Blood for blood.

 

That was the nature of wrath.

 

Each mar that was etched into Han Li’s skin, he was driven by a pure compulsion to return it two-fold. The world was dyed in red’s vicious hue, bleeding and blaring in its vibrancy. There was laughter in the air for each pained scream that carved into the nelapsi’s goo-like skin. And since physical damage wouldn’t last in the face of a vampire’s regenerative state and the blessing of immortality, Han Li had only the aching cries of the creature’s pain to drink from.

 

And so he did. He bathed in it. Sought joy from it, hungered for it like it was his life’s essence. Reason began to dwindle and he craved for only the suffering of the being that stood against him. Seiji’s katana had become an extension of his arm, a long prong-like object he used to slash and stab with abandon, seeking any possible way to deal damage, to cause pain.

 

But a nelapsi wasn’t so easy an enemy to quell, not even for a half-demon. Its retaliation tore into Han Li’s flesh and it made his bones creak, muscles strained. It was larger than him, faster and had strength that rivaled at least a speeding semi.

 

Still, Han Li did not feel fear and welcomed the thrum of battle, the vermilion flare of fire in his blood that demanded retribution—

 

Retribution for what?

 

He wasn’t sure. 

 

It didn’t matter—

 

The nelapsi charged at him, its gaping jaw snapping as it propelled itself forth on that giant, whip-like tail. Han Li twisted out of its trajectory and used the opportunity to slice into the vampire’s hide. 

 

His ears hurt from the sharp screeching cry but there wasn’t an opportunity to bask in the sweet lull of victory. 

 

Not when the nelapsi’s shoulder-blade collapsed in on itself before the bone underneath squelched, realigned. It took only an instant for the bone to jump out, protruding like another misshapen spear that lunged at Han Li. It caught the edge of his shirt and tore it from his arm. The friction was enough that he couldn’t escape the wide tail swipe in time. 

 

But instead of letting himself be swatted aside, he sank a clawed hand into the appendage, uncaring of the viscous goop that coated the surface of the nelapsi’s skin. 

 

Not enough, he thought, madness creeping as blood lust thickened. 

 

This much wasn’t enough—

 

He braced his stance, bearing the weight and force of the beast in his muscles and bones.

 

This much wasn’t enough.

 

He needed to flail flesh off bones. He needed to sever limbs and tear out organs. It was completely compulsive and he had little control over it, not when he was so far enraptured by the poison of his own blood. 

 

He wanted to feast till he was bloated. 

 

But the fun wouldn't last, it rarely ever did. And when madness subsided it would only inevitably transform into stone-like despair and regret. Han Li wasn’t there yet, but he would be at some point.

 

His thrill-seeking, blood-lusting streak was halted by a single shot that rang out through the air. The nelapsi collapsed instantly, writhing on the ground as it scrabbled for purchase. The monstrosity was a flailing mess, its flesh convulsing as it shifted forms, realigned muscle and bone with no clear image nor goal in mind. 

 

A silver bullet had pierced its skull, steam rose from bubbling flesh around the entrance wound. 

 

The first emotion that Han Li felt was the searing stab of rage, rage and more rage. Who would dare?

 

His gaze shot upward, glaring and desperate to identify the thief that might steal his prey on his turf. 

 

The thought did not last long. Not when air was soon saturated by holy energy; like a misty haze that enveloped the entire alleyway with its warm and gracious echo. A lowly unholy being such as himself couldn’t help but balk under its pressure.

 

Han Li gritted his teeth, grinding his fangs against his bottom lip till skin broke and he felt the itch to fight; knowing full well that whatever divine presence that loomed from the rooftops could smite him in a single swing.

 

A bright like flickered overhead before coming down like a shooting star. 

 

That was all it took for the nelapsi’s head to be severed from its large grotesque body. 

 

The body writhed, a broken cry left its deformed mouth but its regenerative power did not stir. Slowly, but surely the body flopped, movement reduced to twitching; its large physical body did not hold turned in a messy black, viscous soup.

 

Graham’s expression was calm, ethereal and with the glowing halo of light behind his crown, it was as though he was plucked from a renaissance painting. He looked upon his sword, where blood, blackened, stained the shining silver blade. The subtlest sigh left his lips but Graham’s expression was still one without emotion.

 

He flicked his wrist, the sword swung at a speed impossible to follow with the normal eye but Han Li thought that maybe it was because he was intoxicated from the thick veil of holy energy.

 

He was starting to feel faint.

 

It took Han Li a moment to register the sound of rolling, soft, wet squelches. The female vampire that had long forgotten about was lying upon the floor; her head too was severed. An outstretched claw reached toward Graham, as though groveling, begging, praying. Though her head had been severed, her lips trembled; her final words small and strained. “My baby…”

 

She was not for long, her remains dissipating into a wisp of dust.

 

Graham drew a cloth from his coat and wiped the blood from his sword. 

 

For whatever reason, this only served to anger Han Li further. His rage rallied without boundary. A sneer formed on his lips, his voice tinged with a growl, “Look who’s decided to show.”

 

“Han Li.”

 

Just his name was enough to make him see red. He lunged, katana raised, eyes glowing. He wanted blood.

 

The blade swung against the air. Graham was behind him completely calm and unaffected. His voice is equally stoic, “Where did you acquire that blade?”

 

“Is that what you care about? People died here tonight!” The words left out of his lips before the thought even fully formed.  Han Li chased after Graham with the sword, even if he knew that the blade would never strike true. It didn’t stop the wrath from building within and he considered tapping into that unbridled well of power that sat just below his belly; a hidden cache of demonic energy that had remained dormant all his life. 

 

At that moment, thought was relinquished. 

 

“Han Li.”

 

When he swung again, his wrist was caught in midair without much effort. 

 

Graham’s physical strength was not necessarily greater than his; he might be a Saint but his physical body was human. Still, Han Li could not for the life of him gain any advantage over the man. His muscles were locked in that particular instance, frozen by the sheer volume of holy essence enveloping his wrist. It made his body tremble but he didn’t want to back down.

 

Han Li was still mad.

 

“People died and it’s because of you!” He spat, vicious and roaring but Graham didn’t react at all.

 

Hahaha. Who was the real demon here?

 

A cough cut through the air, slicing through the brewing tension between Han Li and Graham Astely.

 

“Hey…” a voice croaked, despite being weakened by injury and dripping with pain it was still quite loud and audible. “Don’t just…kill me off yet. I’m too important…of a character…to die this early.” Another wet cough.

 

“…” Han Li halted. He had a hard time admitting to himself that his blinding rage wasn’t at least partially curbed. It was. Reason fast flooding back into his mental faculties. 

 

He ripped his wrist from Graham’s grasp. “Someone died because of you.” Han Li repeated with equal amounts of venom, reiterating the fact that his opinion has not changed. He turned on his heel and rushed over to Seiji. The idiot was barely sitting up, slumped against the brick wall. The redhead’s breath was short but he was conscious. 

 

“Stay awake,” Han Li ordered, trying to hide any signs of panic. “How are you feeling?”

 

A pained huff. Seiji stared at him, really stared. His unnatural blue eyes veered at Han Li’s clawed fingers before trailing up to his face, stopping at the place where fangs protruded from his lips. “Huh?” He seemed to be a daze from the blood loss, “That’s actually…kind of cool.”

 

“…” Han Li had no idea what the idiot was even referring to. “Hang on, I’ll get ahold of the authorities right now.” He rummaged through his pockets in search of his phone, scared for a moment that he had lost it in battle—

 

He kind of did. Cursing as he pulled it out. It was completely smashed. He might have thrown out the hunter-grade protection case when he handed in his resignation letter. 

 

Han Li almost jumped out of his skin when Graham’s presence was right behind him. “They will be here shortly. Meanwhile, I believe that it best you leave the premise. Your condition is notably worse compared to last time.”

 

Han Li couldn’t help himself when he snapped around, a fist went flying right at Graham’s face.