Chapter Text
Moonlight drapes itself gently over the parked red Volkswagen SUV. A powerful gust of wind rustles the grass and the leaves on the trees — just like in any horror movie, heralding something sinister.
Curly, bleached hair lifts slightly in the breeze. Joonas Porco, a member of the vampire-hunting organization, blinks repeatedly. A gust flings a handful of dust into his face. He rubs the bridge of his nose and the corners of his eyes, clearing away the grime.
The last thing he wants right now is to be standing in a deserted suburb of Oulu, on a hill overlooking the sleeping city. He feels a pang of envy as he watches the light in the windows of houses dying out: normal people at midnight are either asleep or getting ready for bed, while he has to carry out his civic duty and destroy unholy creatures.
On one hand, he’s used to this schedule and sleeps through the day, but on the other, Joonas isn’t thrilled by solitude. Every single night, it’s the same routine: he becomes the bait, pacing back and forth in one spot, waiting for the predators to appear.
Tonight’s assignment surprised all five of them. Vampires deep in the woods? That’s something new. Usually vampires prefer to hide among humans, even making friends with them to avoid raising suspicion. These must be newly turned and inexperienced. They’ll be easy to deal with, the guys reassured Joonas before setting him up as the prey once more.
Porco leans against the car’s hood, gulping air. He still can’t believe they sent him on such a dangerous job. But Joonas handles weapons poorly, and someone has to play the bait. Besides, the guys repay him with drinks for the sacrifice, so he doesn’t complain too much.
Another rustle in the bushes behind the car — this time not caused by the wind or some small animal. And there’s the scent of blood in the air. Joonas knows it well. His eyelids suddenly feel weightless; he opens his eyes wide and doesn’t dare turn his back on the sound.
Through a clearing overgrown with alder sprouts emerge a female and a male figure. Ragged rags on both of them that wouldn’t be called clothing even by a stretch; their hair is as dark as the night sky, tangled, split, and dry as straw. Their hungry gaze is about to incinerate Joonas, who’s heated up from head to toe. Beads of heat drip down his face.
“At least I’m not cold anymore,” he mentally consoles himself, not daring to turn around.
He feels every vibration, every trembling of the ground. Joonas clenches his fists, his nails digging into his palms as if ready to pierce them. But the smell of blood will only make him more enticing to these already frenzied vampires — and then his chances of walking away unscathed will plummet.
One vampire is a broad-shouldered young guy in a gray denim jacket and worn Lee jeans. Beside him, a red-haired girl in a short red plaid skirt and fishnet stockings. A black leather jacket buttoned up to her chest glints with a silver zipper. Underneath, a faded pink T-shirt peeks out. She looks like a stereotypical early-2000s punk rocker.
“Young,” Joonas thinks. “No wonder they got bitten.”
Both vampires smile like children seeing their favorite candy. And Joonas dislikes that the candy is him — literally.
The vampires advance, baring their fangs. Joonas stands rooted to the spot, not out of fear but out of dedication to the job. His knees tremble, but if necessary, he’s ready to bolt.
Out of nowhere, four guys appear, guns aimed at the vampires — Niko, Olli, Tommy, and Aleksi. Joonas feels immense relief when his friends surround him. Not that he didn’t expect them — they were part of the plan — but for a split second, he feared they might be too late.
Niko fires at the denim-jacketed vampire; Tommy theatrically holds the girl at gunpoint, while Aleksi and Olli hurry to pull Joonas to safety.
Shielded by a cloud of blue-tinged smoke, Niko reloads his pistol and steps out from behind the powdery veil. A silver bullet strikes the vampire just below the heart. It doesn’t stop him entirely, but the shot slows him down. The creature staggers and lazily watches the blood trickle from the hole in his chest. Vilhelm readies the killing shot.
Suddenly, the vampire is blasted off his feet by someone — or something — moving at supernatural speed. No one has time to register what’s happening. A few teeth are knocked loose, flying across the clearing. A blood-soaked cowboy hat lands next to the vampire’s body.
The remaining female vampire only manages a snarl before silence falls again, broken only by the soft plink of blood droplets hitting the earth. The blur of speed coalesces into the shape of a young man, stopping a meter from the bodies. His light hair falls carelessly over a black windbreaker. Crimson rivulets stream from his pale lips, tracing his chin and dripping onto the ground.
No one except Aleksi and the unarmed Joonas keeps their gun aimed at this mysterious stranger. Aleksi’s hands tremble, and he drops his weapon.
The stranger curls his lips in a faint sneer, baring his teeth.
“Fangs,” Niko notes. For a moment he thought about putting his revolver on safety, but he no longer needs to.
The vampire turns to Vilhelm and snarls. Niko, as if hypnotized, continues to stare, unable to act. He feels he should do something, but his body won’t obey. The vampire sweeps his gaze over everyone present — agonizingly slowly — and extinguishes any dark thoughts the hunters might harbor. He doesn’t need to move a finger; he simply paralyzes their minds.
The fiery intensity of his eyes falls on Joonas, who’s shielded by the backs of Olli and Aleksi. The vampire’s stare lingers on him for reasons he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t sense anger or fear from Porco, unlike the others — only consuming curiosity. He feels his cheeks flushing; his pallid complexion makes any blush stand out, so he drops his head twice as fast as normal to hide his embarrassment.
He shakes his head to let his hair fall across his tinted with timidity cheeks, then looks at the hunters from under his lashes and asks in a haughty tone:
“You call yourselves hunters?”