Levi stood watching husband and wife, his grin growing wider as he addressed them both:
"Pay the tribute, or loose your lives," deep, fascinated, and corrupted with gleeful sadism, his towering figure blocked their only entrance and exit from their home.
His body oozed a demented sensation that petrified both Gordon and Cynthia, their eyes filled with horror as they looked back at Levi, breathing heavily, seemingly incapable of looking away.
"What's wrong? You folks look like you've seen a ghost," he said, shaking his head. "Stop kissing and pay up, else you know what's going to happen."
Levi waltzed into the acrid abode, leather boots pressing against wooden fragments as he covered the distance.
His figure towered above them, luminescent eyes staring down at quaking faces.
Despite the direness of the situation, Cynthia's petrified expression slowly loosened as she looked back at her husband, her eyes gradually softening as she spoke:
"I apologize, but we won't be able to pay this month's tribute."
Levi's grin grew wider still.
"In that case..." A crimson blade materialized within his grasp, the glowing blade throwing more light within the tenebrous enclosure. "Thank you."
Standing not too far away, the children lingered, their bodies clad in gluttonous fright. Their eyes grew wide, breaths uneven and heavily burdened. Their heart rates grew frantic, bodies trembling as they gazed upon the gargantuan man standing within their home.
The oldest out of the three hugged his siblings tightly, grounding his teeth as he watched the scene unfold before him with abysmal fury.
Tears rushed from his eyes as he cursed under his breath:
"Those Dark Kings... Curse them!"
Levi caressed his executioner's sword within callous fingers, drawing the crimson blade in the air.
Seconds past before he brought down the fiendish weapon. The blade glided with frightening speed, producing a sharp noise as it drew alarmingly close to its target.
A high-pitched scream intercepted the terror, the oldest child abandoning his younger siblings, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to his mother's side.
The crimson blade tore through flesh and bone, conjuring a gaping wound that fiercely robbed her of blood. A sea of red instantly formed around her, a satisfied expression plastered on her face.
Every fleeting moment plundered more essence from her being.
Gordon's body swayed, his mouth hanging open, unable to utter even a stifled sentence. His expression remained petrified, every movement drawing to a sharp halt.
He found himself plunged into a cancerous ocean of darkness. All around him, the black mass writtled and whispered, endless voices echoing off the crumbling walls of his sanity.
"Coward..."
"It should have been you..."
"You sorry excuse of a man..."
"I apologize, but we won't be able to pay this month's tribute!"
"I hate you!"
Then, he fell to his knees, mind and body still incapable of processing what had just transpired.
Countless moments past in dreadful silence, the towering figure eventually growing bored before turning around, heading out of the small house.
"Shocked? I don't blame you. Everyone goes through the same thing," nonchalance embroidered itself into his tone, each word piercing Gordon's soul with cumbersome brutality. "Next time, you'll be wise to save enough to pay the tribute. I guess now that there's one less mouth to feed, it'll become a lot easier to save. When you think about it, I actually did you a favor."
"I hate you!" The statement echoed with arduous ferocity, depleting his rationality with unyielding force. The darkness twisted with vindicative vigor, drawing closer to him.
Bathed in their escalating voices, his mind crumbled to a greater degree.
His hands began to shake, ascending from the bloodied floor.
He lightly touched his cheeks, frozen eyes staring down into the darkness.
An ill-looking woman stared back at him, her raven black hair dancing in the wind as she offered him a reassuring smile.
"And do you expect me to stand by and watch the man I love sacrifice himself? Let me carry this cross for you, for our children," her soothing tone echoed in the midst of voracious shadows, his skeletal figure slowly vanishing amidst their insatiable desires.
Dry lips parted, struggling to speak:
"I... I..." His voice repeated, unable to push past the shock. His eyes shuffled across the space, falling upon his blood-stained fingers, sweat adorning his body with disturbing attraction.
"I hate you!" The voice drew closer, deep rigors of contempt exuding from its depths.
The next moment, the boy ran past his father, collapsing beside his dying mother as he sobbed nonstop.
"M-mum, please... Don't... don't die... Please...!" He sniffled, pressing his hands firmly against the deep gash. However, his efforts were blessed by the fruits of futility. Life continuously departed from Cynthia's eyes.
Her lips struggled to form meaningful sounds, her gaze staring back at her son as her presence lessened.
"... Rapha...el... son..." She eventually muttered, a short span of coughs following right after. "I'm sorry... I.."
Raphael drew his face closed to hers, speaking in defiance:
"Don't say anything! You're loosing too much blood. Just hold on. Save your strength!" He looked down at his hands, then added with a shaky breaths. "I... can heal you. Yes, I can..."
He began to concentrate, channelling his blood magic through his fingers into her wound. What he was currently performing was Blood Weave—the technique that allowed vampires to heal when dealt damage.
"... I am not normal, that I know. So, let me use this abnormality to save your life!"
What do you think of this first part of the next chapter?
[5/28, 9:51 PM] Emmanuel: Levi's figure arrived at an abrupt halt as he gazed back at the little boy, who seemed to be utilizing blood magic to try and save his unfortunate mother.
An ominous glint appeared in his eyes as he turned back, his interest piqued once more.
His voice was as hoarse as before, its weight sinking deep into the hearts of them all.
"Brat, are you actually capable of using that skill?" He asked, drowning into a fit of laughter soon after. "Who would've thought i'd encounter a young mutant on a day like this? This must certainly be fate!"
His movements were garnered by terrifying speed, covering the distance between himself and the young vampire.
His figure looked above Raphael like the silhouette of an ominous spire, crimson red eyes piercing his soul with crude desire.
Raphael paid no attention to Levi's presence, pouring all his attention on his dying mother.
'No... No... No... If... If you die... who will take care of me? Of us?" He drew out every ounce of his power, the crimson glow surrounding the wound intensifying in response. 'You have always been the one holding this family together. Without you, we won't last long...'
Levi stretched gis hand, grabbing hold of the little boy, before forcefully prying his hands away from his mother.
"Hey, brat. Did you not hear what i said? I said that it was faith that we met, you idiot!" Levi spat, his grin unwavering.
Raphael glared furiously at the towering figure, his crimson eyes narrowed as a cacophony of prickly curses cascaded down the isles of his desperate mind.
"Let go of me!!!" He swung his hand, a curved, crimson line of energy escaping his hand, quickly rushing to slash through his obstacle.
However, as the attack connected, it was incapable of even leaving a scratch on the tall vampire.
'Damn... I used almost all my power on healing mum... I can't protect myself...' his heart sank as fury gave way for worry. 'What's he going to do with me?'
Seeing the feeble attack that was launched, Levi's eyes twitched, his lips parted as he said:
"How pathetic. You spent all your power trying to save that dying woman, and now, your powerless. You're at my mercy. Well, either way, you would have still been nothing to me," his hand pressed tightly against Raphael's, swinging them forward right after.
Raphael's body collided heavily with the floor, teeth and bone piercing through flesh. Blood poured generously from his accumulating wounds, indescribable pain assaulted every region of his being.
High-pitched screams flooded the pungent space, drawing everyone's attention forcefully to the locus of brutality. Darion's gaze pierced through the darkness, observing the dreadful punishment his brother was receiving.
His hands gripped his little brother's tightly, a single, repetitive string of words escaping his lips.
"It's going to be okay."
His mind was bathed in elevating shock, his body an oasis for acrid sweat.
His eyes shifted between Raphael and his father, who's position insinuated at a darker sense of turmoil munching on his imaginations.
Then, they fell on the figure of his bloodied mother.
He raised one of his hands from his brothers, gripped his hair tightly, and pulled.
He pulled untill a trail of blood swivelled down his head, a patch of hair clasped tightly in his hand.
'This... No... This is hell... This can't be happening...'
The darkness curled and shifted, accumulating into a single gargantuan figure. His length was eerily imposing, towering all the way through crimson skies, staring down at the lost old man with a mixed expression of delight, malice, and deeply buried shame.
The giants face shifty continuously, several voices articulating at once, drawing Gordon's consciousness further away from the flakes of sanity.