Hunters of the Shadows

"Darius Creeed." The thing hissed, stepping around the table as it wiped blood from its chin and licked it with a dark red tongue. "It hasss been a long time Creeeed."

Creed glanced at Takada. He had been ripped from his waist to his throat. Creed's nostrils flared as he met Rasmere's glazed eyes. The Nosferatu was drunk with blood, and the Gypsy knew now was when he would be the most powerful.

"Not long enough Rasmere." Creed answered, as hate filled his voice.

The Vampire Lord stepped closer bringing his face into the candlelight; he had changed over the years, his face becoming more canine like. Creed also noticed the Lord's skin; it was so milky white it appeared translucent and the eyes, Rasmere's eyes, had become a pale bluish white. They did not reflect the light in the room as the Lord stood smiling at his most hated enemy.

"You have grown more powerful." Creed admitted with a nod, seeing the signs. Pure Blood or not only a very powerful vampire had that milky skin and telltale unusual eye coloring.

Rasmere shrugged slightly. "The hunting has been good, Creeed." He answered, removing the cowl of his robe flipping it back onto his shoulders.

Creed saw the final sign of power, the heavy white streaked hair.

He looked past the Lord to the lesser vampires who now satisfied their own hungers from the opened body of his friend.

"What do you look for Creeed? This?" Rasmere held Takada's sword in his clawed fingers.

The Gypsy felt the bile rising in his throat as his grip tightened on the pistols.

"Return it to me." He ordered but Rasmere shook his head.

"No, Gypsssy. It iss a tool for killing my kinnnd. I willl seee it gets a good home."

His smile widened allowing more blood to drip from his open mouth.

Creed shoved the pistols forward. "You will die then!" He promised as he fired one barrel from the weapon in his right hand.

The vampire moved his head as the silver ball sped at him; it missed crashing into the far wall instead. With a look of contempt, Rasmere turned back to Creed.

"I will be going now, Gypsy. If you survive, which I believe is possible, I will see you again."

He disappeared back into the shadows motioning to his underlings who climbed from the table.

Creed tensed as they flashed their blood-covered fangs, dead eyes staring at him as they crept forward swinging their claws. He raised the pistol firing the second barrel into the closest demon knocking it backward with a flutter of black robes.

He twisted and dropped the useless weapon as another vampire dove at him clawed hands slashing. Loud screeching sounds erupted, chilling his insides, as the demon's iron like claws raked down his coat unable to penetrate the enchanted werewolf hide.

Stunned the demon stepped away unbelieving that his claws had no effect. Creed spun kicking the attacker in the chest knocking it back into the other two. He switched his second gun to his right hand firing both barrels into the rolling flopping vampire on top of the pile. Discarding that weapon, he pulled his long bladed knives weaving an arc of death as he closed in on the two rolling survivors.

One jumped to its feet showing sharp incisor teeth as it crouched to spring. Creed was too fast, though as he kicked straight into the demon's chest. The strike rocked the creature knocking the robed figure back over the table where Takada's body rested.

Creed avoided the clawed hand of the vampire at his feet sweeping the blow past with one knife as he sliced back with the other. The silver tipped weapon bit across the creature's throat, the precious metal reacting to the vampires system; it fell shaking to the floor as the smoke of death began to flame from the wound.

The last vampire sprang from behind the table trying for the door of the room. Creed flipped the blade in his right hand exchanging the handle for the tip. He tossed it at the retreating demon catching the vampire square between the shoulders as it reached the doorway. The demon fell backwards into the room as it also began to decay in the smoke of a demon's death.

Creed looked about, Rasmere was gone and only four smoking skeletons remained in the room. The smell choked and gagged him as it filled the small room.

Creed picked up his pistols, reloading them while he looked over the dead Samurai. He had not been bitten; they had simply opened him up and drank his blood as he died slowly. It was a cruel death for such a warrior. It pained the Gypsy that there was nothing he could do for his friend; it would be too hard to explain later.

He took some of his powder from the loading flask dumping it over a pile of debris in the corner.

"Fire will cleanse this place of terror." He whispered taking a candle from the table and tossing it into the powder.

By the time Creed walked from the warehouse, fire was already engulfing the upper room where Takada lay among the remains of the undead!