In the underground bunker, the air was thick with fear. Children clung to their parents, eyes brimming with tears. The elderly trembled, whispering prayers to a silent God.
Above them, the battle raged on. Clashing steel, splattering blood, and the savage screeches of Vampires echoed faintly through the fragile layers of earth and stone.
But in one dark corner, an old man sat motionless. Eyes hollow. Hands tightly gripping the necklace around his neck. A long, cloth-wrapped object resting in his lap. He paid no mind to the terror surrounding him.
Somehow, a few children had fallen asleep, leaning against him. Firelight flickered across his weathered face, and for a fleeting moment, his eyes reflected a distant memory. Perhaps… once, long ago, he too believed in miracles.
Then—
CRASH!
Screams tore through the bunker.
"Help me!!! AAAA!!!"
"He's too strong…!!!"
"Run—URGGH!!"
BOOM!
The door exploded like rotted wood. A black figure stepped in, holding a severed, dripping head. Blood pooled at his feet. He wasn't human. Wild platinum hair. Handsome, yet soaked in malice. Eyes red like blood. Worn black armor—standard issue from the Vampire Empire.
Jack the Butcher.
He entered, holding the head like a trophy. Then—
*SLURP… SLURP…*
He drained the blood in seconds. The head shriveled, skin clinging to bone. He tossed it aside, grinning.
"There you are… my little bags of blood."
His eyes swept the bunker. People curled into themselves, paralyzed with dread. He was a beast. A predator.
The air turned to ice. No one dared breathe. The children clung tighter to the old man.
The old man stared at the ground, jaw clenched. He gripped the cloth-wrapped staff tighter… but remained silent. The others dared not look at Jack. They only whispered prayers.
"Please spare us…"
"God save us…"
"Mercy…"
Jack chuckled. "Don't be afraid, tasty little blood bags."
He spread his arms like a twisted preacher. "In the name of Dracula—the Supreme King—I've come to take you in. You won't die… but you won't live as humans. You'll be livestock."
"The Blood Camps await. Rejoice in that honor."
"Now, praise my Lord… DRACULA!"
"LONG LIVE THE KING!"
People recoiled at the name "Blood Camps"—places worse than death. Where humans were drained day by day, discarded like trash.
Some trembled uncontrollably, stammering:
"Lo… long… li… ve…"
Only one man stayed silent—a young priest, eyes shut, still praying.
Jack turned slowly. His eyes locked onto the boy.
"Still hopeful?" he whispered. He approached like a predator. "Look at me, believer."
He lifted the priest's chin with a bloody claw. The boy quaked… but kept praying.
"I like you. Serve me well, and you won't suffer."
The boy's eyes lit up with desperate hope.
"Really?! You mean it?! Please take me! I'm so scared!"
Jack smirked.
"Oh? No more prayers to your God?"
The boy froze. Eyes wide. Sweat poured. The stench of urine rose.
SLASH!!!
A red blur. Blood burst like a fountain. His throat split open. He collapsed, choking, dying.
"AAAAAA!!!" — the room erupted in horror.
Jack roared with laughter. "God's not here. He won't save you. HAHAHAHAHA!"
"Now then…" — he turned to the door — "Soldiers. Sort my food."
Mid-tier Vampires poured in. The bunker became a slaughterhouse of fear. Faces twisted in glee. Wolves among sheep.
"So fresh. Smells amazing."
"Can we have a taste?"
"My Lord, may we?"
Three Vampires turned to Jack, grinning. Jack's eyes glowed.
"Go ahead… just don't kill too many." He paused. "Or… do. Hahaha!"
The helpless were plunged into despair again. Death wasn't a choice. The Vampires began circling.
One locked onto a dark corner. Two children cowered in an old man's arms. He licked his lips.
"I want that little girl."
The old man froze. A vision flashed—blood. A girl in crimson.
"ALIAAAAAA NOOOOOO!!!"
His jaw clenched. Hands tightened on the cloth-wrapped weapon. But he didn't move. The Vampire lunged, grabbing the girl's hair. She screamed, tears streaming. The others turned away in terror.
The Vampire bared his fangs.
"What'll you taste like? Don't die too fast!"
THUD.
The Vampire froze. A bony hand gripped his wrist.
Silence.
He turned—
The old man.
His hood had fallen. Firelight danced across his wrinkled face. A short silver beard. Piercing eyes. Torn, dusty clothes… a priest's robe.
He spoke. Voice low. Cold.
"Let. Her. Go."
The entire bunker went silent. All eyes turned. The people were stunned. The Vampires stared.
"An old man?"
"He's crazy?"
"A priest?"
Jack narrowed his eyes, intrigued. The Vampire yanked back his hand.
"You wanna die, old man?!"
He dropped the girl. Swung his mace at the old man's skull—
CLANGGGGGG!!!
Metal shrieked. The Vampire stumbled, missed.
Then—
RIP!
The cloth tore.
Everyone gawked.
A sword—not a staff.
A longsword, still sheathed, glowing faintly gold. Runes etched along its blade. The hilt bore the symbol of the sun.
In one motion, the old man ripped off the cloth and drew the blade.
*Shhhk!*
Golden light filled the room.
Then—
SLASH!
The blade cut clean through the Vampire's chest. He collapsed, eyes wide. Vampires could heal from fatal wounds—but this time…
"NOOOOOO… WHAT IS THIS?!"
His body trembled violently. The cut glowed. Flames burst from within.
"GHHAAAAAAA!!!"
Agonizing screams. Then—*FOOM!*—he turned to ash.
Silence. Wide eyes. Jaw-dropped humans. Vampires stunned. Jack's smile vanished.
"What… the hell…?"
Whispers erupted.
"He… he killed a Vampire with one strike!"
"Who is he?"
"Maybe… we have a chance!"
Hope flickered. People once hopeless now stared in awe. Jack growled.
"Kill him!"
Two remaining Vampires charged. Afraid—but obedient.
The old man didn't flinch. His eyes glowed golden. Veins shimmered across his face and arms.
They leapt—
SLASH! SLASH!
Two clean strikes.
BOOM!
The Vampires ignited from within, howling in agony. Their bodies shriveled into bone-white ash.
The bunker fell deathly silent. All eyes on the old man.
Then—
"YOU'RE AMAZING!"
"WE'RE GOING TO LIVE!"
"FIGHT ON!"
Cheers broke out. The fear vanished.
But Jack stepped back. Something was wrong. A cold chill crawled up his spine. A primal fear.
"RUN," his instincts screamed.
He stared at the blade—it felt like… the sun. Its light could burn souls. Sweat formed on his brow.
Then—
The golden veins on the old man's body glowed brighter… and—
"NGH!"
He stumbled. Clutched his chest. Blood dripped from his nose.
"Damn it…"
He knelt, sword as support. Jack's eyes lit up. The fear vanished.
"He's weakening… he's running out of strength."
A Commander-tier Vampire like Jack wouldn't waste this chance.
"DIE!!"
He dashed forward—
BOOM!
Everyone froze.
CLANG!
Jack froze mid-air. Time stood still. His body locked. Then—
"GHK!"
He staggered. Pain ripped through his chest. He looked down—
"What… the…"
A sword impaled his chest. The longsword. Jack gasped. Shaking. He stumbled, then collapsed to the ground.
CLANG.
The sword still glowed faintly in his chest.
Silence. No one believed it.
Then—
"WE WON!!!"
The humans roared. They screamed in joy, forgetting fear.
"WE'RE ALIVE!!"
Children hugged the old man, crying with relief.
But he said nothing. Just sighed. Slowly stood. The golden veins faded. Blood still dripped.
"Made it… just in time."
He gripped the sword hilt. Slowly pulled it from Jack's body. Blood sprayed. All eyes watched him.
Some cried, thanking him.
"You saved us!"
"You're a saint!"
"I knew it—you're a good man!"
But within the crowd… some whispered.
"It's him… isn't it?"
"That's just legend!"
"I'm sure—it's really him!"
"If that legend's true… he's the one who brought the apocalypse."
The old man's eyes dimmed. He didn't respond. Just sat by the fire, rewrapping the sword in cloth. As if trying to hide everything. Return to being a nameless old man.
But—
Wait.
Someone noticed something wrong.
"Wait… Jack's body…"
Everyone turned.
He was still there. But something… was wrong.
"Why… isn't he burning?"
A Vampire pierced by a holy blade should turn to ash. But Jack remained intact.
Then—
*TAP.*
A finger twitched.
Cold dread swept the room.
Fate… was still unfolding.