His cape flowing in the gloom, the fog reaching deep into the vast city, past the pale sickly light pouring from the moth-graced lanterns as he watches with eyes aglow with an inner fire, watching for a sign in the darkness of a fog-drenched night, a sign of the blasphemy that should not be present in such a deep, discordant gloom.
He watches for life.
As he stood there, contemplating the glistening face of the moon as her slow, weary ascent sent streams of tears trailing behind her, cars sometimes passed, always they passed with due haste when they saw the figure clad in jet-black robes, his form more of a shadow than the shadow that writhed beneath him.
His fingers ended in talons with the cold glint of steel and his pale skin almost seemed to glow in the gentle hum of night, yet despite the pale glimmer of the moon and her distant relatives, the stars sparkling in the firmament, the artificial glimmer of the lamps all about the vast city with its networks of well lit bridges and skyscrapers crossing over and beholding a vast stretch of river quickly stole the light of the firmament, reducing all to darkness as false light battle with twilight to deepen the darkness.
and the fog devoured the rest.
He watched, and waited as the victim came to him, a woman leaving from work, fearless and with a grim visage and a resolve to defeat all who stood in her path.
Such sacrilege could not be suffered, for the night was a time of death, and darkness, and cold. the light of the celestial reaches was meant to bless the night and those kin to the night, yet this woman carried the heat of one who lived in the day and one who trespassed in the gloom.
she stopped before him, having only just noticed him and she returned his stare with one of her own, as though daring him to harm her.
He made no moves against her, instead waiting patiently for the inevitable, the inevitable always happened.
there were two kinds of human in the night, those kin to day, with pretenses of hopes and dreams, and those who embraced the night in all its glory, who hid their liberties in darkness and became dark themselves.
as if on cue, a thief appeared from behind a nearby tree in the parking lot near the street they were on, a weapon in his hand.
he knew already that the weapon wasn't loaded, the man was too poor and frail to afford even that, a bluff to hide his desperation.
"give me your money!" he roared hungrily, his eyes glinting in the false light of the nearby street lamp and she saw the gun and cowered.
"How rude." he said, and the figure turned to face the thief. "I was just about to have a nice chat with this lady and you come here with an unloaded pistol to threaten her?"
"And who the fuck are you?" he asked angrily, brandishing the impotent weapon. "this thing's loaded! I ain't messing aro-" with a swipe of his clawed hand he cut the man's throat with his razor sharp talons and slowly his gaze turned to the woman, hellish coals peering forth from the darkness behind his high collar.
"a beautiful night, is it not?" he asked, grinning to reveal two hellishly long fangs, and the woman felt her blood run cold.
The sun rose, and two corpses were discovered by the police early that morning, both drained of blood, a woman's and a man's/ Reports of these facts were suppressed, the police knew of the killer and knew too that there was precious little they could do about him. the "king of the night" as he'd come to be called, had once taken out a swat team without any weapons, he was something no gun, no modern weapon, could possibly defend against, and the police couldn't protect anyone or anything from this enigmatic figure, one who didn't show up on cameras or on footage of any kind, whose image was itself impossible to capture.
the king of the night simply didn't fit into the power paradigm of portland's law and order system, orders in the event that the king was spotted were to shoot on sight in order to distract it from potential victims, but no bullets could kill it.
the king of the night was something nobody could do anything about, they could only suppress proof of his existence and pray the media didn't catch on. if they found out that there was a killer about who could not be killed, the ensuing panic would lead to an assault that would inevitably lead to more casualties than the police were willing to accept.
it was purely a pragmatic decision, the thing was too powerful to be dealt with, there was simply no answer for it, no weapon could kill it, no prison could detain it...it...could not be forced to obey the law, and thus had to exist outside of it.
the most they could do is avoid its usual haunts and find ways to keep people away from areas it frequented in the hopes that somehow, somewhere, the king of the night could be stopped by someone or something.
The next night two officers were reported missing, they'd patrolled the area where the victims had been discovered despite being told to avoid those areas religiously, and when the bodies were recovered, there was precious little remaining to identify as human.
One evening the chief of police received a call from a nearby parking lot, they sometimes got calls like this, where a homeless person wandered into the lot and began breaking into vehicles or was causing trouble, but the person on the other end of the line was panting and gasping as though injured.
"Hello? this is chief jansen speaking, who is this?"
"Jim.....jim lathenger..." the voice rasped. "i....fought...something....it looked like....a...a..man...god.....i'm hurt bad....it's.....it's in bad shape too though....it attacked me while i was patrolling...looks like a guy...but his eyes....his eyes are....like fire...he's down right now...unconscious....i.....fucking hell i might be dying..." a rather wet cough resounded from the phone and he rasped out "Officer.....I.....would...advise against....sending any police...to this lot." he said after an abrupt moment of silence.
"why?" jansen asked, already motioning for the two in the room to listen while he put him on speakerphone.
"the thing...the....god whatever it was...it just disappeared....its body is gone....meaning whatever i did to it...it recovered..."
"what weapons did you use?" the chief demanded. "what did you defend yourself with?"
"defend? I.....god that's complicated...i'm a berserker.....i.....my....adrenaline can....overload and cause my strength to double...i just...flew into a....mad rage and threw him around...broke his arms and legs...but i'm coming down from the high....i'm certain i'll be dead by the time you find me...." another wet cough issued forth and some dripping sounds followed.
"fuck, coughing up my own insides it seems, ha...haha.....oh god it hurts to laugh....anyway....just....send....send someone near the sight..but not...directly to it..understand? whatever that thing was it went.....head to head with me while i was berserk....no normal man could do that....play....play it car.......caref...." the sound of clattering could be heard and his labored breathing rasped out.
"Station....place..." he managed to gasp. "Near station....place garage...."
jansen nodded and snapped his fingers. "get some guys over there, if you can save him, fucking do it, am i clear?!"
they nodded and rushed off to dispatch a small swat team.
Jim remained quiet in the booth he'd been sent to work in, he could tell that the fiend was still out there, crippled, hungry, and desperate. as a berserker he had access to a unique trait where he could overdose on his own adrenaline without immediate negative consequences, this gave an immeasurable boost to his strength that allowed for unbelievable feats of strength, including a momentary resistance to mortal wounds, momentary, but nothing more. if he had his heart torn out while in a berserker rage, he'd still be able to fight for five solid minutes though how or why was unknown. he was also usually the shy sort, preferring to avoid people. He enjoyed graveyard shifts specifically because he didn't have to deal with people and their stupidity. he loathed interacting with them, loathed being around them. although he, ironically, liked people, he was averse to them due to having been betrayed and ridiculed more than any boy should in his childhood. his deep-seated mistrust also led to an almost predatory amount of paranoia, preferring to remain on top of any potential threats, he had a habit of overestimating dangerous foes and not giving them the luxury of tasting victory. if he encountered something he couldn't defeat, he'd try to outwit or out-predator it.
and the man in black was something he was going to need to outfox quickly.
when he'd cast a look at his opponent, he'd seen it laying down in a pool of its own blood due to snapping its legs and arms cleanly and smashing its solar plexus, the fact that it was gone meant that it had outright recovered, and was even now hiding and nursing those injuries.
"alright jim, think..." he muttered to himself. "if i were a vampire, what would...."
Heights, it was above, no doubt hiding in the upper floors, meaning if he passed through the garage doors it'd swoop down on him and devour him right then and there, and though his body was in rough shape from slashes and stab wounds, the greater danger was his coming down from the berserk state. berserkers suffered from a problem where their bodies overcharged their adrenaline, this led to an overexertion that taxed the berserker on a cellular level, his body coming down from the high would mean that he'd need rest for two days, or rather, he'd go unconscious right then and there if he came down all the way, which would get him killed.
he clenched his teeth, he needed to get the drop on his foe, needed to bait it out so he could feed on his adrenaline more, the longer he fought it, the better his chances, hiding would cause him to come down
his eyes widened, that's probably what it wanted! it wanted to make him wait to swoop in for an easy kill! or worse, if he did anything in his weakened state he'd fight it with half of his strength as a berserker.
"think gods dammit...think..."
He couldn't buy time, the police likely didn't have a defense against vampires...and if it was sticking to an upper floor then that meant he could potentially draw it out by simply doing the rounds, walking around, being a sitting duck, it alone would cause his adrenaline to pump just enough to give him even a modicum of strength needed to keep the bastard occupied.
Hunting the hunter was the only way to go here, be the bigger beast. it was a dumbassed method, to be sure, but he was up against a predator that wanted an easier kill, one that preferred to avoid fighting.
he had to fight, to push it out of its comfort zone like before.
gritting his teeth, jim lathinger, son of gadot lathinger, an abusive confused drunkard, son of alecia lathinger, a former corrupt officer, and son of a bitch, made the resolution to face this monster despite knowing he would almost certainly die.
he opened the booth but didn't bother to lock it, he stepped out on the first floor, the pale lights of the low ceiling were casting shadows that seemed to shiver, the air was frightfully cold and his breaths came out in raging hot curtains of fog, which spoke volumes of how hot his internal body temperature must be to allow for that.
flexing his hands, he growled and coughed up more blood, he had ten minutes to get enough adrenaline flowing, ten minutes to be scared and stressed enough to prompt an overcharge, and then he had five minutes to mess this abomination up before he lost his mind to the blood rage.
he could sustain a sentient rage only so long as the adrenaline wasn't pushed too far.
Bait it out, its injured, or at the very least, pissed and hungry, lure it out.
he made his way to the elevator and opened it, as he did so he noted that his own reflection in the glass resembled some sort of demon, his eyes had sunken into their sockets and the rings had only grown wider, yet the eyes seemed to glow with an inner light, not like the coals of his foe, but with the fury of a berserker high on his own adrenaline, his face was smeared with blood and his face was tightened as the muscles jerked and spasmed, giving him an almost demonic appearance.
pressing the button he thought to himself "floor 3" averaging out the likely floors under the assumption that the vampire would choose the 2nd floor first, then decide to move to floor three just to play the ambush safe.
he already expected the vampire to flee to the back of the lot at the mere sound of the elevator rising up, or perhaps wait in ambush in front of the doors, which was good for him.
As the elevator doors opened, he quietly moved to the side of the doors and waited, knowing that a reflection wouldn't help him here instead relied on his hearing, even as his pulse thudded against his skull.
the doors opened and the vampire's hand lanced through to find thin air,
after a moment the talons retracted and it stepped into the elevator uneasily, its legs wobbling.
"YOU'RE MINE!!" he roared, and he grabbed it by the hair, normally the king of the night could resist the pull with all of his strength and reverse it, but a berserker was another matter, and he instead went through the glass and fell below.
racing out of the elevator he initiated the next step of his plan, the standoff, he rushed to the top floor, expecting the interruption of a two floor fall would be enough to buy him a minute before the vampire recovered from the shock and ascended the floors seeking him out.
as he made it to the top floor, the pantheon of portland came into view, its skyscrapers and buildings like a magnificent display of stardust, and the moon glimmered brilliantly overhead.
turning back he saw a shadow in the night sky as it reached its ascent and softly landed, unperturbed by the opinions of gravity.
Jim rolled his shoulder and slowly circled around the vampire, who even now offered only a smoldering stare, it didn't move, it didn't pace, it stood there like death itself, simply waiting.
Waiting, waiting for the overload to come down.
"I hope you brought some snacks, this is gonna be a long night." jim said, but the vampire offered him no words, only a gesture.
He knew right then and there approaching it would be suicide, so he wouldn't approach it.
he turned to a car, it was mercifully small, an uber of all things, the average berserker could outright lift a normal car by a few feet, but an uber could be thrown, and with quite a bit of force.
the trade was, that it would break many bones in his body.
rushing to the vehicle as though trying to make a getaway, he congratulated himself when he heard the vampire take the bait.
"you outta snacks pilgrim?" he shouted, grabbing the uber and swinging it around, his overloaded body performing feats quite beyond a normal man as he swung the vehicle around.
the vampire's eyes went wide and its advance halted as the uber came crashing down on its body, and jim heard several important bones crack immediately.
backing away, he felt his back, which confirmed his worst fears, he'd fractured his spine.
he had to end it quickly, roaring to overload his adrenaline, he shrugged off the crippling injuries and rushed to the vampire, still pinned by the uber even as it struggled with an unamused look on its face, a frown showing from beneath its beard as it paused to consider the berserker hovering above it.
jim grabbed it on both sides of its head and pulled, and the head came off without issue.
a look of unamused surprise evident on its features only made him angrier, and he crushed its face against the stone floor of the garage in a fit of rage.
Backing away from the body, he immediately knew he hadn't won, he'd at most bought himself more time. overestimation would save him here, he knew.
without thinking he made for the elevator, and as he pressed the call button, the sound of the uber shifting confirmed his worst fears.
the vampire wasn't just alive, it was recovering.
"five minutes.." he rasped, and coughed up blood.
"five minutes before it regrows its damned head.
it was a guess, he didn't know for sure, but given the condition of its legs when it tried to kill him in the elevator, he assumed that five minutes was the range of its healing factor.
"gosh...healing factors'd be..mighty handy for berserkers.." he lamented.
two minutes later the elevator came down to ground floor and he staggered out of the garage just as the uber came falling down at the front floor to explode in a blast of fire that knocked him back.
the vampire's body fell down to the ground shortly afterward, and slowly it picked itself up, its head slowly reforming on its shoulders, just enough to make it seem more like a fanged abomination more bat than man, a skull in the shape of a bat's with elongated ears and canines like daggers, the eyes were empty sockets and its face was little more than muscle drawn taut over its newly reformed skull.
jim got up and rushed at it, punching it in the chest with all of his might, and the vampire flew back to catch fire in the remains of the truck.
jim immediately lost his mind right then and there, the injuries and adrenaline triggering a full on blood rage, and he leaped into the fire after his foe, soon the police arrived to a scene of two feral demons locked in mortal combat, jim's clothing burning away as he thrashed at the vampire, repeatedly breaking its legs and arms and tearing them off while the vampire's maw tore into his shoulders with abandon.
jim took the mutilated limb and beat its skull in repeatedly, and the cops could only watch as jim overpowered the fiend and proceeded to tear it apart with his bare hands before opening his mouth to tear into it with his teeth, the sense in the man had fled, now he was lost in the madness of a true blood rage, and unless he came down from it right away, the two police would be in far worse danger.
the vampire punched with its newest arm and sent him flying away, and as it approached him, the police open fired on the fiend.
yet bathed in flames and with its limbs and ribs sundered and crushed, the vampire came on, its face fully reforming into a mask of cool rage, racing after the real rival, the berserker that had dared to mutilate it so violently,
jim rose from the ground, his coat aflame and he raced after the vampire only to have it sidestep him and smack him, sending him spinning into the burning uber.
without thinking, he grabbed the hot steel of the uber's burning frame and threw it again, hurling it into the vampire before rushing in and grabbing the frame and using it as a hammer.
over and over he smashed it into the vampire, over and over he ground the king of the night into the dirt, and the king responded by throwing the car away and rushing at him.
pinning him down, the king went for jim's throat, convinced that its victory was at hand, but just as it was about to finish the job, an alarm on jim's shirt went off, and the vampire turned and glared at it before turning to face jim, who was returning to his senses.
"Just...." He coughed up blood, spitting in its face. "According....to.....keikaku." he grabbed the vampire and with the last of his remaining strength hurled it into the skies as high as he could throw it, which for a berserker peaking at its limit, was well above the five story garage.
right into the light of dawn as it came peering over the edge of the mountains to assail the vampire.
the king of the night suddenly understood that it had been deceived, this entire bout was merely a means to buy time.
time enough for the dawn to take over.
falling now and weakened from the sunlight, but hardly seared or burned, the king of the night hit the ground with a sickening thud.
jim rolled away from it, coughing up more blood and falling to his knees.
the vampire cast him a final, exasperated glare, and vanished into a swarm of bats that flew off into the darkness, retreating from the paralyzing touch of the sun and jim spat on the ground and collapsed, fully expecting death's sweet embrace due to the overexertion.
he awoke a few nights later in a hospital bed, and though he wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, he knew he couldn't.
the vampire was no doubt preparing to finish the job.
when the door opened he fully expected it to be the black clad, bearded man with glowing eyes, but instead it was the police chief, jansen.
"O-gak! o-officer..." he rasped weakly.
"Hello jim." jansen began tentatively. "I heard...from my boys that...you managed to beat the vampire down....quite a feat..."
"i didn't win..." he replied.
"No....but you did scare it...i'd wager." he continued.
"No.....I delayed my death." jim rasped. "I'm a berserker...t-kef! t-that's how i went...toe to toe with it...but my body....oh gods....i'm probably gonna be paralyzed for life....i threw a fucking uber at it...i pushed my body way too far....i should be dead."
"doctors told me you'd not make a full recovery." jansen explained, stroking his mustache. "It's a damned shame too, you could've been a great asset to the force, we've been trying to figure out how to fight that thing for a long time now. guns won't work, nothing works. the "king of the night" effectively rules portland and we've no way to fight it...but you? you thrashed it."
"it was a one-time deal." jim explained. "berserkers don't get second chances when they push their bodies too far officer.....we just....die...or live as cripples..."
"I'm sorry son, but i'm gonna have to ask that you not mention the vampire to anyone. we've had to keep it under wraps to reduce casualties..."
"yeah yeah, i figured that something like that wasn't going...unnoticed....i'll keep quiet...one way or the other." jim muttered, shaking his head. "now get out of here. you're in danger."
"Well you're strapped to a bed!" jansen replied with a light hint of amusement in his voice.
"Yeah, the perfect fucking meal." jim replied and jansen went pale and nodding, left.
Hours seemed to pass as he waited for the inevitable, and soon the door to his hospital room opened a second time, and as it opened, jim sighed.
"took you long enough." he grumbled, as the king of the night entered the room, his eyes glowing like hot coals as he glared at his quarry triumphantly.
"Yeah i got nothing." jim said. "No more tricks up my sleeve, no clever plans or one-liners....i'm tired and i'm not gonna live either way. Take your fucking victory you lout....you've earned it."
the vampire slowly crept forward, hands stretching wide as it reached forward, its prey, helpless, bound to a hospital bed.
the perfect meal.
as it knelt down, slowly inhaling to draw in the scent of its prey it opened its mouth wide to reveal rows upon rows of glimmering fangs.
"Enough with the damned theatrics ya perv." jim growled. "you here to kill me or put on an act?"
the king clamped down on his throat and as it did jim muttered "that makes twice now i beat you."
the vampire's eyes went wide as the pencil jim had taken from the lamp stand was jammed into its chest, yet caught up in its feeding it had no way of retracting, even as the wood went straight into its heart.
jim twisted the pencil and promptly bit down on the vampire's throat, determined to take a victory in these final moments.
and the king of the night realized, to its horror, that it had been outfoxed by a superior predator.
the two broke apart, and the king clutched his throat and tore the pencil out of his chest, gagging on his own blood even as the wood weakened him.
staggering away from jim, who lay on the floor, it pushed the doors open and ran through, desperate to be clear of the hospital before it was attacked. the wood from the pencil had stymied its healing factor,and in so doing, had all but doomed it for the next ten minutes.
a swat team barred off both ends of the hallway and the king raced back into the room and grabbed jim, it hadn't killed him, not yet, but it was going to try after using him as a hostage.
slowly making its way out and holding jim by the throat as it hid behind him, it glared at the officers with their guns leveled at its back and brought its talon-tipped hands to jim's back.
jansen was at the other end of the hallway, arms folded behind his back.
"figured you might've showed up!" he shouted, and the vampire glared at jim.
He'd set this up, it realized.
"release the civilian!"
the vampire put a hand on jim's throat. "I'll kill him!" he warned.
the police seemed to hesitate at that, and the vampire grinned, thinking victory was at hand.
except that jim began laughing.
"silence!" the vampire hissed desperately, driving its fingers into his back.
"Officers, fire on the goddamned vampire, i'm dead either way and you have my permission to shoot through this meatshield if it means killing this son of a bitch!! NOW FIRE!!"
"that's not gonna happen!" jansen replied.
"think officer, why would something immune to bullets be using a hostage!"
"QUIET!!" the vampire snarled, digging deeper.
"look at how desperate it is to shut me up!! it knows goddamned well that its healing factor is either spent or not working....maybe because i jammed a pencil into its heart?"
"SILENCE!!" the vampire roared and its hand went through jim's chest, tearing through his heart, as did, it realized to its own horror, any chances of surviving.
as the police from the front brought up bulletproof shields, the police down back fired, and the vampire could hear jim rasp out "Just....according.....to keikaku."
And the king of the night dropped the corpse of the superior predator and gave a resigned sigh as hot lead tore through its remaining vital organs too fiercely for its weakened healing factor to keep up with.
its hands and body melted into dust and the vampire shook its head, laughing.
"so.....ends the reign...of the current king of the night....all hail the king....." he faded into dust and jansen had a body bag ordered for jim, shaking his head in horror at the loss of life it took to kill this one thorn in his side.
weeks later in the morgue, jim's body went missing, reports were filed by nothing particularly unusual happened in the following days. Jansen considered it a mercy that the end to such a fiend had come at so generous a price, and yet the mystery of just where jim's body had gone was one that had the coroners puzzled, the footage in the morgue only showed the shelf with his body opening, but nothing was inside.
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