Slayer (1)

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Why? Why had they done this to her?

She collapsed in a heap, unable to remain standing any longer, and buried her face in her hands as she attempted and failed to control her violent sobs. Tears flowed down her cheeks like non-slowing rivers, soaked up by her sleeves and running down her arms. Her shoulders shook as sobs ripped through her body.

She knew they had left. She could sense it, sense the room was empty except for her and her over-whelming grief. Of course they had left. They'd done what they wanted to and were long gone. Still, she forbade herself from crying any louder than her current soft keening. They didn't need to know how she was suffering, and the tears doubled as she remembered all over again.

They were gone. All of them. All of the people she had cared for. The only ones she could trust. All of them: gone. She'd never see their faces again.

It had been wrong to lock all her desperate sadness away for so long. She should have listened, should have used the knife while she still could have. Should have gotten rid of them then. How could she have held back? But it was too late now. It had passed, and there was nothing she could do about it. It was over.

They had destroyed her.

Half an hour later, she pulled herself together, her face set with resolve and determination. This wasn't over yet. Not. By. Far.

~*~

He took a single step towards her, anticipation and blood-lust buzzing in his veins like every other hunt. He couldn't wait for the sweet deliciousness of the girl's blood to sate his everlasting thirst...

The moment she sensed the movement, she whirled around and reflexively withdrew a long, thin knife from a hidden sheath. Only a simple steel dagger. What chance did it have? He suppressed a laugh at the useless weapon. It was no match against his immortal strength and experience.

The girl backed away as he continued to advance toward her, a naked fear in her eyes. She held the knife out at him, and he didn't even flinch.

Letting a low chuckle escape his throat, he leaned into her tempting scent, waiting for the right moment to strike. Maybe if he spoke, she'd have more a reaction-humans could be dreary oftentimes, and the hunt was the best part after the feast. "Now, now... Do you really think that measly blade can do anything to me..." he smirked. This mere human didn't have a chance.

He caught a flash of recognition in her eyes, and she smiled secretly. "Measly blade?" she echoed. "Xavier, I think you should know a blade as significant as this one in your history. Or does the true form help your memory? Laktnoz," she commanded, and the thin dagger transformed into a deadly, glistening sword. The weapon of bloody pasts. The weapon of...a vampire slayer. The vampire slayer.

A flood of shock rushed through his body. How!? How did this girl know his name? Was it...her? The one who she had left the sword to? The heiress?

Perfect.

~*~

"I must say," Xavier mused aloud. "That was quite the acting back there, Your Highness. Unless you were truly scared? Possibly..."

I resisted a shudder. I had only interacted with him for less than three minutes, yet he knew my identity-or at least title-and emotions already. It was his possession of this information that made me vulnerable to him. If Xavier knew any more about me, he could reduce me with ease and I'd be at his mercy.

No wonder Xavier was the lord of all vampires. It wasn't only his regal and honored, pure bloodline, the Madoski, but his skill was legendary even when compared to the outstanding skill of the princess of the Pranton vampire slayer line-me. This was one of my very most difficult missions yet, and I'd barely begun.

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