Blood and Corruption
The vampire’s eyes flashed like rubies in the dark as a cold wind swept through the entombment chamber, rattling the bones of the fallen.

Ezra stood still with his eyes glued to the ancient bloodsucker, his warm finger on the cold trigger and his steady feet ready to engage in the dance of death.

“I have lived for three hundred years, but never in all my life have I met a man foolish enough to face me all by himself,” the vampire chuckled, his fangs glistening in the pale light. “I am Elbanir Razavic, the last Elder Vampire to walk these lands, the one your people remember as the Red Death.”

“I can’t say it rings any bells. All I know is that you have what I want; and I’ll need to kill you for it,” Ezra responded.

Hearing Ezra’s bold claim, the vampire gawked at his audacity. “Do you really think a Gunner like you can match the powers of an Elder Vampire?” His voice boomed in the empty room as he stared fixedly at Ezra.

“I am not just any Gunner,” Ezra retorted. “It’s nothing persona
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