Malik is a vampire hunter and the only thought on his mind is revenge. But he isn't an ordinary vampire hunter, Malik isn't human. He's a Dhampir, a cross between both human and vampire. Thus he posses all of the vampire's senses and strengths without the weaknesses. Little does he know, how wrong his beliefs as a vampire hunter and the grudge against his vampire father, are. And what a dark and dangerous future awaits him.
"Were you the one who killed her?"
A man’s shadowy figure crouched on the rooftop of a high building, muttering to himself as the low, painful cries of the person he knelt over rose up to meet him. His knee pressed sharply into his victim’s back, his hand gripped its arm, twisting it the wrong way. The creature was already pretty beaten up, slash marks and stab wounds covered its torso and its arms.
Dry blood created a rust-brown shine on the creature’s collar, as the shadowy man lifted its head, a pair of gleaming, white fangs shone in the moons's light. He frowned at those teeth, as though they mocked him from its mouth. As he sneered down at the vampire in his grasp, his own blood stained the concrete rooftop. The man glared, daring the vampire to give him a reason to strike.
He hissed, "Were you the one who raped and killed her?"
He hissed these words down at the vampire, each syllable dripping with hatred and venom. The vampire groaned, blood poured from its body. The hunter poised the stake right above the creature's heart. It knew death would be met easily, if it resisted. But curiosity, in its dying moments took over, causing the vampire to ask.
"Who…are you…vampire hunter?"
The man’s eyes burned angrily and connected his gaze with the vampire pinned beneath him. He hated their kind, for what they had done to him…to his mother. They had made him what he was. The man flashed a snarl at the creature and dug his knee into the vampire’s spine, making it cough and wheeze.
"Malik Delacroix." He said, his voice devoid of emotion.
He snapped its arm, catching the vampire before it had a chance to call out again. He smiled at the creature, staring it in the eyes. He drove the wooden stake deep into the vampire's chest, twisting it until the creature died, its face withered and turned to grey ash along with the rest of its body.
Malik stood up, wiping the still slick blood from his face and chuckling at the remains of the dead vampire. He pulled the stake from the pile of ash that was once its heart, he muttered once again.
"Were you the one who killed her?” His eyes shifted to the night sky as a soft breeze picked up, caressing his pale skin and bringing a curious scent. Tilting is head, his senses picked up something…another vampire. It was the second one to wander blindly into his path. The night was turning out to be quite productive. He peered over the edge of the roof.
His eyes met with the form of a young man on the street below. He was calmly wandering down the street and the sun wasn’t due to leap from the horizon for many hours, this brought a smile to his face. Quickly grabbing a blade from its sheath, he watched the male vampire and waited for the perfect moment to strike.
The vampire walked through the narrow street, blood fresh on his lips. He knew he had plenty of time, home wasn’t far away. The night was still young, and there were still many young victims. He was just about to turn the corner, when a noise stopped him. He froze, his eyes drawn upwards and met the sight of something falling…He stepped back as the object hit the ground and a cloud of ash engulfed him and most of the street around him.
He raised his hand to his eyes, shielding them from the dust. When it settled and cleared, the remains of a dead vampire were revealed. The male vampire took another step back, shocked at the sight. His gaze shot back up towards the building as he stood next to, desperately trying to figure out why he couldn't sense whoever was up there…and then it hit him.
A sensation he couldn't mistake. His hands shot to his belt for his guns, readying himself as the sensation moved. The vampire’s two silver Mark XIX .50 caliber Desert Eagles, glinted in the moonlight. He followed the vampire hunter, until he stood in the street with him, the vampire could feel him but he couldn't see him. He steadied his breathing, guns ready, mind ready as the low growl of the hunter’s voice echoed at him…taunting and chuckling.