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Rated: 13+ · Prose · Gothic · #1051876
A short picture from a longer work in progress
Burning drops of rain fell atop the head of a young woman as she sprinted down the back alley behind several apartment and business complexes. Night was never truly night in the city of Alexandreta, the constant noise and light pollution made sure of that. Yet it’s inhabitants cared little weather it was light or dark out, continuing about their lives. Yet in this whether, very few people were out—mostly just the homeless and the insane. The girl turned down another alley, hunting down her prey. This alley led to a brick wall. To all appearances, he may have escaped, yet she knew better. She stood placidly, her wet hair dripping about her face. She blew absently at the lone blond strand that fell in frount of her wet face, standing out from the rest of her ruddy brown hair.

She heard something fall quietly behind her. She did not move. ‘You know we call you the Angel Slayer.’ A male voice spoke coolly, almost hypnotically.

Nodding, she breathed in the wet night air, catching his smell on the breeze—of dried blood and death. Chuckling a little to herself, she gave a small wicked smile. ‘You and your kind are all the same—and you all shall be sent from whence your curse came.’ She could feel him breathing on her neck, as she slowly put her hand to her side. A streak of silver flashed in the dark as the Vampire screeched. He jumped back, hissing and swearing at her under his breath. Dark red blood flowed from a gash which ran across his side. ‘I am not the Slayer of Angels as you have been told. I am the Angel who Slays in the name of God.’

In anger and pure hatred, the Vampire threw himself at her, his nails growing out toward her. In moments, a second blade was in her hand—a sliver knife. Slashing at the nails, she plunged her katana toward her opponent. It missed, but she had managed to cut nails, smoke streaming from the bloody fingers. Fury shining in his dark green eyes, he shot up once again, this time his fangs wide open toward her, aiming for her neck. Sliver sparked and slid through. A body fell, hitting the wet duracreate. Blood flowed from it, mingling in the puddles of rain water reflected in the dim city lights. The Vampire lay, sliver blade through his heart, ruby glistening from his corpse.
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