazarus smirked, utterly unfazed. "Protective, aren't we?"

Kikidori didn't reply. But his grip tightened.

Haruna, still leaning against the doorway, sighed dramatically and stretched, the motion making her bare skin catch the light. "Boys," she said, her voice like silk laced with venom. "Are we going to talk, or should I leave you two alone to flirt?"

Kikidori shot her a glare, but Haruna only grinned, running a hand through her dark hair.

Lazarus chuckled, his voice smooth despite Kikidori's hand still wrapped around his throat. "That's quite a woman you've got, Kikidori." His eyes flicked back to Haruna. "I bet you taste just as sweet as you look."

Before Haruna could respond, Kikidori slammed him against the wall so hard the stone cracked.

Lazarus let out a soft grunt of pain, but he was laughing now, his fangs bared. "Fine, fine," he coughed. "I'll behave."

Kikidori held him there for another second, his abyss-black eyes boring into Lazarus's, before finally letting go.

Lazarus straightened his coat, rolling his shoulders as if nothing had happened.

"Still dramatic as ever, I see." He smirked. "No wonder the Elders were always wary of you."

Kikidori crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall, his sharp eyes unreadable. "Why are you here?"

Lazarus exhaled slowly, running a hand through his dark hair. His expression darkened.

"There's a problem," he admitted. "And it involves our kind."

Haruna raised an eyebrow, stepping forward. "Since when do you care about 'our kind'?"

Lazarus's smirk faded. "Since someone started hunting us."

Silence.

Haruna and Kikidori exchanged a look.

"Hunting?" Kikidori's voice was low.

Lazarus nodded. "Not just the weak ones. Not just the fledglings. Elders are vanishing. Powerful ones. Ones older than even us." He glanced between them, his expression serious. "And you two… are next."

Haruna's smirk returned, slow and wicked. "Oh, that's cute."

Kikidori's fingers flexed at his sides, his mind already calculating. Planning. This was bad.

Lazarus tilted his head. "I came here because I know you two are survivors. And because, let's face it… you're the only two vampires crazy enough to fight back."

Kikidori exhaled, his jaw tightening. "And why should we trust you?"

Lazarus's smirk returned.

"You don't have to trust me," he said. "You just have to decide whether you want to be the hunters… or the hunted."

Haruna licked her fangs.

Kikidori clenched his jaw.

The candlelight flickered, shadows stretching long against the stone.

Outside, something moved in the darkness. Watching. Waiting.

The hunt had begun.

The End of Chapter 3.