Eve of Terra

Part 7 'Existing'

Reminded that I had never yielded to cowardice, I clasped the side of my cloak, making a shell for my knuckle. I might not stand a chance if Kael turned out crazy or worst, my perception had fooled me for another who resembled him. But the very least I wouldn't go down without a fight.

Robust steps stomped towards me, cracking the surface of waste lying around. I counted each one, and on three, he reached the estimated arm length. Balling my fist, I punched. But before it touched his face, he caught my hand, choosing to use the flesh instead of the metal one which glistened under the light. It was him!

"I advise you target somewhere else. My face is off-limit. The last one who did this" —angling his cheek where the scar resided— "didn't end up pretty." He dismissed my failed attack without any counter, smirking with a look of amusement.

I took the chance to bring my knees to his crotch. The surprise strike made him grimace, yet no single flinch. A heavy sigh fled from his mouth, running from the scene of fear I still refused to acknowledge.

"Why are you attacking me again?" He asked sternly, flicking one brow up.

While looking at his victim, my words were stuck. I contemplated, should I call him out bloody murderer and willed the possible outcome? Yet, it seemed he got my answer without my saying.

After a slight hum, he uttered. "Oh, her."

"You... You were sucking her blood, You kill-" I sputtered. Although the lady wasn't nice to me, nor to anybody I had seen at the bar, it wouldn't justify Kael's act. Was it even humane?

His laugh bounced off the walls of the deserted alley. "I'm a vampire, how else should I do it?"

For a moment, I engaged in his titter, surged by disbelieving and ridicule. What kind of fool was I to him? But the diversion took only a serious look from him to pass. Out of a sudden, the enclosing felt chilly.

"Demons are not real," I reprimanded the chasm of fact and fantasy. Alas, the stench and liquid dripping down Kael's lips were siding with one. The so-called thruster under my chest was pounding on Newton's third law levelling a drum.

"They're not." He smiled smugly. While wiping his mouth, he closed in on me. His speed was unmatched for me to evade; reminding his unusual trait. Under a blink I failed to make, he reached the wall, trapping me. "What do you think? Am I an imagination?" He rasped to my ear. The visible heat grazing my neck compelled his point of reality.

Yet I was sensible to keep denying. "Maybe- Maybe I'm still strapped somewhere sleeping. Under coma."

"Look again." His green eyes skimmed toward the lady he had just ripped apart. Although her head was not attached to her body anymore, her limbs were still slinking. In my believed facts, anything alive wouldn't last that long after decapitated, even nerve stimuli. The gruesome validity on my part after experiencing near expire was supporting the subject.

I shook my head. "No. I must be imagining things."

He moved his face closer to mine, making me stiff. I heaved but put a calm facade. Furthermore, if he wanted to harm me, he would've done it already.

Shining emeralds demanded my vigilance, its spark of hues combust under the piercing gaze. "I'm real, " he voiced, transmitting tantalising sensation to my spine. "Vampires are just galactic exiles, taking refuge on earth. Their molecules couldn't maintain under gravity, so they host human bodies. Eventually, they bred with human and walla, immortal, the undead, mumbo-jumbo whatever you want to call it sh*t."

"Vampire are aliens?"

"Bingo! And here I am... Your prince of the night. " He stepped back, palm to his chest as he made a somewhat charming bow. "The one but not the only."