Breaking away from Amy, Vincent staggered out. His nails had elongated once more, becoming deadly blades able to rend bone and flesh alike. The Samson look-alike just grinned, gazing into the voids that were Vincent’s eyes, beautiful and terrifying much like her own golden-ringed eyes.
“Scared? I assure you, the corpse back there is genetically and spiritually identical to me in every way. Well, if you’d look back, you’d find that it’s gone,” the Samson look-alike told Amy and Ruby. Amy looked back, happy to not see the field of corpses.
And, as the woman had told them, the corpse had disappeared, only some blood and bullets remaining. Amy turned back. What was it that they were facing?
“Allow me to introduce myself,” the woman told them, grinning amusedly as if it was all a game. A sadistic, cruel game. “Samael.” The moment that she’d said that name, Vincent paused, the name registering somewhere deep within his memories. 'Stay away.' Lanced through his mind, but he wasn’t going to be deterred, continuing a moment later.
Amy and Ruby, figuring that it was just a moniker, weren’t deterred by the name.
‘Probably just someone able to make illusions,’ Ruby thought, pulling out her handgun again and loading it. That didn’t dismiss the corpses that laid around the woman, no less threatening. She’d only seen that amount of dead bodies in books on war, with mass graves such as the ones the Nazis had created.
Coming closer, Vincent felt that burning in his veins again, clenching his teeth as he stumbled more before righting himself. No time for that. His desire was only to kill this ‘Samael’. If he had taken irreparable internal damage, so what? He’d healed from everything before. And Samson, Samael, had put him through it.