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The stickiness of the cobweb in his hand rubbed uncomfortably against his skin as he cut it down and gently placed it in his pouch, laying the threads carefully on the small, stacked traps he kept in it. Abolish flicked his jacket, making it cover the tools and pouches that clung to the back of his belt, and set off through the forest again, shears at the ready for when he came upon another web large enough to spread over the traps. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, ungloved for once since he was collecting the sticky fibres that would root into the fabric and be rendered useless.
He stopped beneath the branches of another cobweb-infested tree, looking up at the webs that tangled into the dying branches and leaves, an ashen grey against the overcast sky. He shivered, despite it being day, then took up the shears again, slowly and delicately trimming away the cobweb and placing it delicately on a new trap. The gossamer strands sparkled briefly before they were covered by the shadow of his pouch, buttoned over once the last one was replaced inside, now all primed and ready to spring open when triggered, casting the spider's silk into a net in the air and ensnaring any who got too close.
Abolish tugged on his gloves, a familiar movement that brought the snug fabric securely over his fingers, and began to jog back to town, using his right hand to steady the sword in its scabbard at his side. The daylight began to fade as he drew nearer to the town, the forest still smoking from the flames he'd set to it, running through the dense trees and setting them ablaze with a few practised strikes, sending showers of sparks onto the dry leaf litter and pine needles.
A faint smile crossed his face as he crossed the plains to go into the town as he felt the glare of the last of the sunlight on the back of his neck. He slowed near the gate, never breaking a sweat, and levered it open calmly, stepping through and shutting it behind him with a metallic clang. The voices of some of the townsfolk made their way to his ears and he forced the smile from his face, setting a blank, unreadable mask.
He knew he was something of a mystery to the townsfolk, a carefully guarded story they had yet to crack beyond his vague connection to an already-dead town. He'd set the character and controlled him from the moment he dismounted from the carriage, trekking into Oakhurst like the rest of the town, blending in as they met each other and familiarised, constructing a house alone and allowing no one inside.
It was a den, a brief safe haven until he was able to return to the manor and the organisation and nothing more than that. Across the town and between houses, he saw Martyn, Ren, and Legundo huddled in a circle, talking in hushed tones. He turned away almost immediately, hiding his face behind a sheet of black hair and fighting to keep a frown off his face, pressing his lips into a solid line.
He walked into his house and shut the door securely behind him, the bolt sliding into place before he retreated further inside, rounding the corner and sinking to the floor beside the furnaces. He let his head tip back and rest against the wood, closing his eyes for a second as he breathed, forcing every thought to slow until they were methodical steps marching through his mind.
The order of operations progressed slowly through his thoughts, steps of his plan ticking by in sequence until he reached the climax. He breathed out tightly through his mouth, forcing the stress and anxiety to leave his body with that single breath. He opened his eyes, coal black, almost lifeless eyes that barely reflected the light from the lantern he'd set on his crafting table.
Slowly, he let go of the tension in his limbs, allowing them to relax as he leaned his full weight into the wall, feeling the uncomfortable ridges of the wood behind him, unsmoothed by haste. Bitterly, he thought of the manor and of the people he grew up with and worked with. He remembered the smooth lacquer of the walls in the tight, dark closets he would retreat to after long sparring sessions.
With a sigh, he squashed the thought of just wanting to leave and let all of them fend for themselves. No, he'd come here for a reason, knowing that he would have to fight vampires at some point. He moved his hands through the micro motions as he repeated to himself: just a few more days. His hands tightened into fists on his knees as he let out another tight exhale. The weeks would no longer drag by, not when his final string had snapped. No, a vampire would die tomorrow, Abolish was sure of it.
A vampire would die tomorrow and they would be forced to starve or cease fighting.
A rogue thought meandered into his head, wondering when he'd gotten this way, where he turned to be so cold blooded. He shut it down immediately and went back to organising his thoughts, eyes tightly shut as he set each one in line. Questions had never saved anyone, he'd learned. It was best to follow through and not look back. He'd learned that from the beginning. Looking back only made one miss what was and what could have been. It was never productive.
Again, the thought came through, disrupting his neat lines of switches that acutely turned off the emotions he felt within his body. It asked when he became more machine than man, working until he dropped, something he had yet to do. Abolish huffed and tamed his anger, dragging it back into place with an iron grip. He was the way he was out of need, out of necessity. Being relentless, a never-ending force that would tear through opposition with barely an extra thought, was crucial to himself and his nature. It made him what he was: a Veylocke, born to help lead the world to a better place, and to kill the ones who refused.
A muscle cramped and he bit back his yell, gritting his teeth and slowly pushing himself to his feet. He reached into his pocket and brought out the battered tome he collected, going to stand in a different corner to relieve the pressure. He leaned against the wall and looked again at the words on the cover, a gloved finger tracing over the letters as he settled the last of his thoughts, his mind smoothing over into a flat plane, ready to receive whatever knowledge the book contained.
With a deep breath, he turned through the first few pages and began to read, each word going smoothly to a new slot in his memory. They fell into place easily, the Latin phrases building and restructuring as he learned their innate meanings that would allow him to utter the cantrip. Abolish didn't believe in magic, but he was acutely aware of a supernatural power scrutinising his every move and utterance.
It didn't help every time he called upon it, but its presence was always looming over his head. He'd known it since he was a boy, coming and going from the church orphanage every day to train. He knew the energy and drive it gave him, a relentless churning for justice and revenge against the evil creatures that had caused his parents' deaths. He kept his reasons for killing in neat, explainable lines, never crossing them, never leaning away for mercy.
Mercy, pity, and concern didn't have a place in his world. It had always been defend or die, kill before they could kill him. He bode his time, as instructed, but the Veylocke always locked in, struck, and won before he could be killed. He let the locals deal with their threat before he stepped in and neutralised what they couldn't stop. It was systematic, familiar, and just another procedure to follow. Wait until the string snapped, then he moved, killed, and ended whatever threat to humanity still remained.
Abolish snapped the book closed, having finished skimming through its texts. Quietly, he said the words, feeling how they registered with the being that followed him with its chants for justice and vengeance. He blinked and banished the momentary rush of adrenaline from the cantrip, then threw the book into his furnace and lit it on fire for its contents to be lost to the ashes.
Muscles cold and sore, he grabbed the ladder on the far end of the room and climbed upstairs. He took off his belt and pouches and set them on the floor beside his bed, leaned his sword against the wall in its scabbard, and laid down on his bed, neglecting the covers. Abolish closed his eyes and slept fitfully, dreaming of nothing but the blood he would spill in the new day.
Abolish pressed his back to the cold deepslate tiles, one hand resting on the pouch of traps, the other clasped around the hilt of his sword, steadying it as he leaned around the corner into the castle courtyard, senses attuned to the minute rustling of clothing that could betray an invisible vampire to him. The hooks that held his axe on the strap he had slung around one shoulder and his neck, steadied by the balance of the weapon, dug into his flesh as he tilted his head to the side, still listening for fabric and footsteps. Hearing none, he slipped his shield onto his right arm and tightened the buckles so it would stay in place without much effort.
He felt eyes on the back of his head and brushed them off. The familiar weight of the spirit that haunted him failed to get to him now. He narrowed his eyes as he moved through the shadows to the pens of cattle and sheep they kept in the castle, left hand wrapping around the hilt of his sword and prepared to draw it in an instant. He made it to the cow pen and leapt over the fence with ease, landing in the churned up soil with a faint thump.
He cascaded into motion, drawing his sword fluidly and slashing it through the throats of the beasts in front of him. The ones he'd nicked lowed, a pained sound that was far too loud on his sensitive ears, open to the faintest of sounds. He grit his teeth and struck again, driving his blade through the massive veins and arteries that lead to their heads, leaving precious blood to spill out and soak into the soil.
A shower of sparks from his flint and steel lit their corpses on fire, searing the meat and drying the blood running away in rivulets, rendering it useless. He moved on to the sheep, allowing the pen to blaze behind him and keeping his shield as a wall between him and the heat, repeating the process and draining their bodies of blood with clean cuts. They burned, too, a funeral pyre to his patience and willingness to play the long game. He'd waited long enough. It was time to strike back and strike hard, leaving no opening to retaliate.
The vampires had burnt the walls of Oakhurst. That was fine. It wouldn't affect what he had to do today, although it would make home far less safe. He scratched out 'home' with deep gouging marks the moment the word crossed his mind. No, it was a base of operations and nothing else. He'd never have a home, not after the last one. He knew it was vampires who had killed his parents and destroyed his home. Now, he was coming after them in turn, just as lethal and damaging to make up for the evil they'd committed.
Clucking came from the back corner of the courtyard, betraying the location of a buried flock of chickens. He killed them without a second thought, watching the blood spray over the sides of the dirt walls as he swept his blade through the narrow space.
He snarled as he beheaded the final chicken, leaving the body to run over those of its compatriots in the hole he'd found them in, then set that meat on fire, too, adding chips of wood to ensure those carcasses burnt beyond recognition. He left the courtyard after that, flicking ashes and embers off his suit as they leapt from the flames to try and catch on the fabric. Before him, the shadow of the main bulk of the castle loomed, casting shade over the rapidly lightening courtyard.
Shelby appeared in the entrance: first confusion, then fear spreading across her face. She backed away, then turned and ran as Abolish sighted her and sprinted, crossing the courtyard in a few pounding strides. He slashed her with his sword, scoring a strike down her back that quickly began to bleed, red spider-webbing through the back of her dress.
"What are you doing?!" she cried, leading him around toward the dark oak doors in the side of the keep.
Abolish barked his newly learned Latin phrase with authority and she froze in place, a statue of movement, bent forward from pain and desperation. "Just taking care of stuff," he said, almost casually, if it weren't for the pounding of the blood in his ears, nearly disguising the barely perceptible chant of the spirit haunting him. She twitched, the holy word beginning to wear off as her body struggled back to a neutral position, blood weeping from her back.
Rapidly, he sprang his cobweb traps, placing them on the ground and watching them cast their sticky nets over her. He stepped in again, sheathing his sword and drawing his axe from the hooks on his back, taking the time to settle its handle nicely in his grip. He raised it above his head and swung, the silver blade sinking deep into her side. She screamed, and Abolish hissed as he heard voices beginning to approach them, knowing none of the townsfolk were near the castle.
"I haven't done anything," she pleaded, tears beginning to stream down her face as he pulled away, raised the axe, and struck again, forcing her to her knees. She screamed again and the voices got louder as he wrenched the axe away, putting its bloodied blade behind him in its place.
Abolish nodded, fixing her with a cold stare. "I know," he said simply, then lunged, grabbing her shoulder and pulling a stake from his belt. The motion was practised, designed to draw, strike, and plunge the wood into the vampire before their claws and teeth could find his throat. Already, he could see her body working to put itself back together, the blood-borne regenerative ability of the vampires coming into play. He thrust forward, driving its point toward her chest.
Shelby screamed and grabbed his arm out of desperation, stopping the point as it pressed into the fabric of the front of her chest, pushing back at him with a faint, desperate strength. "No!" she shouted. "Please, Abolish. Please don't."
Abolish growled, deep in his throat, as he looked at the way she gasped for air around tears, her broken and bloodied chest hitching as she fought against his downward pressure. Coal-black eyes found uncut rubies, his cold and dull gaze searching hers, looking beyond the pain and tears. He saw the way her eyes flicked from him to the stake, tracking an erratic pattern that matched her strained breathing. He redoubled his pressure, bearing down with his fist, clenched around the stake.
Shelby renewed her efforts, pressing back stronger as she slowly freed herself from the tangled and sticky threads. Abolish found himself backing off, still unable to remove his eyes from hers as he swept a leg under her, knocking her off her feet. He lunged again with the stake, trying to burn her with the force of his gaze. She fought back against him and he found a spark of admiration for her desperate hope before he crushed the emotion with an aggressive stomp, using the momentum to press in harder.
He pulled himself away seconds before Scott landed behind him, claws slashing at his back. His scowl deepened as he was forced away from Shelby, using his shield to deflect some of the elder vampire's attacks. He shoved the stake back into his belt as he grabbed the handle on the inside of the shield, steadying his grasp on it as he retreated. The tool went from a wooden plank to a staunch defence,
The heavy blows scored deep gouges down the front of the shield, tearing through the banner pattern Martyn had stretched there moments before handing him the device. Abolish drew his sword, using it to parry Scott's attacks, the sharp and honed edge hacking at his flesh until it was bleeding more than it was regenerating. Abolish glanced at Shelby, noting how she was fighting to be free from the webs and how her wounds were sealing over, leaving raised, white scars beneath torn fabric. He took a final swing at Scott, driving him back toward the inferno that lit up the courtyard, and dashed for the doors into the keep, breaking them open and sprinting around the corner.
He ran past through the front halls, each breath measured and controlled as he shouldered the front door to the castle open. Apo startled at the sight of his bloody figure, steeped in animal and vampire blood, and took a step back, looking over Cleo's shoulder as he came their way.
"Hi. Bye," was all he said as he ran past, wiping his sword on the inside of his suit jacket and sheathing it again. He could hear their exclamations of surprise as he leapt the first gap in the bridge, barely slowing before he came to the narrow wooden slats that connected the next pieces of broken, crumbling stone. His gloves were spattered with blood, so he stripped them off and discarded them, more out of habit than necessity. This suit was nearly ruined, anyway, but a new one awaited him in the bottom of the satchel he'd thrown unceremoniously into a chest.
He slowed as he reached the thick of the burned wood, pausing only briefly to take a cold baked potato out of his pocket and eat it, swallowing it quickly and pushing aside the discomfort as he began to run again, taking up his light and consistent jog. His face was fixed in a frown as he ran, eyes narrowed and focused on the path in front of him. He cursed himself under his breath. Shelby had been right there, beneath his stake, an easy target had he retreated and committed. Yet, he'd hesitated, taking the time to find her eyes and question why he should let her live.
The vampire hunter cursed sharply as he stumbled over a tree root, exposed by the fires. He righted himself and pushed onwards, forcing his thoughts to move in time with his steps. He leapt over a boulder and forced the same amount of white stillness to take over his mind until he hit the ground again, still running.
The thought from the previous night returned, asking why he did his duty, why he persisted in killing those who refused to follow. He forced it down angrily, biting it in the bud before he had time to dwell. He'd killed more times than he cared to count, at this point. It was always the bad vampires and their consorts, of course, but their numbers stretched further than any in his organisation was willing to admit.
Coldly, he turned off each emotion, swiping at his eyes when Shelby's pain-filled, tear-stricken face crossed his mind. He stumbled again, this time over a rock, as he began to approach the town, slowing as he reached the rubble that now made up their walls. He placed one hand on top and vaulted over, dusting the charcoal off his palms as he came to an abrupt stop, forcing himself to almost march back to his house.
He paused before entering the building, reminded of the singular question every vampire asked before stepping into a home. He wondered if it would be different since he considered this to be no more than a base, then brushed the thought aside, knowing that the mere desire for privacy exuded by the residence was enough of a repellent.
A voice stopped him as he laid his hand on the silver doorknob, prepared to twist it open and slam the door shut behind him.
"Abolish!" Legundo called, waving to him from beside the tower that protected the Town beacon. Abolish raised his shield arm and waved back before returning his attention to the door, pushing it open and stepping inside. "Abolish," Legs called again. "A word?"
Abolish eyed him suspiciously from where he stood, half hidden behind the door. He caught a sudden flashback to his childhood—to games of hide and seek that lasted beyond his bedtime, before his parents were slaughtered—and choked it where it stood, shoving the memories away behind the thick walls he kept in his mind.
"Sure," was all he said in reply, opening the door further and reaching over to undo the straps binding his shield to his forearm. "What's up?"
"First of all," the doctor began, looking him up and down, "where have you been?"
"At the castle," he replied simply, blankly. Mentally, he filled in the scene like it was a report, rapidly summarising what he'd done. "I killed all their animals and got Scott low, then ran out."
It was Legundo's turn to look suspicious, raising an eyebrow at the young man's words. "Is that all? You look more…" He trailed off, searching for words as his eyes ran over his body, taking in the splatters of blood that marred his garments and his gloveless, unmarked hands. His eyes settled back on Abolish's face, making eye contact as he continued: "Haunted than usual."
Abolish waved him off, dropping his shield against the wall and taking his axe off his back. He held the weighty silver weapon in both hands and looked at its bloody blade, eyes tracing patterns in its drying streaks as he said, "And I almost killed Shelby." He shrugged, as if to dismiss it, ignoring the horrified look that was spreading across Legundo's face. "I didn't, though, so there's her we still have to deal with."
Legundo shook his head in disbelief. "Abolish, you could've been killed," he reprimanded, settling on that instead of describing the warring emotions Abolish could see clearly written on his face.
He shrugged again. "I wasn't," he said simply. "It's just part of my job."
"Abolish, who are you?" Legundo asked, forcing the words through gritted teeth.
The vampire hunter turned on him and fixed him with a glare. "I told you who I am," he snapped. "It's as simple as that."
He stalked deeper into his house, picking up his shield by its rim and taking it to his workstation in the back. Legundo followed him as he searched his chests, finding the cloth he used to clean his weapons and beginning to remove the blood from his axe and polish it. The doctor leaned against the wall as he sat down to work, leaning against the table as he brought the silvery sheen back to the blade.
Legs sighed as he watched Abolish move through the familiar motions. "They aren't monsters, Abolish," he said finally, causing the other to look up sharply. "Sure, they may do bad things, but that doesn't mean you should just straight-up kill them! Give them a chance."
Abolish scoffed, returning to his work. "I've given them a chance for the past seven weeks, even though I've wanted to leave every day since I arrived."
"Still, Abolish. Shelby? She hasn't done anything wrong."
Abolish grit his teeth and stopped his work, hands tightening over his weapon, his knuckles whitening. "So?" he asked, trying to appear indifferent. "It doesn't matter. Their group needs to be stopped; it's as simple as that."
The doctor shifted, crossing his arms the other way as he stared at the wall across from him, organic eye fixed on the wooden planks. "Is it really, though?" he asked softly, almost thoughtfully. He pressed his lips together as Abolish slowly returned to his work, bringing out his sharpening stones and beginning to run them methodically across the edge of the blade. "What if we gave you a chance?"
The vampire hunter snorted and shrugged. "If you give me a chance, then you let me do my work and you don't get in the way." He stopped his sharpening and inspected the blade, waiting for Legundo to fill in the silence. When he didn't, he continued, "I've weakened them and cut off their main food supply. Killing Shelby would have been an added bonus, even if she wasn't my main target. All in all, we should be in a good position to take over the rest of the beacons and defeat them, even if they aren't down a vampire."
He finished inspecting the blade and threw it into the floor, the strength of his blow, from his limited position, lodging it deep into the wood, casting splinters and wood chips into the air. "I'm done playing games, Legundo. It's time I get to work so I can go back to normal."
Legundo pushed off the wall and came to stand over him, just out of reach of the axe. Abolish clocked his movement, then shifted to the side so he could draw his sword, beginning to repeat the process of cleaning and sharpening the blade. "That's not what I'm asking, Abolish. I'm asking what would happen if you let yourself be just a regular human for a bit. If you left the mines and joined us for a drink in the tavern. If you stopped sharpening your weapons and came to cook with me in my house." He took a deep breath and a step closer. "I'm asking you to take a break."
Abolish stared at him blankly, the thoughts running behind his eyes. He blinked a few times, then shrugged and returned to his polishing, avoiding looking at his bloodstained reflection in the blade. "I'll take a break when this is over," he said, his words pointed and sharp. He put down the cloth and took up his sharpening stones again, angling the blade across his knees and dragging the stone down the length of the blade with a resounding ring. "This is war, Legundo—" Another long note of stone on metal sang out— "I don't have time for breaks."
"And I've been in a war," Legundo said, crouching in front of him. He rested a hand on top of Abolish's, stopping his motion and staring into Abolish's eyes. The vibrant green stood as impassively as the doctor's face, with only a short flicker showing any emotion he might have. "You can afford this rest, Abolish."
Abolish looked at the long bayonet scar that stretched across his face, cutting through his eye. He switched his focus back to the doctor's eyes, watching the effort he put into keeping his face straight, although the corners of his mouth kept twitching upwards like he wanted to smile reassuringly.
"I really can't," he said finally. "The fight's almost over, and then I can go back and rest, train, whatever."
"Then I'm not saying this as a friend anymore, but as your doctor." Legundo grabbed his wrist and pulled him with him as he stood, grimacing as his aged joints popped when he straightened. "You need to take a break, and that's going to be at my house, where I can watch you and make sure you eat something for once."
Abolish re-sheathed his sword, handling the blade in a controlled motion, despite his dominant hand being trapped in Legundo's grip. "I eat," he said shortly. "And I don't need to take a break." He twisted his arm and freed it, with a small amount of resistance from the doc. "I've pushed myself before, and I'll push myself again. I don't need you—" he jabbed a finger at the doctor's chest, pushing him back— "to judge that for me."
Legundo shook his head and grabbed Abolish by both shoulders, shaking him slightly as his fingers dug into his muscles, ignorant of the dried blood crumbling off the fabric of his suit. "How long have you been fighting, Abolish?" he asked calmly, quietly, with a hushed and intense force behind the words.
The vampire hunter froze minutely, then forced himself to relax, banishing the shock sparked by the question from his face. "Years," he said flatly. "Since I could remember, honestly. And I've been fine. I've kept it together."
"Abolish, you need a break," Legundo reinforced, with the same quiet intensity. His voice broke slightly as his grip tightened, bringing a stiff and unwilling Abolish centimetres closer to him. "You need to be a kid. A young adult. A—whatever. You can't keep working until you drop."
"I haven't dropped," he snapped back, reaching up to push the doctor off of him. His hands stopped on Legundo's, suddenly robbed of their strength. "I haven't dropped," he repeated, furrowing his brow, like it could fend off the intense, caring stare Legundo was giving him, digging into his walls.
"You've been fighting since you were a kid," Legs said softly. "I'm impressed that you haven't."
A part of him stopped. Abolish stared at the doctor, his face moving through expressions as he replayed those two words in his mind. "I'm impressed," the doctor had said, with the same quiet force he'd been using to push across his meaning. He blinked and mentally scrubbed his face of emotions, looking again at Legundo's face to attempt to take apart his words. The doctor was smiling slightly now, the corners of his mouth lifted, shadowed by the pepper grey stubble that was growing in.
He dropped his gaze to his feet, focusing on the axe blade still lodged in the floor that he had yet to pick up. "You're what?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically small. One hand moved, like he was going to pick up the weapon, only for his stooping motion to be stopped by the doctor's solid hold.
"I'm proud of you, Abolish," Legundo whispered, the words hanging in the air like pieces of raw silver, unprepared and calloused, tarnished and heavy in the weight and blood that surrounded the young man.
Those words caused a dam to break, deep in his chest, causing a mix of emotions that tasted like salt and water and old blood to rush through his body. They hurt, twisting and pulsing, as they moved through, rushing through his limbs and head. He fell forward on shaky legs and the doctor caught him, moving to support him and hold him upright as he pressed his face into the collar of the doctor's coat, stubbornly holding back tears. He blinked, once, then twice, feeling the wetness begin and spread through the fabric beneath his eyes. His shoulders shook, steadied by the weight of one of Legundo's arms coming across them and resting over them in an embrace.
"You're what?" he asked again, voice muffled and cut up by his tears. He brought his hands up to return the doctor's hug, nowhere near as strong as the crushing, steady hold keeping him upright. He found the strength to stand on his own again, but kept leaning, pressing into Legundo, silently asking the doctor to stay.
Legs sighed, trailing off into a breathy chuckle. "I'm proud of you, Abolish," he repeated, his chest resonating with his words.
Abolish finally let a wave of tears come, cutting them off as he felt them soak into the doctor's coat, although Legundo showed no sign of noticing. He choked on a breath and continued to press his face into the doctor's clothing, hands tightening on Legs' shoulders, spotless beside blood-spattered sleeves. He felt Legundo rubbing small circles with his hand into his back and his chest hitched, because the last break he had he'd spent it covered in paperwork, trying to make it through and detail why—
It didn't matter.
It didn't matter.
It didn't matter what any of his past missions looked like. Abolish took a deep breath and exhaled into Legundo's shoulder, feeling the heat of his breath as he blew out. He could breathe. He was okay. He didn't have to be the only creature killing for good.