“Blind Hunters”

Michael

It was maddening.

Every lead we followed led to nothing. A name, a place, an old legend—but nothing tangible. We were hunters, yet we were stumbling in the dark.

"We need a better strategy," I muttered.

Raphael scoffed. "Or just one damn clue that doesn't lead to another dead end."

Gabriel said nothing. He hated it as much as we did.

Then came the next lead.

And it took us to the edge of death.

Gabriel

"He lived here," the man before us said, rubbing his dirty hands together. "A few years ago. Strange guy. Kept to himself."

"And now?" Raphael asked.

The man shrugged. "Maybe dead. Maybe not."

I closed my eyes. Another vague answer. No real facts. But then he said something that made me listen.

"But if you really want to find him… you should talk to the rats in Southwark."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Rats?"

The man smirked. "They know things. And they sell them to the highest bidder."

Raphael

I hated this part of the city.

Southwark wasn't a place for men who had anything left to lose. A swamp of thieves, murderers, and things even worse.

"This is a trap," I muttered.

Gabriel nodded. "Probably."

Michael glanced around. "But it's our best lead."

So we moved forward.

And walked straight into the arms of death.

Michael

The rats were already waiting for us.

Four men. Not ordinary thieves. Their movements were too smooth, their eyes too sharp. And their leader? He carried a blade that gleamed in the dark.

"Well, well," he grinned—his teeth too sharp to be human.

Vampire scum.

"Hunters looking for lost souls?"

Raphael raised his lance. "If you know what's good for you, you'll step aside."

The vampire chuckled. "You died too early, little hunters."

Then the fight began.

Gabriel

We fought.

With everything we had. With all our fury.

But it wasn't enough.

One of the vampires grabbed me, throwing me against a wall. Pain ripped through me. My bones groaned under the impact.

Michael severed an arm—but the bastard barely flinched.

Raphael fought like a demon. But we were outnumbered.

We were going to die.

Then came the whisper.

Raphael

A shadow moved in the darkness.

It came out of nowhere. A blade flashed—faster than I could follow.

A head hit the ground. Then a body.

The vampire with the blade gasped as something unseen struck him.

In less than a second, it was over.

And our savior?

This time, he lingered.

Michael

I saw him.

Not his face. Not his eyes. But I saw the coat he wore. Black, worn, scarred.

He looked like a hunter.

"Who are you?" I called.

He didn't answer.

He turned, leapt onto a wall, and disappeared into the mist.

But this time, he left something behind.

Gabriel picked it up. A piece of old parchment.

A name was written on it.

Isaac Crowe.