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Scott remembered that there was a life prior to the one he had been living for the last couple hundreds of years. He’d been small, really liked bright lights and shiny things, could only eat leather (which had been unfortunate for a handful of reasons), and was essentially horrible in combat because there hadn’t been much armor his little body could handle wearing. That last trait was also the reason he died, as far as he cared to recall. There was a reason his last vivid memory of that life was of searing white-hot agony as the blaze slammed into him again before it all went dark.
But that was a long time ago. Now, he was stronger. Sure, that irritating sun made him weak and slow when it dared to even show itself. But at night? At night, he was king. He was quicker than any of the other origins around him, stronger too. Blood fueled him and he could very well mark you for death if you dared to cross him. Mortal weapons did little to actually hurt him (except those pesky wooden ones that none of the origins had thankfully found out about) and he liked it that way.
Being a vampire came with a few other perks. Mainly, intimidation. He’d been friendly before his premature end. After all, a moth can’t exactly do much to intimidate others. Especially if you have to look up at all of them. But then he died and now, as a vampire, intimidation was very much on his side. As he glared out his window at the stupid sun from his manor, Scott allowed himself a small chuckle at the thought.
Back when he’d first turned, a certain angel of Saint Pearl came by for a visit. Apparently, he had been testing out his new wings (a gift from his beloved saint no doubt) and Scott’s newly built material girl manor caught his eye. As the vampire had opened the door to see to his guest, he couldn’t help but notice that the angel’s blue eyes shifted around like that of a cornered puppy. The elegant man had to hold in a chuckle at such a powerful being being afraid over a mere house. After all, Scott hadn’t even done anything yet.
The two had engaged in some small talk, mostly over the new manor and Scott’s new abilities. The vampire couldn’t keep the grin off his face as nighttime approached, watching as the angel grew more and more nervous with each lost sliver of sunlight. With each step forward from the vampire, the angel stepped back. The brunette made sure to keep the distance between them for a while, careful not to let the silverette get too close.
Small talk had turned to awkward chuckles from Sausage as Scott went on about his new gifts from his origin. There was a comment about his red eyes which apparently the angel hadn’t noticed before (Scott remembered thinking about how Sausage had managed to completely ignore them up until then) and the vampire almost laughed. A few moments after some more chatting, things turned sour however. The damn angel had hurled “Angel Sausage Water” at him, with which the sheer audacity stunned Scott for a few seconds before he gave a hiss of indignation.
Shaking his head to bring him back to the present, the vampire geared up for what was to come later that night. That memory was hundreds of years old at this point but Scott still hadn’t forgotten that moment. He hadn’t even threatened the angel, just told him he was spooky. That moment had marked him for death. But even besides that small slight, Sausage had been nothing but a thorn in his side. A creature of night versus a creature of holy light weren’t bound to pair well together. At this point, it was basically routine. Neither of them would see each other for a while, then Sausage would foil a plan of Scott’s or Scott would drink from a devotee of Saint Pearl and conflict would arise again. But tonight would be the night that changed.
Over the past few centuries, the vampire had been training his abilities to make them stronger. And if he was being completely honest, he did have a favorite. His vampiric genes made it so that he could mark an entity and swap places with it at will. It would only go away if Scott wanted it to. His plan to rid himself of the pesky angel was almost perfect. By the end of the night, he would have a trophy to collect.
Underneath the shadow of the moon, Scott made his way to Sausage’s base. Seeing as the angel lived in a large village, the vampire had to search for a while. But he did have a small advantage as he swept through the rows of houses. A few centuries ago, he’d had the pleasure of getting ahold of some of the holy being’s blood. It was unlike anything he’d ever had before and the smell of it was still fresh in his mind. Because of that, he was able to locate the man.
Aw, how quaint. He thinks hiding in his precious church will protect him.
The place grew eerily quiet as Scott made his way up the path to the church.
“Oh Sausage.”
The fear emanating from Saint Pearl’s church flooded his senses by the time darkness reached the door.
“I’m in the church! You can’t come in, okay? Listen. You can’t come in. Vampires can’t go in churches.”
“You sure?”
Scott opened the door but did not yet step through. This seemingly gave Sausage some of his confidence back as he stepped out from behind the pulpit.
“See?! I knew it! Yep, I knew it! This is part of the handbook, the angel handbook.”
Yet the angel panicked as Scott stepped through the doorway, clearly unaffected by whatever holy thing Sausage thought was going to save him. A vial of holy water shattered at his feet in his hurried attempts to throw it at the silverette.
“Vampire demon!”
Scott let out a loud laugh that echoed harshly through the small church. “Oh Sausage~”
“NO!”
“My blood bank is looking a little bit low~”
The red eyed man stepped closer to the pulpit now, his sword firmly in hand as the sharp blue-green sword pulsed with a need for blood. The waves of fear were almost nauseating at this point. Scott didn’t care. Tonight, he’d come for blood. And by Sausage’s saint herself, he would get it. The angel was still cowering as the vampire made it to the front of the pulpit, furiously rifling through his inventory to see if anything could counter the being desecrating his holy place. A small gasp of relief was heard as he apparently found something.
“No- hold on! I’ve got- I’ve got some Ultimate Angel Sausage Water!”
The next thing Scott felt was a thin glass bottle shattering against his chest. A sharp, stabbing pain ripped through his body as he took a few steps back. For a moment, it hurt to breathe. He bared his fangs as he moved towards the pesky angel once more. Pearl’s champion had come out, determined to try and run from his imminent demise.
“Qrimbrōzagon aōha saint! That actually hurt.”
“Get outta here!”
But confidence turned once more to fear as Scott rushed closer, taking slashes at the man in white.
“Now I’m definitely gonna need some blood back, Sausage~”
“NO!”
With nothing to truthfully defend himself, the angel had little to do but scurry away from the blade so intent on killing him. But with his opponent being a creature of the night, Sausage stood no chance. It was only when he found himself backed into one of his sacred pews with Scott’s sword embedded in the wood next to him that he realized the level of absolutely fucked he was. Scott let himself grin so that Sausage could see the fangs as he made sure the holy being was trapped against the pew. Holding the ‘dead’ man by the wrist, his fangs dug into the juncture of the angel’s neck and shoulder. Heavenly blood pooled in his mouth as his prey struggled and squirmed beneath him. As the wet gold trickled down his throat, the pain from the potion eased up. It rejuvenated him, strengthened him. When he’d had his fill, he pulled away from the spot, leaving more blood to continue to trickle from the wound. The silverette licked his lips to clear away the blood, fangs still bared in a grin.
“Ondoso aōha saint, ao issi delicious~”
Sausage was still squirming in the hold, trying to get Scott to release him by pounding on his chest. Being as weak as he was from blood loss, the blows felt like air to the newly strengthened Scott. Still, the vampire’s grip eased up as a purple mark appeared on the back of the angel’s hand. He let himself get pushed away as the holy man looked at his new mark in horror.
“No no! What is this?! What do you have on me?!”
A grating laugh emanated from his opponent as the winged man scrambled for the door, stumbling as a slash from Scott’s sword landed on his back. Panic and his survival instinct took over as he cried, “No, get this off!”
He had just barely made it out of the church when Scott’s voice sounded close behind him.
“Oh Sausage~ You can’t run.”
The angel took off, confident in his ability to get away with his newly gifted wings. Scott could only shake his head in amusement as he too launched himself in the air. But the amusing scene was cut short as the vampire was hit with an overwhelming feeling of dread.
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When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer above Saint Pearl’s church. Instead, he was back in the End. But this was not his world’s End. The exit portal was smaller and encased with water as panicked shouts sounded around him. Looking around, he was surrounded by friends and enemies alike. Despair coursed through him as he looked at Gem- when did she get a wizard’s cloak- and Shrub- but she wasn’t a pile of smoke- and Katherine- when did she get a crown-then back at his hands. They’d failed. They’d failed to protect the dragon. Now nothing could stop the corruption.
The shouting continued as he forced himself to look at Jimmy. Stupid, ignorant Jimmy who expressly ignored his warning about the death of the dragon- when did he get taller- all because he wanted his stupid head back. But he forced down the hate and urge to yell and turned his attention to the real problem. Joey- not Shulk- and Sausage- he had a crown now too- had done this. Furious questioning commenced until Scott felt an overwhelming sense of fear that almost forced him to his knees. The prophet’s voice forced him to look up to see his brother standing on one of the obsidian pillars. His arms were outstretched with his head tilted back to reveal the frighteningly large horns that now protruded from his head. His voice echoed across the End as he turned to stare Scott dead in the eyes.
"Perfect… Now it begins…"
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High above the church, he brought himself back to reality. That wasn’t here, wasn’t one of these lives. It was another. But he was not that demon. At least not yet. Scott focused on the mark on Sausage’s hand. Tugging at the link between them, he found himself falling a small ways away from Sausage’s village. A sickening crunch was heard as the poor angel slammed into the ground, the death message on their comms confirming it. The vampire couldn’t help but laugh. With all the pain that damn angel had caused him, he hoped his last moments were as terrifying as that moment in the End. Scott smiled as he turned to make his way back.
“Ah yes. Clipping an angel’s wings. Fun.”
He gracefully made his way back to the switch spot, happy to find Sausage’s body almost directly next to the church. The thought of the devoted angel gracing his precious saint’s holy place with his own blood made the silverette shiver with glee. He was about to leave the pesky thing alone, but his pride begged him for another look.
“Ooh~ And I spy a trophy.”
A pool of blood had been left around the angel’s body, which wasn’t surprising, but the bloodied feathers around the pool commanded his attention. He picked up a few, ichor blood mixed with small bits of stark white. Scott smiled again as he began the journey back to his manor.
Let this be a warning to the others, he thought. It is not wise to mess with the king of the night.