CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE FIGHTING FOR MY HUMANS

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I bite down like an animal, not trying only suck him dry but taking a chunk of meat as well, my hand holding his head off my own neck and shoulder.

I got a couple of good big gulps down before he manages to lose my grip of him, jumping back as I do the same, putting some distance between us, his vital nectar painting my mouth in red until it dripped off my chin.

More annoyed then really worried Saguine hisses at me, unaware that his hold over Dylan was fading, though he couldn't move because of the ghoul beside him.

Then, suddenly, all emotion faded from Saguine's as if a veil fell down over his features, a cold mask in place as he stood tall and straight in an inhuman way of standing, too still and straight like a statue.

His unnatural features weren't a surprise for me; what to expect of a creature that embraces the night to the point of changing his name, of leaving his eyes permanently red, of not bothering to breathe, to react, to even forget, sometimes, to blink? I remember he only acted a little more "alive" to the newborns as to not scare them away.

He wasn't blinking now as he carefreely passed his gloved fingers over the wound and licked the blood off of his hand.

He deeply sighs, saying: "Seems like you still need to learn respect, you still need to embrace what you are... But do not fret, I'm patient, a few hundreds of years should be sufficient."

A cold fear twists my abdomen at the perspective of being locked beside him for years to no end; until I was tamed, molded the way he wanted me to be.

It made me want to puke. No parent had that right, not even him, especially after all he has done to me, ignoring me, playing with me like a doll, tossing me wherever he pleased.

Not this time.

I raise my sword, the tip shining with the dim light coming from the windows behind him.

"I would rather die than be your plaything ever again."

"Yes, I know, you have always been the rebel kind, but don't worry, I know how to deal with you." He then stares me down, two pools of blood locking with me gaze with so much intensity that I almost looked away. "You-will-come-back-home."

The takes a sword of his own out, a saber with an intrigued pattern on the handle, like a tornado of bent metal, and points at me, positioning himself with an arm on the back.

I dash forward clashing swords with him, our speed matching each other to the point of inhuman speed, flashes of metal passing quicker than the sound as two undead tireless creatures fought.

This would only end with experience and luck, no difference time would make as none of us got tired.

Unfortunately I was not surprised that my every attack met with a block, dodge, as none hit the flesh. How one competes against their master? Against an old vampire? On the contrary of most creatures, vampires grow stronger and stronger as time passes by.

But at least I knew how he fought, he taught me after all, but what he did not know is that I trained in a specific way to counter him, I just needed the right moment to use my secret weapon.

Hopefully it would be enough.

With one hand on his back he kept moving his sword like a snake, with dexterity and precision, not wasting any movements as our battle kept being a draw.

I concisely kept my movement the way he knew and trained me, making me predictable; but not too much as it would draw his attention; and once I see his eyes move to my side, ready to strike, I use my secret weapon, pulling it out from my back under my shirt.

Surviving the apocalypse as a vampire! (mxmxm) BLDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora