2 | Ghoul on the Loose

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Amadeo Leandro to represent Kain


I SWEAR, IF NO ONE READS THIS, I'M GONNA FUABFHABFYAHB

I'M PUTTING ANOTHER A/N JUST IN CASE. This is the old book version, which is still set in modern times. The newest version is found on my Tapas page (link in my bio), which is now set in the 19th century (1895).

That's all. You can read the chapter now *angelic smile*

***

The enormous demonic creature revealed its teeth like a trophy of rusted blades, and bat-like wings cloaked in cruel blue veins protruded from its back. King threatened to throw up at the foul stench that blew out, not only from its mouth but from its whole body, like a sewer full of rotting bodies. He had never seen a bloodsucker, but drawing out the indicators, he had already guessed that this is a vampire. Or at least he thought.

The fiend reached its bony, dirty clawed hand on a cracked opening in the windshield. King gasped, and he tried to scramble away, holding his painfully throbbing side in the process. But the car didn't offer much space in its current condition.

Then a bloodcurdling scream tore out of the boy's throat when claws dug onto his calf's flesh, nails deeply etching into his muscles. He gritted his teeth, holding back from crying on the top of his lungs. To worsen it, the creature stirred its hand, dragging its claws, and King howled more in pain. He trembled, feeling like his left leg was getting torn. And it was.

Bryce jumped in and tried to pry its grip off, grunting as he did. But it was tight as a screw. With an aching body as well, Pandora immediately reached for something, anything, and ended up with a shard of glass. She raised her hands and, wham, dug it repeatedly into the rugged skin of the vampire, embedding the sharp object against her palm at the same time.

A sharp inhumane shriek vibrated out of the vampire's throat, and it drew back its hand, madly rattling the car as it withdrew its arm out. 

There was blood, the color of burnt orange, that coated the tips of the broken glass Pandora was firmly holding on. She hurried to King's side and held his leg to examine it. Wrong move, she pulled too hard, and the latter screeched in pain. 

"I'm sorry," Pandora uttered, worry in her voice. She pulled back her hands when she saw enough of the torn skin.

"Damn it. It got my leg," King heavily breathed out. Cold sweat formed on his skin, and he swallowed the knot on his throat. He was lucky he was a werecat. For a human, the consequences would have been grave. "Your hand."

"It's nothing. We gotta move."

Before they could, the vampire stood on its robust alabaster-grey legs in the distance, pointed ears drawn back and raucously heaving as it licked the wound on its arm. There was a hint of satisfaction as it lapped on it. Then its entirely black eyes turned back towards the three, its teeth bared, face creasing into a menacing sneer. It screamed, inhumanely sending a strong gust of wind at them.

The cousins shielded their faces with their arms when the wind that dragged pieces of broken glass, dust, and dirt blasted at them. When it stopped, their eyes trailed back to the creature. Their lips parted and their eyes slowly bulged when the vampire's bone-etched chest puffed in and out, its wings pulling out. And then, whoosh! It rocketed full force towards them.

King's heart nearly jumped out of his throat.

"Oh, shi—!" Bryce choked. Then the car flipped again. This time, they were ready to scream. And they did.

The car spun, grating in on the asphalt road before it fell from a nearby slope and crashed into a tree. King regretted unbuckling his belt. He felt swelled up, hammered in all sides, aching and burning from a painful fire that wrapped his body, especially his leg, which was hanging semi-numb and in pain. He strained his neck to look down at his feet, just realizing that his favorite ripped-jeans was now literally ripped.

King's adrenaline pumped again when he heard the same rustling closed in on their direction again, and he strained his ears, listening to the acquainted grunts getting closer. Suddenly, razor claws pierced through the metal roof, barely grazing Bryce's right cheek. Bryce and King screamed. 

The vampire sliced through the roof, rocking the crippled car as it ripped it open like a can of corn beef. It peeked from the slit, black eyes sneering down at them. Yellowish drool, thick and sluggish, dripped from the edge of its mouth.

Then King heard a different growl against the vampire's shriek—deeper, more rooted, and violent—and a wave of static rushed all over his body. The vampire's head snapped to its left before it was punched right on its jaw. The car violently rocked from the impact.

"Ah!" Bryce yelled as the spittle that smelled like crap plopped on his cheek. He immediately wiped the saliva that smelled like crap.

After a split-moment, brutal growls and inhumane shrieks followed. King dragged his head towards where it was coming from, and his eyes widened when he saw it — a silver werewolf. If it weren't for those razor-sharp teeth, claws, and the burly profile, King would have wanted to touch that fuzz.

The werewolf stood on its hind legs, towering and snarling as it inched and looked down at the undead, who was hunched down on the ground. The vampire's gaze darted up, face scrunching into a scowl. Its wings slowly expanded out, aggressive eyes fixated on the other. The pale lips curled up, and a high pitched scream vibrated out of its throat. The werewolf bellowed in reply, and it raced towards the vampire, bodyslamming it before the latter was able to stand up.  

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