Kiss of the Vampire
"The Girl With The Sharp Sword Part 2"
Mission 17: The King's Authority!
The white ceiling of the Bureau infirmary felt like it was pressing down on Elisia's chest. Her eyelids were leaden, stitched shut by exhaustion, but her mind was a storm of violet light and static.
Then, the image hit her—not a fragment, but a full-frame flash of a face that made her breath hitch. It was him. Deyviel. He was leaning against a jagged rock under a sky that looked like bruised silk, his thumb flicking a gold coin into the air. He looked at her, and even in the silence of the memory, she could hear the echo of his voice: "I'm counting on you."
Elisia bolted upright, a gasp tearing from her throat.
"Easy, Lis. You're okay. You're back."
The voice was grounded, deep, and familiar. Elisia blinked, her vision clearing. Ben Rayleigh was sitting on a stool beside her cot. He looked different. The weary, bureaucratic mask he usually wore was gone, replaced by the sharp, terrifyingly calm demeanor of a man who had reclaimed his throne. His hand was resting on the Yamato, which leaned against the wall—the ancient blade humming in a low, protective frequency.
"Ben..." she whispered, her hand instinctively flying to her shoulder where the wound had been. It was sealed, but the skin felt cold. "I saw him. Not the monster wearing his face. I saw him."
Ben nodded, his jaw tight. "I know. The 'Reset' is failing, Elisia. The more we touch that sword, the more the universe remembers what it tried to delete. We aren't just hunters anymore. We're glitches."
Before Elisia could respond, the heavy reinforced door of the medical wing slid open with a sharp hydraulic hiss.
Two figures stepped into the room, flanked by Bureau security. The man in the lead moved with a heavy, rhythmic stride—tall, jagged, and wearing a black Henley that was stained with a dark, violet-tinged fluid. Beside him was a woman with short black hair and a sidearm already drawn, her eyes darting across the room with tactical precision.
Ben stood up slowly. The air in the room suddenly felt twice as heavy, a silent clash of "Old World" auras that made the fluorescent lights flicker and pop.
"Who the hell are you?" Ben asked. He didn't reach for the Yamato, but the space around him seemed to warp, the "Strongest Hunter's" domain asserting itself.
The man, Denver, stopped ten feet away. He didn't look at Ben's badge; he looked directly at Elisia, then down at the Yamato. His own side was pulsing with a faint, rhythmic purple light, echoing the vibration of the sword.
"My name is Denver," the man said, his voice gravelly and exhausted. "And I think we're all hearing the same ghost."
Reyes, Denver's partner, took a step back, her hand shaking as she looked at Ben. "Sir, the sensors on our way in... they went off the charts. You two have the same resonance as the entity we tracked from Colorado."
Elisia swung her legs over the side of the cot, ignoring the spike of pain in her ribs. She looked at Denver—at the hollow, haunted look in his eyes that mirrored her own. "The shadow," she said. "The one that eats memories. You brought it here, didn't you?"
Denver's expression darkened. "It followed the scent. It's an Outer God called Lethe-Ka. It's here to finish what the Great Sage started. It wants to eat the last few people who remember the 'Stupid Kid' who saved the world."
Ben clicked his tongue, a sharp, cynical sound. "Stupid kid. That sounds like something he'd do." He looked at Denver, his eyes narrowing. "You're a Witness. Just like us."
"I'm the Anchor," Denver corrected, clutching his side. "But I'm running out of 'Memory Mass.' If that thing hits this building, it won't just kill us. It'll make it so this entire Bureau branch never existed."
The building suddenly shuddered. Not like an earthquake—like a record skipping. For a split second, the walls turned gray and translucent, and the sound of the city outside vanished.
"It's here," Elisia whispered, her hand closing around the silver blade on the nightstand.
The Eater of Memories had arrived in Manila. And it had found the motherlode.
The infirmary walls groaned as if the building itself were being squeezed by an invisible hand. The flickering lights cast long, jagged shadows that seemed to move independently of the furniture. Denver stood his ground, his hand pressed against his glowing side, while Ben Rayleigh watched him with eyes that had seen the birth and death of timelines.
"Lethe-Ka," Denver repeated, his voice strained. "The Eater of Memories. An exiled Outer God. He's the one finishing the job the 'Reset' started. He eats the witnesses, Ben. He eats the history."
Ben clicked his tongue, a sharp, metallic sound that echoed through the room. "Troublesome," he muttered. He looked at the empty space where the "Stupid Kid" used to be in his mind. "Without him around to take the heat, this is going to be a real hassle."
Ben reached for the Yamato leaning against the wall. Instead of drawing it, he tossed the ancient, scabbarded blade across the room. Denver caught it, the impact nearly knocking him over.
The moment Denver's fingers closed around the wood of the scabbard, the resonance hit him like a physical blow. The "Voice" in his head didn't just speak—it roared. The image of the boy with the gold coin, the violet sky, and the final sacrifice snapped into high-definition. Denver gasped, his knees buckling as he finally remembered Deyviel in his entirety.
"I see him," Denver whispered, tears stinging his eyes. "I remember everything."
"Good," Ben said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, calm register. "Now you have enough 'mass' to stay anchored."
Elisia, watching the shadows outside the door grow taller and more jagged, gripped her silver blade. "Ben, if this thing is a god... if we can't beat it here, we have to escape. We need to lead it away from the city."
Ben didn't answer immediately. He reached into the air, his fingers closing around a ripple in space. With a pull, he summoned his soul weapon. A Kampilan—the heavy, dual-pointed blade of the islands—materialized in a flash of blue light. Ben looked at it, his brow furrowing in dissatisfaction. He shook his head, and the weapon dissolved back into sparks.
"Not feeling it," Ben murmured.
He closed his eyes, focusing on a memory of a war fought ten thousand years ago. He reached into the Void again. This time, the light that erupted was blinding. When it cleared, Ben was holding a Jian—an ancient Chinese straight sword. But it wasn't a standard blade; it was massive, the steel broader and heavier than any historical record, etched with celestial runes that pulsed with the power of the "Strongest."
He weighed it in his hand, a small, satisfied smile touching his lips. "Much better."
Ben turned and began walking toward the hallway, where a low, grinding noise—like the sound of a world being torn apart—was growing louder. The "Subtraction Field" was manifesting; the walls were turning to gray ash wherever the shadow touched.
"Ben, wait!" Elisia shouted, reaching for his arm.
Reyes stepped forward, her sidearm raised. "Captain, you can't go out there alone! That thing is an Outer God! We need a containment plan, a ritual—"
Ben stopped and looked back over his shoulder. He gave them a casual, cocky wink—the signature move of a man who knew exactly how much power he was sitting on.
"Don't worry, I'll be fine," Ben said, his aura beginning to flare, pushing back the encroaching darkness. "I never said I couldn't beat it. I just said it was a hassle if I have to use my full power."
He turned his back to them, the massive Jian resting on his shoulder, and walked straight into the heart of the Void.
The hallway groaned as the structural integrity of the Bureau building began to buckle under the weight of the "Subtraction Field." Ceiling tiles disintegrated into gray ash before they even hit the floor.
Groups of tactical hunters, their faces pale with terror, were unloading their rifles into the darkness. The bullets simply vanished into the shadow's mass like stones dropped into a well.
"FALL BACK!" Ben's voice boomed, carrying a physical pressure that forced the hunters to stumble. "Evacuate the building! Now! Secure a three-block radius and don't let anyone—human or vampire—inside. I'm handling this."
The hunters didn't argue. The sheer weight of Ben's aura was more terrifying than the shadow itself. They scrambled for the emergency exits, leaving the "Strongest" alone in the corridor.
The corridor groaned as the structural integrity of the Bureau building began to buckle. The Vorid-Spawn's jagged limbs stretched, its mirror-head vibrating with a sound that threatened to erase the sanity of everyone nearby.
Ben didn't flinch. He adjusted his grip on the massive Celestial Jian, his presence shifting from a man to a monument. He drew a deep breath, and as he exhaled, the air ignited with a golden, rhythmic hum.
"By the light of heaven's grace," Ben began, his voice resonating through the very atoms of the room. "Where angels clash in divine fury, I summon the sacred battleground, where judgment is forged in fire."
He slammed the heel of his boot into the ground.
"Kings Authority! : Regalia Confrontation!"
A sphere of absolute temporal command detonated from his center. It wasn't just a barrier; it was a rewriting of the laws of physics. Every hunter and medic not labeled as an ally was instantly blinked out of the building, deposited safely blocks away.
Inside the golden dome, the world became a high-contrast masterpiece. Time didn't stop, but it became heavy—viscous. The Vorid-Spawn, caught mid-lunge, was suddenly fighting against the weight of centuries.
The Regalia Confrontation was a cruel judge. A visible stream of golden particles was ripped from the Spawn's body—30% of its strength, speed, and essence—and pulled into Ben. As the monster withered, Ben's stature seemed to grow, his eyes turning into ticking, crystalline clockwork.
In this divine light, the shadow could no longer hide. The creature stabilized into its true nightmare form: a Vorid-Spawn, a skeletal horror of calcified memory and obsidian hooks.
"Tch," Ben clicked his tongue, the massive Jian resting casually on his shoulder. In this domain, he moved with a fluid, terrifying speed that made the slowed monster look like a statue. "Thought I could slay a god today, but it got my hopes up for nothing. You're just a stray dog."
He sighed, the stolen power of the spawn coursing through his limbs. "But whatever. You'll do. Just don't expect a quick death. I'm going to squeeze every bit of information out of you."
Denver, Elisia, and Reyes stood frozen in the infirmary, watching the impossible. They were protected, yet the sheer density of the time-dilation made the air feel like liquid gold.
"He's stealing its time," Elisia whispered, her silver blade trembling. "He's forcing it to exist in a second that lasts forever."
Ben walked calmly toward the struggling horror. To the Spawn, Ben was a god moving between the ticks of a clock. He slammed the flat of the massive Jian into the creature's chest, pinning it to the floor with a sound that echoed like a mountain collapsing.
"Talk," Ben commanded, his eyes burning with the cold fire of the Strongest. "Tell me where the Eater—your father—is hiding in this archipelago. Or I'll start by peeling away the memories you just stole."
The golden atmosphere of the Regalia Confrontation hummed like a trillion disturbed hornets. Inside this sanctum of distorted time, the Vorid-Spawn was a glitch in the system. Its obsidian joints creaked, emitting a sound like grinding stones as it fought against the 90% speed reduction.
Spurred by a primal, alien terror, the creature did the impossible. It forced its body to move, its muscles tearing and its calcified bones snapping as it overrode the temporal lock through sheer, agonizing willpower. It lunged at Ben, its jagged hooks swinging in a slow-motion arc that left trails of black smoke in the air.
Ben didn't even raise his sword to parry. He simply tilted his head, the hook passing hair-breadths from his cheek.
"Resisting?" Ben's voice was a low rumble of thunder. "I told you. This is a sacred battleground. Your struggle is an insult to the King."
Ben moved. To Denver and Elisia, it looked like a strobe light—Ben was in one spot, then he was buried in the creature's guard.
He didn't use the Jian's edge; he used his fists.
BOOM.
A punch packed with the weight of the 30% siphoned strength slammed into the creature's midsection. The shockwave rippled through the golden domain, the force so absolute that the Vorid-Spawn's back exploded outward in a spray of violet sparks.
Ben grabbed the creature by its spindly neck and slammed it into the floor. Then he began to systematically dismantle it.
Left-hook. The mirror-shard jaw of the creature shattered.
Right-cross. Three of its needle-like legs snapped like dry kindling.
"You're a scavenger," Ben spat, his fist glowing with golden friction as he rained down blows that moved faster than the eye could track. "You eat the memories of the brave because you have no soul of your own."
The creature tried to manifest a Void-shriek, but Ben caught its jaw mid-gape and squeezed until the obsidian bone powdered under his grip. He was "beating the shit out of it" with the cold, calculated fury of a god punishing a thief.
Denver watched, the Yamato vibrating violently in his hands. "He's not just killing it," Denver realized, his voice trembling. "He's breaking its concept. He's making it forget how to exist."
Ben finally stood, his boot planted firmly on the creature's cracked chest. The Vorid-Spawn was a mangled heap of shadow and broken glass, barely a third of its original size.
"Last chance," Ben said, his eyes glowing with the King's Authority. "Where is Lethe-Ka?"
The creature's remaining mirror-eye flickered. It didn't speak. Instead, it projected a single image into the air—a jagged, psychic broadcast that hit everyone in the room.
It was the Vaeloria Estate in Intramuros. But the mansion was gone. In its place stood a pillar of absolute darkness that pierced the clouds, and at the center of that pillar, a figure was screaming.
It was Cassian, his stolen body—the body of Kael—undergoing a horrific transformation. He wasn't just a vampire anymore. He was becoming the physical vessel for the Outer God himself.
Suddenly, the golden dome of the domain groaned. A massive, crimson crack appeared in the air above them.
CRACK.
The sound of a bell chimed—the same bell that had signaled the end of the Second Great War.
"Ben!" Elisia pointed upward.
Outside the golden barrier, the sky over Manila had turned a sickly, bruised violet. The "Reset" was no longer just a memory; it was happening again, in real-time.
Ben looked up, his face hardening as he felt a presence he hadn't felt in ten thousand years. A presence that was currently breaking into his domain.
"He's not just coming for us," Ben whispered, the Jian beginning to hum with a frantic, desperate energy. "He's already here."
The golden domain shattered like glass.
The darkness of the hallway rushed back in, but the Vorid-Spawn was gone. In its place stood a tall, hooded figure holding a Crimson Scepter. The figure looked at Ben, then at Denver holding the Yamato, and finally at Elisia.
The figure pulled back its hood, revealing the face of the boy they had all forgotten.
"Did you miss me?" the figure asked, but the voice wasn't Deyviel's. It was a thousand voices speaking at once—the voices of the dead.
The King is back. The Witness is ready. But the God has already won the first round.
To be continued