Chapter Text
Tony was thirteen when he saw his parents die by vampires. It was winter, like any-other day in the village they had lived in, and Tony had come home from running a few errands for his parents. His hands had been freezing, and the long feeling of warm fire next to his fingertips had gotten him excited to come home. However, when he reached the gate of the steps to his house and noticed the door slightly opened. That feeling drifted off into something of fear and anxiety-filling.
His steps had begun to get slower in pace, and furthermore when he had reached the door, his fingers brined lightly around the base of the door. He peered into the familiar kitchen-opened room, the fire that was once lit, was now emptied and gone. Letting the cold interior of the home fall with winter breathes and peddled winter snow. Tony placed his steps carefully on the wood floor, calling out to his mother and father. No voices came. His worry had risen into dread. He wasn't gone for long, surely nothing could have happened. No, his mother and father were just out, getting more fruits and vegetables for the stew. Yeah, that was it. This was just a misunderstanding. And they would be back home any minute now.
...
But that wouldn't explain why the stew was still bulling, why the door was left open, why his parents laid dead with tear-filled eyes and how their blood covered every inch of the room they died in. Tony didn't forget the look his mother had. Her beautiful eyes were glossy in color, and her mouth gaped slightly open in fear as the last thing she would ever do was scream out in terror. And his father. His expression was tiresome as he spent his last moments trying so desperately to protect his faithful and loving wife from vampires. Tony remained still in shock, only noticing the two perfectly aligned holes in his mother's neck.
Tony came to a realization; that this would be the day he would murder every single goddamn vampire he would come across. Because they killed the only thing that mattered to him, his parents. And that night, when he slept in a bed that wasn't his, he dreams of killing vampires had escalated into something of truth. As his first vampire killing happened when he was fifteen. Watching their screams and their terror filled-eyes slowly fade as their bodies froze still in the light gave him reason. Another hope. Another thing to live for. He was destined for this. And like hell was he gonna ever stop till every single vampire was dead by his hands.
----
Rudolph gripped down on the roof of a home. His hands tightened, palms and feet sticking onto the surface. He stared as his brother came from the house's doorway, a residue of blood pursed on his lips. Rudolph also acknowledged the warm blood that caked around his fingers and hands. He knew full-well what his brother had done. What he did to that couple. Those screams of that woman, her eyes twisting in agony and horror as his brother bit into her neck, sucking her dry. Rudolph couldn't stand being there like that. He knew it was something they did to survive, and that one day he would do the same, but just standing there. Seeing the last moments of this woman's cries and pleas being sucked away as her face went pale, was something Rudolph couldn't handle.
He looked away from his brother; not wanting to stare at his blood covered mouth any longer. Gregory wiped his lips clean with his sleeve, releasing a gentle sigh. "That was wonderful, you outta' give it a try, little brother." Gregory jabbed Rudolph carefully in the arm, a light laugh coming from him. Rudolph remained silent. He wasn't in a laughing mood, and Gregory picked up on this. Which was why his next words turned from being humorous to stern and dismissive tone.
"Really, you are gonna be like this? Come on, you know this is something we need to do. It's in our nature."
"Well, maybe I don't wanna be apart of this . I'm only 300 years old and--"
Gregory cut him off, placing a hand on his shoulder to stall him from talking. "What are you saying? Are you telling me you don't want to be a vampire?"
Rudolph pushed his hand away, shooting up from his sitting position. "No!- It's just I wish there was a better way to do this. We can't keep killing people. It isn't right!" Rudolph had bared his fangs out. Not realizing that his hands and nails sharpened as they clawed towards his brother. However he wouldn't be able to notice as he and his brother heard a twig snapping. They both took shelter, peering over the side of the roof to look at what caused the noise. It was a boy, a boy with bright blond hair and blue eyes like lapis stones. They watched the boy make his way to the entry of the home. Rudolph felt a pit in his stomach. He felt sick at the thought they had just orphaned someone, but while he felt dreadful and ill'd by the thought, Gregory had another idea in his mind. He licked his lips, crawling his way on the roof, he was about to float into the home once more till he felt a tug on his shirt.
He turned to his little brother. Who just simply shook his head. Rudolph didn't want to see another person be killed, let alone a kid like him. Gregory yanked his arm away, scoffing. His expression turned cold then to something of humor, he only gave a pity-filled laugh. "Fine, just this once, little brother. I see you want to date the young sparrow. Don't worry-" Gregory floated beside Rudolph, he gave him a grin, whispering into his ear as they passed. "-I won't tell father or mother."
Rudolph flashed him a frown. He stared back at the home, his ears could hear nothing. but it didn't take a genius or a vampire, to know that what the boy saw would be burned into his mind for all his mortal life. No scream or tears will ever describe the destruction of what he saw.
It has been around four years after the killing of his parents. Tony is seventeen and he hasn't forgotten or forgiven what happened to them. He won't stop till he hunts down the vampire who killed his mother in cold-blood. Who orphaned him. Who left them to rot like some animals. Words or actions can't ever take them back. But what can, is honoring their deaths by killing the perpetrator. The most immoral thing has already happened. What matters now is getting their justice. "Soy el fuego que arde tu piel."
"I am the fire that burns your skin."