Death is My BFFLAD Rewritten (Book 2 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 49: Friend or Enemy

Malphas held up a hand, and stop we did.

"At least seven," Death said, as if answering a question Malphas hadn't asked.

Malphas turned his head over his shoulder and nodded to Death.

Death stalked forward as if he were a killer summoned and shifted into predator mode. He slid two swords out from sheaths at his back, his powerful muscles tensed as he slinked past Malphas and glided into the shadows. He pressed up against the wall besides an archway, his brilliant mismatched green eyes the only indication that he was there, before he closed them, and blended perfectly against the dark like an assassin in the night.

Two vampires rounded the hallway, rowdily arguing about something involving an 'Edward' and 'Jacob.'

By the time they spotted Malphas and I, Death's skilled hands were already twisting each blade around his fingers in a mirrored motion, his arms coming down fast and hard to flawlessly severed each vampire by the neck.

Another vampire launched out from behind him, when Death spun his one blade backwards in his palm and brought his arm upwards, stabbing the vampire through the throat. Death turned toward the creature and ripped the blade through the rest of the tendons of the newborn's neck, its head dropping amongst the growing pile.

"Adequate," Malphas commented.

Death tilted his head, his lip lifting in a snarl. "Adequate?"

Shadows collected from the darkest corners of the room, crawling toward Death like creatures on all fours as the white and green of his eyes consumed with a villain black. Darkness curled up his frame and formed an aura around his frame.

Death dropped his swords and pivoted, sprinting toward the entryway and launching himself at four more vampires that had just reached the scene. His talons lashed out, slicing through an enemy's torso. When his fist drove through the chest of another, he walked forward with the vampire in his clutches and stalked somewhere out of our view. Screams were heard. Some sort of chunk of flesh or an organ flew across the archway and smacked a vampire right in the face.

The two leftover vampires came sprinting through the archway toward Malphas and I, as if they were running away from the massive T-Rex in Jurassic Park. They were mangled, covered in blood, grabbing at injured body parts. Death gripped the archway from behind them and swung back into the hallway, landing on both of the vampires before they could reach us with his fangs bared. He crushed the back of their skulls into the ground with his bare hands.

When Death collected his fallen swords and rose to his full height, he flipped a strand of curly wavy black hair from his forehead that had escaped and stared icily at his father. Malphas "hmm'd" and strolled past his son without a word.

Once his father was out of sight, Death waggled his eyebrows at me, communicating the successful vanquishing of Malphas' criticism.

Shaking my head in distain, I stepped over a detached head. "Can't you at least try and act like you didn't tremendously enjoy that murdering spree?"

Moments later, Death and I reunited with Malphas, as the passageway opened up to a wider space with high ceilings. My eyes widened as I took in our surroundings. Shapes like pentagrams and hexagrams with symbols and languages I didn't understand covered almost every surface. The air was thicker in here, electric, in a way that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. Like rubbing a balloon vigorously against your skin and creating static, except the source of this static was undefined. It was an eerie sensation that clung to me from all directions, like the walls had eyes.

"This room is giving me the heebie jeebies," I said, pulling at the collar of my jacket as my anxiety spiked. "Is it hard to breathe, or is it just me?"