Music
The vampiric vigilante would toss and turn in bed, fingers clawing right through the mattress and ripping out the springs with a feat of inhuman strength. Mind was in a haze as those faces flickered through his mind, again and again. A vicious snarl escaped him as he clutched at the uncoiling metal with enough force to have it piercing into his hands, as if it were actually barbed wire zip ties to fasten him into place to ride out the wave of blood lust....feeling overcome by a hunger he hadn't known in many years.
The strange man's words were inaudible in the moment. The stage...the applause...the bright lights of cameras flashing, dimmed by those red sunglasses as he observed from the back of the crowded room. No....it was more as if he were in some sort of trance....some kind of hallucination. Everything was vivid, but still so distant and unreal. The man left his podium, along with his wife, and their security detail. Even above the din of applause and chatter, he could make out their footfalls, pounding in his head with those gentle thumps....like the beating of a heart.
Next thing he knew, he was there, with an eagle eyed view of the couple getting into the luxury car, door being held open. And then....he was below. The cries of panic from the guards rushing to push the pair into their car. He could see his own hands, moving on pure instinct and muscle memory. No guns this time, just bare fists striking out at the first who approached him....an open palm strike shattering a collarbone, then a second one to the bridge of the nose, sending splinters of bone fragments into the brain. Moving faster than his prey could perceive, but to Dain himself...everything was happening in slow motion.
And then he was on the hood of the vehicle with one accelerated sprint, feet allowing him to move parallel along a wall, into an aerial cartwheel that ended with another guard having his trachea crushed with a brutal kick, body flying back into a garbage can, though the clattering of flesh hitting metal was little more than a ringing in his ears. The vehicle tried to accelerate away from him, but it was already too late, as he moved forward along the roof of the car, fist smashing through windshield into the forehead of the driver, causing the wheel to jerk to the left and crash into the wall of the parking structure they were trying to flee from.
That sound of that heartbeat accelerated rapidly now in his ears. A sound of panic and horrors. Muffled cries and screaming. Everything was still in slow motion as his feet carried him back along the roof of the car, before slamming an elbow down through the sunroof. Hand would grab the man who had been getting that applause by the neck, pulling him up halfway out of the car through the broken roof. Now the heart was going so rapidly that there was no longer even that brief silence between each thump.....almost sounding like a drumroll.
Words, begging and pleading, gasping of breath and terror...all ran right through him. A hand would strike forward into the chest, obliterating the sternum from brute force. A longer draw of the arm, this time going fingertips first instead of a closed fist drew that warm and wet sensation as the hand pierced through flesh and between the shattered ribs. One last time, the hand was drawn back, and then forward, to close around that beating drum, squeezing to make it still. Life flickered from the eyes of that face that had been burned into his mind, more of that crimson color spilling from the corners of his mouth.
And then....nothingness. Dain was back in his room, coming to once again. Had the whole thing been some sort of twisted nightmare? It had to be. He hadn't left from this particular safe house since his last 'mission'. A growl of pain escaped him as he tore his hands free from the mattress springs, watching the wounds rapidly clotting and then healing over as he sat up. It had....just been his imagination. Residual psychic trauma from encountering her again.
He'd reach over to fetch his cigarettes, sparking up his lighter....only to have it fall right from his fingers. In the flicker of flame he saw the trail of blood, coming through the front door and leading into the shower.
What the hell had he done?
The vampiric vigilante would toss and turn in bed, fingers clawing right through the mattress and ripping out the springs with a feat of inhuman strength. Mind was in a haze as those faces flickered through his mind, again and again. A vicious snarl escaped him as he clutched at the uncoiling metal with enough force to have it piercing into his hands, as if it were actually barbed wire zip ties to fasten him into place to ride out the wave of blood lust....feeling overcome by a hunger he hadn't known in many years.
The strange man's words were inaudible in the moment. The stage...the applause...the bright lights of cameras flashing, dimmed by those red sunglasses as he observed from the back of the crowded room. No....it was more as if he were in some sort of trance....some kind of hallucination. Everything was vivid, but still so distant and unreal. The man left his podium, along with his wife, and their security detail. Even above the din of applause and chatter, he could make out their footfalls, pounding in his head with those gentle thumps....like the beating of a heart.
Next thing he knew, he was there, with an eagle eyed view of the couple getting into the luxury car, door being held open. And then....he was below. The cries of panic from the guards rushing to push the pair into their car. He could see his own hands, moving on pure instinct and muscle memory. No guns this time, just bare fists striking out at the first who approached him....an open palm strike shattering a collarbone, then a second one to the bridge of the nose, sending splinters of bone fragments into the brain. Moving faster than his prey could perceive, but to Dain himself...everything was happening in slow motion.
And then he was on the hood of the vehicle with one accelerated sprint, feet allowing him to move parallel along a wall, into an aerial cartwheel that ended with another guard having his trachea crushed with a brutal kick, body flying back into a garbage can, though the clattering of flesh hitting metal was little more than a ringing in his ears. The vehicle tried to accelerate away from him, but it was already too late, as he moved forward along the roof of the car, fist smashing through windshield into the forehead of the driver, causing the wheel to jerk to the left and crash into the wall of the parking structure they were trying to flee from.
That sound of that heartbeat accelerated rapidly now in his ears. A sound of panic and horrors. Muffled cries and screaming. Everything was still in slow motion as his feet carried him back along the roof of the car, before slamming an elbow down through the sunroof. Hand would grab the man who had been getting that applause by the neck, pulling him up halfway out of the car through the broken roof. Now the heart was going so rapidly that there was no longer even that brief silence between each thump.....almost sounding like a drumroll.
Words, begging and pleading, gasping of breath and terror...all ran right through him. A hand would strike forward into the chest, obliterating the sternum from brute force. A longer draw of the arm, this time going fingertips first instead of a closed fist drew that warm and wet sensation as the hand pierced through flesh and between the shattered ribs. One last time, the hand was drawn back, and then forward, to close around that beating drum, squeezing to make it still. Life flickered from the eyes of that face that had been burned into his mind, more of that crimson color spilling from the corners of his mouth.
And then....nothingness. Dain was back in his room, coming to once again. Had the whole thing been some sort of twisted nightmare? It had to be. He hadn't left from this particular safe house since his last 'mission'. A growl of pain escaped him as he tore his hands free from the mattress springs, watching the wounds rapidly clotting and then healing over as he sat up. It had....just been his imagination. Residual psychic trauma from encountering her again.
He'd reach over to fetch his cigarettes, sparking up his lighter....only to have it fall right from his fingers. In the flicker of flame he saw the trail of blood, coming through the front door and leading into the shower.
What the hell had he done?
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