The Touch Of Death

"When did she leave?" Alvin muttered under his breath.

"She left to prepare for our departure," Elara replied, her gaze finally moved away from the hunter to Alvin. "You should relax. You've just turned, and you have been through a lot in one day. I can handle this alone." There was a hint of worry in her eyes. 

Though her voice was barely a whisper, Alvin heard it as if she had spoken directly into his ear. He found the bond between them unsettling—but also strangely reassuring.

It was like he had married a woman he met for the first time in his life on the spot, but there was no way he could divorce her.

After a brief hesitation, he nodded and stepped back.

Wang Chen, however, let out a theatrical sigh, shaking his head. "Ignoring me and talking amongst yourselves… How rude."

He pressed one hand to his forehead, feigning offense. 

With the other, he discreetly tightened his grip around the metal handle of a sleek, futuristic sci-fi gun hidden behind his back.

"I'll have you know," he drawled, "I'm one of only ten inquisitor rank hunters in all of China. There are seven hunter ranks in total, and Inquisitor is the third strongest. You know—"

"No, I don't." Elara cut him off with a slow, amused smile.

"Even if you explained each rank in detail or recited your entire life's story to me…" she said, "I wouldn't bother remembering any of it, Mr. Hunter."

Wang Chen's expression stiffened; he stared at the woman before him with a baffled look on his face.

"You might have time to waste boasting about how strong—or how racist—you are, but you see…"

A sharp clack rang out as Elara vanished from his sight.

He blinked, and she appeared in front of him as if she had teleported; her crimson eyes gleamed with mischief.

"…I have limited time to enjoy myself." She finished with a slight tilt of her head, the tip of her umbrella trailing along the ground. "And hunters, they were never something we had to fear."

Wang Chen's relaxed demeanor evaporated. His instincts, honed from years of battling vampires, screamed at him.

Move!

Elara's left foot lifted off the ground.

He didn't hesitate and threw himself backward just as her foot slammed down.

BOOM!

The force of the impact shattered the ground beneath her, sending cracks sprawling outward like a spider's web.

Wang Chen's breath hitched. Monsters… Damn cursed vampires!

He looked back up—only to find Elara watching him with sparkling amusement.

"You dodged?" she mused. "How fascinating. To think humans could reach this level…"

Wang Chen said nothing, but his muscles tensed. He wasn't sure if she was praising him or mocking him.

Elara lowered her umbrella slightly, hiding her upper face in its shadow.

"Well then…" Her lips moved; a soft whisper echoed. "…It's time for my next move."

She vanished once more.

This time, Wang Chen was prepared. He watched carefully. He was sure he would see her coming. —

He didn't.

The air ripped apart.

By the time he realized where she was, the woman had changed her position several times, and she was already in front of him.

Her fingers curled into claws.

Slash!

Even knowing the attack was coming, his body failed to keep up. He lacked the power he needed to deal with the attack of such power.

Blood sprayed through the air like mist. Wang Chen was sent hurling backward, making an arc in the air.

Elara's eyes widened in delight as she gazed at her bloodstained nails. Only the tips of her nails were dripping with blood—her attack had been too shallow.

Wang Chen lay there on the ground, groaning in pain; he could hear his pulse pounding in his ears. 

The moment her claw appeared in his sight, it was as if time itself had slowed. He had seen everything—but his body was too sluggish, too human to react in time. He had to use everything he had; he had to go beyond what his body was capable of.

I won't survive another attack.

Think! There has to be a way—

Bang!

A split second before her claws could tear into him, a faint click echoed—the unmistakable sound of a hidden weapon firing.

The recoil from the weapon allowed Wang Chen to push himself back a bit, enough to avoid suffering from any fatal injuries.

Using the momentum of her attack, Wang Chen threw himself backward, narrowly escaping death.

Woosh! Thud!

He fell to the ground several feet away, panting, gun still in his hands.

Wang Chen wasted no time and jumped back up with a sudden jerk of his lower body. His breath was ragged, blood painting his old shirt with a new color.

"You dodged again?" She whispered, her voice filled with almost a childlike gleam. "How fun."

Elara cocked her head, intrigued. Her gaze flicked to the ground.

A single silver senbon needle could be seen embedded in the dirt. The middle was slightly thicker, extending into razor-thin tips.

The senbon embedded in the ground was identical to the ones Wang Chen had been using—almost.

Elara's sharp eyes caught something different. A faint red thread extended from the needle, stretching in Wang Chen's direction.

Hmm…

The thread was so thin, so delicate, that it flickered out of existence the moment she noticed it, as if it had never been there at all.

Her gaze narrowed. Upon closer inspection, she noticed tiny engravings etched into the senbon's metallic surface.

For a brief moment, curiosity flickered in her crimson eyes. But soon, she ignored it, not sensing any danger to herself.

Her attention shifted back to the hunter.

Wang Chen was struggling to move; his eyes were now fixed on Elara, widened with newfound realization, his fingers clutching at the torn fabric of his shirt.

'How did I not notice this before…' His disbelief could not remain hidden. 'How could she undo her vampire transformation?! No vampire I know of can do that! Even though they try to hide it, the prominent features of the vampires still stand out.'

'She is dangerous!' Wang Chen concluded, 'unlike any other vampire I have encountered. I have to get out of here and report everything to the association!'