Chapter 113:
2 Year Anniversary Special
Happy two year anniversary! Here is a special chapter written by Cat to celebrate almost ⅔ of the main story being completed~~! We hope you enjoy this special chapter, and thank you all for your continued support! ♥ (If that ⅔’s scares you, don’t worry! There will be many side extras to come~)
And here we have a short vampire-themed extra, noble vampire x vampire hunter! Not entirely NSFW, but it dances heavily on that line! Please note this is not a part of the novel, just a fun extra. Regular chapters will resume next week! Wow this is 12 pages… ;;
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A tall young man stood by the tall, embellished gothic window of the stone building. His eyes fell on the full moon in the clear night sky, his green eyes full of thought as he let out a small sigh from his mouth, his lips pursed, his expression full of contemplation. His mind danced around the conversation he had had two days prior, a conversation that had poked the sleeping tiger’s den, unleashing an unquenchable wave of fear and anxiety, knowing this situation, having been abandoned for more than ten years, was about to come to a close.
“They’ve located him in the abandoned villa in the middle of Haggrove Forest. He just arrived, so it is unlikely he’ll be leaving soon. Are you sure you’re comfortable taking this on?”
“Just tell me where he is. I want to take care of him myself.”
One of his long-time vampire-hunting colleagues, Derrik, had asked, having freshly gathered the information from the broker within the hunting organization. The broker was very familiar with Silas, having been supplying the man with information regarding his past apprentice since their untimely disappearance.
They all knew why. That young man, the young man that showed so much promise as a hunter, was really a vampire, a vampire that had hidden under Silas’s nose for years. The hurt from Clarence’s lies edged deep. Not only did Clarence hide his identity as a vampire, but he killed those of his own kind indiscriminately, using the skills Silas had earnestly taught him like a promising pupil, looking back to his teacher with the joy of a young man who succeeded to fall into his teacher’s good graces.
It was not until an incident occurred while on a crucial mission that exposed Clarence’s identity as a vampire. Not just any vampire, but a member of the vampire nobility. He posed a far greater danger than could be expressed. When Silas found this out, he was nearly killed by the vampires that helped Clarence escape from the group of hunters, allowing Clarence one last chance to rub his vampire identity in the hunter’s faces, never to be seen again until now.
Rubbing the corner of his tired eyes, Silas thought to himself, For him to hide this close, he wanted to make his location known. He wants me to find him. It was a dangerous gamble. Clarence was wanted by the entire hunter’s guild as one of the highest level fugitives. Announcing his presence like this, it was suicide.
Silas could only assume it was Clarence’s way of contacting his teacher again, one last time before they would forever part ways. He could only assume it was to either say goodbye, or kill the teacher he had once admired. With those thoughts in mind, Silas steeled his resolve, preparing to kill his disciple with his own two hands. Any other hunter would kill him viciously, but Silas, still feeling some lingering regrets regarding his disciple, wanted to kill him mercifully, to end his life once and for all.
The moon was high in the sky. It was time to act soon. The daylight was coming, and soon, Clarence would no longer be awake for their fight. Staring at his prepared supplies, Silas began his short preparation ritual as usual before he would go on a mission.
Carefully, Silas began to pour the blessed water into small glass vials, corking the bottles once they had been filled to the brim with the clear, cool water. Once the five vials were filled, he reached around his waist and attached the vials to his belt, the glass clanking as he adjusted the buckle around his leather sword sheath. A sharp silver dagger rested on his left calf, hidden by the cover of his black combat suit.
Adjusting the various buckles on his suit, Silas stepped forward and grabbed a chain off of his nightstand. It was a small cross necklace, a Celtic cross inlaid with a single red gem in the center of the cross, the gem small but vibrant. The item was one of a pair, one in his possession, one in his apprentice’s.
Does he still have his? Silas wondered, rolling the Celtic cross back and forth in his fingers as his thumb brushed across the decorated surface. The cross was delicately engraved, made in a pair to signify the close relationship between a vampire-hunting master and their apprentice. While Silas’s cross was not much larger than his thumb, Clarence’s was half that size, made to highlight his position as an apprentice.
The Celtic cross was a sign of a vampire hunter, a holy object made to harm vampires and purify humans. Though the item no longer held the power it used to, many hunters still kept one in their possession, signifying their role to the world around them.
Leaving the small dormitory, Silas stepped into the hall, his boots thudding against the aged wood floors as he entered the main area of the bunker, his gear neatly arranged on his body, and his satchel tied to his back.
“Where are you going, Silas? Another mission?” A group of Silas’s comrades were playing cards in the common area of the hunter’s bunker, gathered around a large table with chips scattered across the table, playing some form of poker.
Carrying his assembled backpack, Silas nodded, “I’m going to clear out a small vampire den not too far from here. I’ll be back soon.” He waved his hand, saying a quick goodbye to his comrades as he stepped through the large doors to the outside hall of the bunker, each step taking him one step closer to his past apprentice, the young man he had known once as a young human man.
Unknowingly, it would be his last time leaving this place.
…
The dark, dilapidated mansion was in shambles, the outer shell of the mansion’s blood-red, wooden siding falling apart. Chunks of rotted wood fell to the ground, various vines overgrown and eating away at the wooden walls, while bushes of wild red roses bunched around around the perimeter of the building. The thorns were unkempt, poking out towards the walkway in a disordered fashion, threatening to grab those who dared to pass by, cutting their skin like shards of glass.
As Silas walked, he stepped forward, tucking his cloak close to his body as he stepped down the grassy, stone-beaten path. Grass grew through the dirt between the stones, and each step of Silas’s flatted more and more blades of the overgrown, browning stalks. The blades of grass were sharp, but they were quickly flattened under Silas’s feet, never to stand again, left in a dilapidated fashion, forgotten, much like Silas’s disciple.
Stepping onto the wooden porch, the warped wood grimaced and groaned, producing an audible sound as Silas quickly stepped forward with caution, focusing most of his body weight where the visible support pieces were. His body maintained its upright stance as he walked carefully, some pieces cracking off of the warped planks as he removed his body weight, continuing forward.
Finally, he stood in front of the home, the two doors the only intact part of the house itself. They were made of a deep red mahogany wood, the detailed doorways decorated with delicate carving of intricate shapes, none familiar to Silas. He lifted his gloved hand and brushed it against the carvings, running his finger down a vein in the wood as his fingers soon came in contact with the knocker on the door, the cool metal transferring to the tips of his fingers.
Grasping the knocker in his hand, Silas knocked it twice against the door before it opened itself, allowing him entry into the long-forgotten building. With his figure inside the mansion, the door rapidly shut behind him, cloaking him in the darkness of the doorway as he found himself staring upwards, towards the top of the stairwell. Squinting through the darkness in the wide front hall, Silas was barely able to make out the tall figure, his eyes fixed on their shadow.
Standing at the top of the stairs was Clarence, his figure still, shadowed by the dim light of the full moon behind him as he slowly stepped down the stairs, step by step, each step bringing him one step closer to his previous master, Silas.
“Master.” An unrecognizable voice called out, the tone deep and heavy, carrying weight with the words it expressed. Silas looked up at Clarence with a frown, feeling as though he were looking at the mirror image of the young man he had taught before, the mirage of the young, youthful man blending with the young man in front of him now, time warping his features until he was nearly unrecognizable to Silas.
“You know why I’m here.” Silas uttered, pulling his heavy silver sword out of his sheath.
Clarence laughed, “I can only wonder.” His tone dripped with sarcasm, drawing his sword from his waist.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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“You lied to me, hiding your true self!” Silas hissed in response, pushing back as he stepped back twice, increasing the distance between the two once again. “You were always a vampire!”
Clarence stepped forward again, as if trying to close the distance between himself and Silas, but Silas only lifted his sword and swung again, cutting off Clarence’s pursuit forward. “Why don’t we talk about this?” Clarence increased his strength, pushing back Silas’s sword with a wave of his wrist. “We have all the time in the world.” The young man’s mouth slowly opened, exposing the tips of his sharpened canine teeth, his fangs. He licked them, his smile almost predatory.
A chill ran down Silas’s spine as he tightened his grip on his blade, feeling the chill in the air overwhelm him.
Continuing the battle, Silas ran forward again, slashing his sword towards Clarence’s upper arm, leaving a shallow cut against the top of his left shoulder, narrowly missing his chest.
“You missed, master.” Clarence laughed, pushing back Silas with a heavy swing of his own. “My heart is here.” He patted his chest with his free hand, mockingly smiling at Silas with a gaze that made Silas’s hands tremble and his body fall even colder. The gaze in his disciples eyes was no longer warm, but full of unknown intentions. “But even if you hit my heart, would you be able to kill me?”
Silas’s eyes widened unconsciously, his fingers trembling, “Shut up!”
Clarence stepped forward again, attempting to close the distance between the two once again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can you kill me, Master?” He asked this question, knowing the effect it would have on Silas.
There was no response from the other man, only the sound of the sword swinging, resuming the battle once again.
The battle only continued to intensify as more words were exchanged. Silas used the stair banister as leverage to lift himself up to the second floor, launching upwards from the bottom of the stairs to attack the young vampire from above. Clarence was quick to follow, disappearing like a puff of smoke only to appear near Silas again, his sword still held tightly in his hand.
The sword in Clarence’s hand moved rapidly, causing Silas to fall flat to the ground to avoid the span of the man’s blade. Undaunted, Clarence swung his sword down towards Silas, narrowly missing the man as he rolled to the side like a log, his sword still held tightly in his grasp as he used the side of the wall to propel him forward, launching himself steadily forward, slashing Clarence’s face with the sword.
“Ah, that hurt.” Clarence’s tone betrayed his words as he smiled, the not-so-shallow wound steadily closing with no evidence of a scar under Silas’s heavy gaze. Gritting his teeth, Silas moved forward again, his blows barely able to harm the other man as the wounds continued to rapidly heal, leaving no traces of his attacks.
After more and more heavy blows were exchanged, Silas began to weaken, but he knew if he were unable to kill the prince, he would die in this very house, leaving his past disciple to live his days as the very creature he despised. Wiping away the string of blood on his chin, Silas stared forward, his green eyes burning with fury.
“Master, you don’t have to do this. Your body can’t handle it.” Silas was panting, his arms trembling with the weight of his sword. Even his eyes began to blur, showing the fatigue Silas had endured after a sizable amount of time had passed since the start of their battle. Clarence’s blows were not light, and while Silas had trained for years, there was no comparison in their strength.
A human could never compare to a vampire.
As the battle began to fall to a standstill, the doors to the hall flew open, exposing the faces of nearly ten heavily-armed men, their faces far too familiar for Silas not to recognize them. With their weapons drawn, they pointed them towards Clarence and Silas, their expression taut and heavy.
Silas could only guess why they were here, seeing Derrik’s figure leading them at the front. Carefully, he reached to the vials on his waist, his hand wrapping around the first bottle.
“An interruption? What a shame.” Clarence clicked his tongue, his face shadowed with disdain, different from his words.
“Derrik, that fucking traitor!” Silas snarled, throwing one of the glass vials towards Clarence with a flick of his wrist, aiming towards the young man’s head as he moved backwards, away from the vampire in front of him.
Neither party had good intentions. Silas was no longer safe.
Clarence saw the glass and abruptly dodged it, leaving the glass to fly through the air before it hit the dilapidated, warped wood wall from behind. The glass shattered, drifting down to the ground like snowflakes as the blessed water splattered against the wall and rolled to the ground. It was as if all of his fury towards Clarence had shattered at that moment too, making Silas focus on the matter at hand, the fact that he was thought to be a traitor by his own companions.
“You came here with no word, telling no one you found this traitorous scum! What else are we going to think? That you came to kill him yourself? Blasphemy!” Another man from Silas’s group shouted back, their swords and crossbows drawn towards Silas and Clarence, who had only a short distance between them now. “You know better than anyone what this creature has done to us, Silas!”
Silas opened his mouth, ready to refute their words, but Clarence only laughed aloud, engulfing the words Silas had prepared to say as the young vampire turned towards the group of familiar men and said with a laugh, “How amusing. You dare call yourself my master’s comrades, but here you are, accusing him like this.” Clarence continued to laugh. “Maybe you’re right after all. Maybe he is colluding with me?”
“Despicable beast! How could you, Silas?” Garett, one of the senior members, had known Silas for over ten years. Yet, here he stood, listening to Derrik’s words as though they were gospel, his eyes full of fury towards Silas, the man he had supposedly known as a brother.
Silas opened his mouth without hesitation, “I came here to kill him myself. I’m his master, he’s my responsibility!” Silas patted his chest with his left hand, looking offended by their outrageous accusations.
“Kill him!” Derrik shouted, pointing his finger towards Silas as the weapons were raised, “He already lied to us! He’s colluding with that vampire and will no doubt kill us!”
“Master, come here.” Clarence quickly appeared at Silas’s side, attempting to grab Silas by the arm, but he dodged, his eyes full of fury as he hissed, “Why would I ever trust you, you hound!”
Before either of the two men could react, a cross bolt flew through the air, whizzing past Clarence’s head as it hit Silas’s left shoulder, knocking him back to the ground with a loud thud. Blood seeped from the deep wound near Silas’s heart, rendering him immobile on the ground, frozen in pain.
“Silas!” Clarence yelled out, his voice hoarse as he turned to the side, staring at Silas with a face pale with concern. He watched as Silas lay trembling in a pool of his own warm blood, circling him like a halo of red, absorbing the life out of his cooling body.
Watching the loving display between master and disciple, the other hunters’ faces were filled with disgust, their weapons raised as they stared at the pair with utter hatred. “You two will die today!” The leader lifted his broadsword, the light of the lowering moon shining against his blade like a scythe. “Traitors have no place in the Hunter’s Union.” The man’s brown eyes were haunting, dark like the night sky.
Clarence gently placed Silas down on the ground, his eyes narrowing in rage as he listened to the pained groans rolling from his master’s throat. The young vampire’s fingers curled inward, his nails sharpened like small blades, slowly digging into the soft flesh of his palm. His eyes slowly changed, losing their blue hue as they slowly turned red, the color burning through the night, startling the present hunters.
The previously calm sky slowly darkened, clouds passing over the moon. The room fell significantly cooler, even the air in the room falling to a deafening silence. The only sounds that could be heard were the shuffles of the hunters’ boots on the ground, and the mixing of their mingled breaths like dancers. Without the light of the room, the rom noticeably darkened, bringing along an unsettling atmosphere.
“Gather together!” The captain shouted, bringing the men back to back in a circle-like formation at the center of the room, their shoulders touching as they attempted to squint through the air, the dim lighting barely providing enough light for them to see. The torches they had prepared were quickly extinguished by a sudden strong wind, making the wooden items nearly useless.
“Stay in formation! As soon as you hear that damn vampire, use any means necessary to kill him!”
The men shuffled forward, listening for any sounds when there was a tearing sound near one of the men to the left. Derrik turned his head, reaching out his arm to feel, but he felt nothing, only a gap where the man had been standing to his left. Looking down, the man had fallen to the ground, his body frozen in fear as his crossbow fell to the ground next to him. A scream rang out as the man was dragged deeper into the darkness, out of view. A smear of blood was the only trace left of him, clawing away into the shadows.
“Carter!” One of the men shouted, quickly stepping forward as he used his sword to slash the air, his broadsword flailing wildly. The weapon, however, did not hit anything at all. Just as the larger man pulled back his weapon, a sharp object stabbed him through the chest. “Ahhhh!” He screamed in agony, blood shooting out of his chest and mouth before his figure disappeared into the darkness, leaving only eight of the original men left and another puddle of blood.
“I-I can’t die like this!” One of the men quickly fell apart, a new recruit. “I have a family, a wife-” He screamed, his weapon still resting in his hands as he attempted to step forward. “I’m leaving!”
“Don’t do it!” Another man yelled, but as he reached out, the foolish recruit had disappeared into the shadows, their hearts beating thunderously in their chests as the room fell silent once again. Feeling like a group of fawns, the pair regrouped again, their eyes bloodshot, full of rage.
“You were always a coward!” The captain shouted, “Fight us face to face like a real man, you beast!” They were continually at a disadvantage, standing like this in the middle of the main floor. They had no advantage using the second floor as cover either, and they could only stand like sitting ducks unless they provoked Clarence forward, using the same childish tactics they had chided the young vampire for.
Without warning, a sharp dagger flew through the air and took out two more men. The dagger rested in the center of their foreheads, stopping the captain and another man still in their tracks as they quickly collapsed to the ground, leaving the rest of the men panicking, losing all of their training in mere minutes at the thought of truly dying.
One by one, they were slowly pulled into the shadows, their screams filling the hall with echoes of fear, staining the warped wood red with the scent of blood. Each step of Clarence’s produced a sickening squelching sound as blood pooled around the ground, circling Derrik like a salt circle.
There was no protection now, only Derrik. At first, he circled around the blood pool, his eyes wide with fear before he collected himself with a shaky sigh. He walked backwards, finding a safe spot to cover his back as he stared forward, holding his sword in a defensive posture. “Come out and fight me!”
Hearing his weak provocation, Clarence was unhurried, willing to play only a little longer before he could save his beloved. “Your death will be the most painful, Derrik.” Clarence laughed, his sword stained with fresh blood as he stepped into the light, into Derrik’s view. “You dared to harm my master, trying to advance yourself within the Hunter’s Union.”
“N-no, I-” Derrik rapidly stepped back, his eyes full of tears as his weapon fell to the ground at his feet.
“What a shame. You’ll never get that leadership role you fought so hard to take.” Clarence continued to follow him at a steady pace. “It’s time for you to be a true leader.”
Derrik’s body was pulled forward, his figure disappearing much like the others into that familiar darkness, a shadowy concern of the man-made hell Clarence had created for himself to thoroughly enjoy.
A miserable scream rang out, flooding out the sounds of Silas’s labored breaths as he stared to the side, watching as his teammates were picked out one by one, hunted by one of the very creatures they had pursued in such a cruel, crude manner.
It’s time for all of us to die. Karma, most likely. Laying on the ground, Silas’s hands were drenched in his own blood, his eyes wet with tears as they fell dark, his life beginning to flash before his very eyes. He laid on the ground, trembling, cold as the blood left his body. He squinted forward into the darkness only to see Clarence’s figure covered in random splotches of blood. His footsteps shook the ground, sounding heavy to Silas.
“You act like you’ve already died.” Clarence said, staring down at Silas, his gaze cruel.
“Haven’t I?” Silas responded weakly, his voice barely a whisper.
Kneeling, Clarence lifted Silas’s upper body as he brought it closer to his chest, lowering his head towards the other man as he smelled his neck, licking his lips with a heavy gaze, making Silas’s fingers tremble, knowing what the other man had planned.
“You dare-” Silas began, his eyes wet with tears. “Turning me into one of you. Haven’t I suffered enough? Why do you hate me to such an extent, Clarence?”
“I never hated you, Master.” Clarence said, his gaze lifted from Silas’s shoulder on the other man’s face. “I always wanted you by my side. Now, I can finally make that a reality.”
Feeling Clarence’s hot breath on his neck, Silas attempted to fight him. “I never had a choice, did I!?” Silas shouted, barely able to muster the strength to fight. “Even if I wanted to say no, you’d turn me anyway! You son of a-”
There was a sharp pain tearing through Silas’s body, causing him to moan and whimper in pain.
His hands gripped the other man’s fabric cloak underneath his body with such force, the heavy cloak Clarence wore was torn under the strength of his hands, his pale fingers turning red at the force of his nails. The cool night air ate at the pale sweat beads haunting his brow, Silas’s lips were trembling white from the pressure of his teeth biting down on his lips.
“I made that choice for you, Master.”
After a moment, Clarence lifted his lips, his breathing rapid as he stared at the man in his arms, his lips stained with the color of blood. The man’s face was still deathly pale, but the danger had passed, now that Clarence had stepped in, saving his life. Gazing at the man in his arms, there was a smear of blood still resting on Silas’s chin. Gently, Clarence lifted his finger and brushed it away with his thumb, licking away the wet, warm blood on the tip of his finger with a smile.
“Sweet as I imagined.” The other man had long since fallen unconscious, but Clarence spoke to him as though he were awake, preparing to recover the past years they had spent apart now together. “Now it’s time to go home.”
Stepping around the smears of blood and limbs that littered the ground, Clarence kicked a stiff hand aside, out of his way as he carried Silas in a princess carry, his arms full as he walked. The door to the home had stayed open, exposing the cold, nearly snowy air in view as Clarence wrapped Silas up in his torn cloak, his gaze sweet.
Each step he took left a clear footprint of blood on the ground, marking one last trail before the pair disappeared into the night.
…
“That man was a vampire, how could you have missed that!?”
“A traitor! If we find that boy, he’s as good as dead!”
“Did you protect him, Silas? Tell me the truth.”
Silas fought the hazy memories in his sleep, his head turning back and forth as he attempted to shake the images away. They continued to haunt him, some clear, while others were hazy, bringing his brain into a foggy state. The farther he ran forward, the clearer they became until he could no longer fight them, covering his ears as he sat on the dark ground, surrounded by his past companions.
“Silas, wake up!” A voice shouted, abruptly silencing the other voices as Silas’s eyes flew awake.
“Ah!” Finding himself away in an unfamiliar place, Silas awoke with a start. He gazed around, the clothes on his body having been replaced with delicate silk pajamas, his neck covered by a thick white bandage. Holding the side of the bed, Silas moved to the edge of the bed frame, his body barely able to move as it was racked with a searing, burning pain buried deep down to his veins. His throat burned, and he felt as if he would die without a drink of water.
Silas held his head in his hands, his head so dizzy, he was unable to stare forward as he attempted to walk. He had to lift his body twice before he had enough momentum to stand properly, his feet gingerly pointed forward, leaving him to stand pigeon-toed as he caught his breath, his face full of cold sweat.
Carefully, Silas lifted his heavy left foot and moved forward at a slow pace. His left leg bowed as he lifted his right, the strength threatening to leave his body. However, as his right foot was lifted, Silas’s toes caught on the bundled silk sheet at his feet. With a soundless scream, Silas closed his eyes, preparing to painfully hit the ground before a set of strong arms wrapped around his narrow waist.
“You’re up. You shouldn’t be moving.” Clarence held Silas’s unconscious figure against his chest, resting Silas’s head against the side of his neck, his arms wrapped tightly around Silas’s thin torso. His nose rested on Silas’s shoulder, allowing him to inhale the scent of the man that he had followed for ten years, the man he had gradually begun to love, desire, and wish to possess.
“Let go-” Silas wanted to struggle, but his body refused to cooperate, falling still in the young man’s arms.
Lifting his hand, Clarence stroked Silas’s hair, a smile lining his lips as he thought to himself with a content sigh, Now, not even time can come between us.
As Silas laid in Clarence’s arms, he noticed how dry his throat had become, even more so than before. Softly, he lifted his hands and touched the outside of his throat, touching the bandages with the tips of his fingers, his brain becoming nearly mad from the sensation of dryness plaguing his body.
Silas closed his eyes, his mouth dry as he pulled on the loose blouse covering Clarence’s chest, exposing the man’s sturdy abdominal muscles as he trembled, his body weak. His throat burned with such intensity, it threatened to turn to ashes. He needed something, anything, to soothe his unquenchable thirst.
“P-Please,” Silas began, his voice gritty, weak as if he were pleading, “Help me.” His hands were at his throat, trying to soothe the burning sensation of dryness with no avail. He could only rely on his past apprentice to help him now.
A small bottle of red liquid rested in Clarence’s hand, the cork still holding the bottle closed. Watching the man in front of him, Clarence used his mouth to pop the cork off, the smell of blood filling the air, tempting his master to move forward, his hands reaching out to grasp the bottle, tempted to inhale more of the tantalizing scent it held inside.
Silas did not realize what he was reaching for was a bottle of fresh human blood. The blood of his comrades.
“Be patient, master.” Chuckling, the young vampire held back the bottle out of Silas’s reach, the glass rim warmed by the surface of his lips. “I’ll feed you in a moment.” He lifted the bottle and poured the blood into his mouth, pursing his lips as he pulled Silas close and pushed his lips onto the other man’s parted mouth.
The two shared a kiss, the heavy red fluid entering Silas’s mouth through Clarence’s. With his parched mouth, his lips dry, Silas aggressively moved forward, sucking the young man’s lips with his tongue, attempting to clear any of the red liquid. His dry lips brushed repeatedly against Clarence’s, his eyes narrowed, shadowed by his greed for the red liquid. Holding the back of the older man’s head, Clarence smiled, using his tongue to lick a stray drop of blood from Silas’s growing fangs, his eyes burning red as the kiss deepened, the pair wrapped in each other’s arms.
After the blood had been consumed, Silas regained his bearings somewhat, the fog in his mind slowly receding as he stared forward blankly, his eyes falling on his treacherous disciple, smiling as though he had truly won in the end.
Realizing what he had done, Silas froze, his face contorting with fear. The green hue returned to his eyes as he pushed Clarence away with his hands, the newfound strength nearly too much for him to bear. Sliding backwards on his hands and feet, Silas began to gag, the blood staining the interior of his mouth with a delectable taste that made his teeth threaten to sharpen. He held his throat, clasping it with his hands as he coughed, attempting to wash the fluids out of his mouth with tears in his eyes. The breaths caught in his throat, causing him to wheeze aloud.
“Shh, it’s okay, Master.” Clarence stroked Silas’s head again, his fingers feeding through Silas’s soft blonde hair. “We’ll never be apart again.” His words were hoarse, the weight far too much to bear.
Fear, pain, and hunger soon overwhelmed Silas. Without warning, he fell unconscious, his heavy body falling into Clarence’s arms as the young disciple cradled his master in his arms, his gaze falling on his master’s face with adoration and lust. Using the tips of his fingers, he pushed back a loose piece of Silas’s hair behind his ears, his cheeks flushed. Lowering his head, Clarence smiled, his moistened lips brushing against his master’s forehead, transferring a bit of warmth to his body. The small Celtic cross around his neck brushed up against Silas’s, producing a quiet tinking sound.
“Come now, Master.” Slowly, Clarence stood up. “It’s time for us to rest.”
With a wave of his fingers, the roped drape holders fell to the ground in a collective motion, quietly thudding to the ground as the heavy velvet curtains rolled to a close, extinguishing the light in the room as the pair walked to the bed, the world silently closing around them, leaving only them.
…
113 chapters…. young Cat Masseuse would have died in joy, but this old bird is just ビックリ’ed. I’m sick right now, so it was a little tough to finish in time… my anniversary drawing will be done in time for next week though, I hope! Any thoughts on Clare as a vampire? Aha I made him a bit more aggressive here, but I guess it’s like he finally realized his feelings here vs the regular novel, where he’s still getting there >y<
Again, regular chapters will resume next week, including more on Alywin, Theo and his gang, as well as Silas and Clarence (I bet you guys can’t wait for that ;3). For now, I hope you enjoyed this extra (it killed my brain cells)! Had to dig deep for this, but it was a fun experience diving into things I don’t usually write 😀 This will leave no holiday extras though, just regular bad lads so we can progress more into the novel’s home stretch here!
Hunny, I still miss your assistance…! Thanks again all for reading! See you next week!
