Chapter Text
Neil Josten swore as he ran out of an alleyway. He clasped the straps of his duffel bag until his hand went numb, looking over his shoulder to see if they were still chasing him. He had been looking for a place to sleep and stumbled into a vampire den.
He could hear his mother cursing him from above for being so stupid. Neil had run out of holy water a few weeks ago and left his cross at his mother's grave. That's what he got for showing a bit of sentimentality.
A hand grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him back. "Get over here boy."
Neil looked around for any signs of escape. I can't outrun all these vampires. He thought he saw a shadow moving by the liquor store but dismissed the small flicker of hope. With his luck it was probably another vampire or worse: a demon.
He tasted asphalt as he was thrown to the pavement. Blood filled his mouth and dripped down the side of his face, warm and sticky in the southern heat. He laughed darkly as 8 more vampires surrounded him. Maybe they would kill him now and save his father some time.
"What's so funny boy?" The one holding him down growled as Neil received a sharp kick in the side.
"The fact that you didn't think you could finish me off on your own." Neil felt his father's smile appear on his face. "You brought 8 others with you because you're that inadequate."
"I will rip you to pieces and feast on your morsels. I will hang your liver on a pole for any other fool who thinks he can insult the great Charles."
Silver shot through the air in Neil's peripheral. It was a small knife that landed a few inches away from his bloodied hands. A short figure dressed in all black stepped through the door of the liquor shop. Whiskey on one hand with a seraph blade in the other. A shadowhunter.
Shadowhunters were the chosen warriors to protect this world from demons and to keep harmony and peace among all the other magical creatures, downworlders. His mother had told him that if any shadowhunter ever found out who he was, who his father was, they would kill him in cold blood.
"As entertaining as this may be I'm afraid I have to break up this small party." The shadowhunter took a sip from his bottle with one hand and gestured towards the group of vampires with the other. "Can't have any downworlders breaking the accords now, can we?"
"This doesn't concern you Minyard." Charles' grip loosened in Neil beck for just a second. "He started this."
Neil quickly glanced around him to make sure all the vampires had their attention on the shadowhunter. Then grabbing the knife, he thrust it upwards to Charles' heart. It hit its mark and the vampire holding him down, went down. All those years learning how to judge a person's position and how much force was needed to kill them paid off.
Ribs and muscles aching in pain, he grabbed his duffel and booked it. If he ran fast enough he might be able to make it to a church or maybe a bus. I need to get out of this town. Hopefully Minuard whoever's that was would distract the vampires long enough for him to get away.
"He killed Charles." One of the vampires gasped. "Get him"
Shadowhunter forgotten, the rest of the vampires quickly caught up to him. The first one grabbed him by the back of his shirt and flung him into a wall. Neil cried out in pain as he felt a crack along one of his ribs. Punches hit him in every place possible. I'm going to die here. Maybe it was for the best.
He gasped as one of them put their fangs into his neck. Blood ran across his neck and dripped in bloody streaks down his chest. "Do your job already shadowhunter." He choked out.
"Hmmm." The shadowhunter stepped a little closer. "And what would you give me in return?"
"Not even the mighty Andrew Minyard will bother to save this rat." One of the other vampires chuckled.
Neil's body became numb. Blood was leaving his body faster and faster.
Dizziness began to overtake him. "Anything. I'll give you anything."
Andrew grinned savagely and tossed the bottle of whiskey to the ground where it shattered into pieces. "That's what I like to hear."
He ran forward with a seraph blade gleaming in the pale moonlight as he cut down the first two vampires. After he had cut down 5 more he turned to the one holding Neil down and pulled out a knife. Neil had never seen someone use knives in such an effective way since he escaped his father 10 years ago.
When he was 8 his mother had taken him to run from his father, the butcher of Baltimore, a member of the demon worshiping group, the moriyamas. They worked with dark magic and sacrificed "weaker" humans to the demons. His father had been hunting him down for the last 10 years and was unlikely to give up because of the threat of some shadowhunters.
He could only hope Andrew Minyard and the rest of the Palmetto Shadowhunters wouldn't kill him for being affiliated with that evil group. His vision blurred and his head throbbed. The last thing he saw before he passed out were two golden wolf-like eyes staring at him.