26. Lucien

Chapter 26

Lucien

ENGLAND, 1645

T he scent of fear hangs thick in the air as Nix and I approach the village. Moonlight glints off the thatched roofs, and smoke curls from chimneys. It's a peaceful scene, soon to be shattered.

"Ready, brother?" Nix grins at me, his fangs gleaming in the darkness.

I nod, feeling the familiar rush of anticipation. "Always."

We move silently through the shadows, two predators on the hunt. The first house is easy — a simple wooden latch that I break with a flick of my wrist. Inside, a family sleeps, unaware of the monsters at their door.

Nix takes the parents, his hand clamped over the mother's mouth to muffle her screams. I go for the children, draining them quickly. Their blood is intoxicatingly sweet; innocence tinged with terror.

As we emerge, faces smeared with blood, I feel alive. Powerful. Unstoppable.

"Next one?" Nix asks, his eyes wild with bloodlust.

We tear through the village like a storm, leaving death and destruction in our wake. Screams fill the night air, a symphony of terror that only fuels our frenzy.

In one house, we find a young woman hiding in a closet. Nix pulls her out, her terrified whimpers music to our ears.

"This one's pretty," he says, running a finger down her tear-stained cheek. "Shall we keep her?"

I consider it for a moment, then shake my head. "No loose ends, brother. You know the rules."

Nix pouts playfully but doesn't argue. He sinks his fangs into her neck, and I watch as the life drains from her eyes.

We move on, house after house falling to our insatiable hunger. Some try to fight, others to flee. It makes no difference. We are death incarnate, and none can escape us.

We are the most powerful beings in existence.

Our father told us so.

In the village square, we face a group of men armed with pitchforks and torches. It's almost laughable how outmatched they are.

"Shall we play with them a bit?" Nix suggests, a cruel smile twisting his features.

I nod, matching his grin. "Why not? We have all night."

What follows is a game of cat and mouse, toying with the villagers as they try desperately to defend their homes and families. We're too fast, too strong. Their weapons are useless against us.

A burly man swings his pitchfork at me. I catch it easily, wrenching it from his grasp and impaling him on his own weapon. His shocked expression as he falls is oddly satisfying.

Nix, meanwhile, is toying with three younger men. He darts between them, slashing with his sharp fingernails, drawing out their pain and fear. "Come now," he taunts, "surely you can do better than this?"

One of the men, braver or more foolish than the rest, charges at Nix with a torch. My brother sidesteps easily, grabbing the man's arm and using his momentum to send him crashing into his companions. In the blink of an eye, Nix is on them, fangs tearing into flesh.

As the night wears on, our game becomes more elaborate, more cruel. We chase a group of survivors into the church, listening to their desperate prayers with amusement.

"Shall we show them how powerless their god is?" I suggest, eyeing the heavy wooden doors.

Nix's eyes light up. "Oh yes, let's. Father would so enjoy hearing about it."

Together, we rip the doors from their hinges. The screams from inside reach a fevered pitch as we enter this supposed sanctuary.

"Your god can't save you," I announce, my voice echoing in the vaulted space. "We are your deities now."

What follows is a massacre. Blood stains the stone floor, seeping into the cracks. We desecrate the altar, turning their place of worship into a tomb.

As dawn approaches, we stand amidst the carnage. The village is silent now, save for the crackling of fires and the occasional moan of a survivor we've left to suffer.

Nix claps me on the shoulder, his laughter echoing in the empty square. "Now that, brother, was a feast!"

I survey the destruction, feeling a sense of pride and power. This is what it means to be a vampire — to take what we want, to revel in our superiority over these fragile humans.

"Indeed it was," I agree, wiping blood from my chin. "Though I fear we may have been a touch... overzealous."

Nix raises an eyebrow. "Oh? Having regrets, Lucien?"

I shake my head. "Not regrets. But this level of destruction... it will be noticed. We'll need to lay low for a while."

My brother scoffs. "Let them come. We'll give them the same treatment."

As we leave the ruined village behind, I feel no remorse, no guilt. Only satisfaction and a hunger for more.

The world is ours for the taking, and we will paint it red with the blood of humans.

I glance at Nix, seeing my own bloodlust reflected in his eyes. "Where to next, brother?"