RISE OF AN ORIGINAL

BLOODSHED

The night was dark, with only the distant glimmer of city lights and the faint brightness of the moon to break it up. Adrian and Lucas proceeded through Nexus Heights' labyrinthine streets, their goal propelling them ahead despite the unsettling silence that surrounded them.

Lucas's voice shattered the silence as they strolled side by side. "You know, Adrian, no matter what the world thinks of you, I've always believed you're not the monster they claim you to be."

Adrian's eyes were fixed forward, and his only acknowledgement was a modest gesture of gratitude. “You've

always

been loyal, and I've never questioned that,"

he

replied, his voice tinged with gratitude. "I’m glad to have someone like you around me."

"Don't you think it's possible to change people's perceptions of you? Take, for instance, the time you saved my life when I was on the brink of death,

despite not

knowing anything about me. You can't imagine how much that second chance meant to me. I'm deeply grateful.

I'll use it to not only protect you but also to help change how others see you until the very end," Lucas remarked.

Adrian

couldn't help but smile. This outpouring of emotion was

uncommon for him.

He

looked at him

and said, “Are you planning on leaving or something? You seem pretty emotional tonight.”

Lucas

gazed

at

him. “Nope,

I’m not leaving.

I just thought

that you

should know how grateful I am to you.”

As they went down the deserted street, their conversation continued. Adrian took out his phone and peered at it briefly, verifying they were on the right path to meet the witch who would help them find the phoenix feather.

Lucas's interest in the witch intensified. "Aside from the location, do you have any other information about her? "What about a photo or something?"

Adrian drew his brow in thinking. "I'm afraid, not much. Roger merely gave me her name, Elara,

and the location

to meet."

Finally,

they

arrived at the cemetery, known as a haven for witches and a place where powerful spells and rituals connected them to their ancestors. They both stood at the entrance.

“We are supernaturals. We can't enter unless invited by a witch; there's a boundary spell guarding the cemetery," Lucas explained.

Adrian came to a halt. “Oh, I

didn’t realise that. Well, I guess we'll wait here

for her to pick us up.”

Lucas mumbled, “Be aware of the boundary spell; she should have waited here for us."

They

felt a subtle change in the atmosphere as they waited, a shift that carried with it a sense of

suspicion.

Lucas gripped the hilt of the dagger concealed beneath his coat. “Do you feel that, Adrian?”

He

nodded, his senses on high alert. “Someone’s

coming over here."

Behind them, hunters emerged, armed with various weapons.

They turned around in surprise, their eyes locking.

The hunters stopped a few metres away as their leader stepped forward. "I can’t believe my eyes, Adrian. It is really you," he said with an awkward laugh.

Adrian chuckled. “Yeah, it's really me. I thought I had killed you back then. How come you're standing before me, Darian?”

Darian laughed. “Shocked, right?”

“Yes, but I’m glad I left a scar on you, though,”

he

responded, his voice taking on a deadly tone. “I will make sure you don’t survive this time around.”

Darian's laughter echoed strangely in the

silent space. His eyes twinkled with an unpleasant mix of amusement and hatred. "Oh, Adrian, I've learned a few things since our previous meeting. I've grown stronger, just like you," he said, his tone confident.

Adrian's posture adjusted as he braced himself for what appeared to be an impending disaster. "Your scars serve as a reminder of what I'm capable of. Darian, I suggest you reconsider this

confrontation."

Lucas stood beside

him, poised with his dagger, ready to defend his long-time friend. Despite the strain in the air, he remained composed, his commitment unshakable.

Darian's expression hardened. “There's no turning back now. I've waited a long time for this moment. You may have escaped me once, but not this time.”

Darian beckoned to his

men, and they raced forward, weapons drawn. Adrian and Lucas confronted the impending struggle with steadfast determination.

They were

pushed by their incredible speed and blurred into action before the hunters could respond. It was a display of pure strength and agility as they dodged gunfire and moved closer to their attackers.

Adrian's motions were both beautiful and deadly. He moved in and out of the hunters, landing precise claw strikes and kicks. His power was unrivalled, and he dispatched them with ruthless efficiency.

Lucas, on the other hand, walked with grace and ferocity. His dagger grew into an extension of himself, a terrible weapon of devastation. He circled his opponents, delivering accurate hits that rendered them unconscious.

Despite their

outnumbered disadvantage, Adrian and Lucas battled as an organised unit. Their actions flawlessly matched each other, transforming the battlefield into a flurry of action.

Darian stood there, frustrated, watching his hunters struggle to keep up with the fearsome duo. Adrian recognized an opening amidst the chaos, his sharp senses zeroing in on a certain hunter who was temporarily disoriented. He pounced at the hunter, his fangs bared, in a fast and predatory gesture.

He

sank his fangs into the hunter's neck, swiftly draining him of his blood. It was a visceral display of his vampire side, a reminder to Darian and his hunters of the dark power within him. The hunter's life force coursed through him and replenished

his energy and strength.

Darian, witnessing this display, grew even more determined. He aimed his weapon at Adrian, finger on the trigger, intent on putting an end to this supernatural clash.

Before

he

could pull the trigger, Lucas, in a lightning-fast move, hurled his dagger with deadly accuracy. The blade sliced through the air and struck Darian's weapon, knocking it from his hand.

He cursed beneath his breath, his attempt for the time being thwarted. With an outraged shout, he surged at Adrian, the combat approaching a fever pitch.

They engaged in a heated hand-to-hand battle. Darian initially struggled to match Adrian's sheer physical prowess. Adrian's blows were inhumanly powerful, seemingly impossible for a person to withstand.

Meanwhile, Lucas dealt with the remaining hunters, his fangs and claws moving with lethal elegance. The hunters fell victim to his merciless bombardment, one by one.

As Adrian and Darian fought, Darian managed to land a lucky strike, catching Adrian off guard. It was only a little edge, but it was enough to knock Adrian back.

Darian pressed his attack, sensing a hint of hope, but Adrian immediately regained his composure. Adrian delivered a deadly counterattack with a burst of supernatural strength, knocking Darian out with a single, tremendous strike.

Adrian leaned over Darian, his chest heaving from effort. He fastened his gaze on Darian, a terrifying smirk on his lips. "You should have stopped when you had the chance," he said, "but now it's too late."

Darian pleaded for his life, but Adrian was untouched, cutting his head with his claws in an instant. "Fetch me his head, Lucas," Adrian said.

Curiosity filled Lucas's voice as he picked up the rolling head. "What do you plan to do with it?"

"I'll

take

it to Rylan, a grim reminder of his brother's demise,

and he should learn from it." Adrian laughed darkly. He couldn't help but think about Rylan's reaction when he

saw the

head.