Capítulo 2: The Damned
Callista knew.
It wasn't an earth-shattering knowledge, just a feeling, a prickling on her skin. Like the time her mother stopped at a gas station, never to return. Or the day the attractive couple entered the church, their presence sending a tremor through her gut.
The church air, usually smelling like stale incense and old pews, held a strange metallic tang. It tickled Callista's nose. Her eyes, the colour of ripe raspberries, scanned the scene below. Something felt off.
"Ivan, look," she whispered, nudging her friend. He was drawing a picture of a dragon on the floor, his tongue sticking out in concentration.
"What?" he mumbled, not looking up.
"Them," she hissed, pointing. "They smell different."
Ivan sniffled the air. "Smelly?"
Callista shook her head. "No! Like... sharp things... iron, I think."
"V-V-Vampires? But it's daylight!" Ivan sputtered, his voice laced with disbelief. "And we're in a church! They can't come here, can they? They're scared of crosses and holy water… right?"
Callista hesitantly nodded. "You're right," she forced a calm she didn't feel. "Let's go, curfew's soon."
As Callista slipped into the cramped dormitory, a cold knot formed in her stomach. She couldn't shake the feeling, a premonition prickling at the edges of her consciousness. Sleep, when it finally came, was a restless affair, filled with flickering images of fangs and flames.
Then, the world exploded. A thunderous BOOM ripped through the night, shaking the very foundations of the church. Screams shattered the silence, followed by Sister Mary's frantic voice echoing through the halls, "Children, RUN!"
Chaos erupted. Orphans tumbled over each other, scrambling towards the fire escape. Callista, heart pounding, watched as they disappeared into the night. But her gaze remained fixed on the inferno, a chilling premonition twisting in her gut.
Sister Mary stumbled back, her face illuminated by the dancing flames. "It was them," she choked out, her voice thick with fear. "Those...guests...they..."
Before she could finish, a smooth, silken voice sliced through the air.
"Well, well. Look who decided to join the party." A figure emerged from the shadows, his smile predatory, fangs glinting in the firelight.
Callista's blood ran cold. This wasn't a guest. This was a predator. With a sickening crack, he sunk his teeth into Sister Mary's neck, draining the life from her with practised ease.
The orphans huddled together, their terrified whimpers barely audible over the crackling inferno. Anna's scream pierced the night, a raw cry of terror that echoed in Callista's soul. This wasn't a nightmare. This was real.
The vampire's snicker sent shivers down Callista's spine. Blood, slick and crimson, dripped grotesquely from his lips as he cast Sister Mary's lifeless body aside. "Virgin blood," he rasped, the words laced with a chilling relish. "Just the way I like it."
The firewarden, his face etched with grief and courage, stepped between the monsters and the terrified children. His voice, though trembling, held a defiant edge. "Leave them alone, monsters!" he roared, tears tracing tracks through the soot on his face.
The female vampire, her crimson eyes gleaming with predatory amusement, scoffed. "Monsters? We are evolved, human. The top of the food chain." With a chilling smile, her hand shot out, snapping the warden's neck with a sickening crack. His lifeless body crumpled to the ground.
"So wasteful, Liz." the male vampire muttered, wiping the blood from his mouth with a careless flick of his wrist.
"Anton please, who needs old meat when there's fresh feast before us?" Liz cast her gaze towards the huddled children, her eyes gleaming with a depraved hunger. "So young, so… ripe."
Anton chuckled, his eyes twinkled with rotten amusement, "Fair enough, love. First pick is yours."
A cruel grin stretched across Liz's face. Her gaze swept over the terrified orphans, lingering on Callista. Unlike the others, frozen in fear and grief, Callista stood out. A defiant spark ignited in her eyes, a flicker of something the vampiress hadn't anticipated.
"Aren't you a sight, child," Liz purred, fangs glinting in the orange glow. "Almost makes me regret ending your life..."
A cold finger traced Callista's porcelain cheek, sending shivers down her spine. "Perhaps," Liz rasped, her voice a chilling whisper, "I can make you one of us instead."
Callista's growl echoed through the burning church. "Not a chance, monster."
Liz's amusement curdled into a snarl. "Foolish child! Then I'll show you what a truly painful death looks like!" Her fangs bared, she lunged for Callista's neck.
But before she could reach her, a small figure darted forward. Ivan, his face contorted in a scream of selflessness, threw himself between them, taking the bite on his shoulder.
"IVAN!" Callista shrieked, rushing to his side.
Anton chuckled, pulling Liz into a mocking embrace. "Young love, how touching," he sneered.
Liz laughed, a melody of malice. "Indeed, entertaining. Watch, boy, as I drain your sweetheart, drop by drop." With a blur of speed, she lunged, fangs bared again, aiming for Callista's throat.
But to Callista, the world shifted. Time slowed, stretched thin as smoke. She saw everything with unnatural clarity - the woman's cruel eyes, the glint of her deadly fangs, the stench of Sister Mary's blood clinging to Anton, the acrid bite of smoke in the air, a flicker of fear in Ivan's face.
Instinctively, Callista crossed her arms, a surge of power coursing through her veins. A blinding white light erupted, a defiant roar against the encroaching darkness. The vampire screeched, shielding her eyes, momentarily blinded.
Callista, heart pounding in her chest, saw her reflection in the dying flames. Fear mingled with something new - a spark of defiance, a glimmer of power. In her hands, materialised two blades, shimmering like starlight.
"What in the..." Anton sputtered, surprise replacing his predatory grin. He lunged, fangs bared, aiming for a swift end. But Callista, fueled by instinct and adrenaline, parried his attack.
It wasn't a graceful dance, but a desperate struggle for survival. The clanging of metal echoed through the burning church. Callista's blade, guided by an unknown force, sliced through Anton's arm with ease.
Her mind reeled, yet a primal instinct guided her movements. She knew what to do, had to do. Another blade found its mark, plunging into Anton's chest. The world seemed to shatter around her as the vampire roared in agony, then crumbled to dust.
But the victory was short-lived. Liz, her face contorted in rage and grief, launched herself at Callista. Panic threatened to engulf her, but before she could react, Ivan hurled himself between them.
This time, he wasn't so lucky.
Liz's fangs sank into his neck, draining his life with a chilling swiftness. Her eyes, burning with unholy hunger, met Callista's. The child's innocence shattered like broken glass.
The vampire lunged, a blur of fangs and fury. Callista flinched, bracing for the bite, but before the predator could reach her, a deafening gunshot echoed through the inferno. A blade, hurled with deadly precision, pierced Liz's heart, sending her screaming into dust.
The man materialised from the shadows, his form average and lean. His glasses caught the dying flames, revealing a weathered face etched with surprise and concern. "Are you alright, child?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, filled with both awe and worry.
Callista choked back a sob, the metallic tang of fear and grief clinging to her tongue. The world spun, a dizzying kaleidoscope of terror, loss, and the chilling awakening of a power she couldn't name. Her crimson eyes, once reflecting the inferno's fury, now held a glint of steely resolve.
The man, sensing her turmoil, offered a gentle smile that reached his eyes. "My name is Indigo Crane," he said, his voice calmingly low. "I'm a Watcher. And I'm here to take you to safety."
His words pierced through the haze. She nodded, understanding settling in the pit of her stomach. Twelve-year-old Callista stood taller, the flames of the inferno mirroring the fire now burning in her eyes. Her life had changed, irrevocably, and she knew, with a chilling certainty, that this was only the beginning.
A decade melted into the neon-drenched city, a concrete jungle pulsing with a life that devoured the stars. Callista, bundled deeper into her leather jacket, wondered if Ivan would find beauty in this concrete chaos.
Memories might fade, but the scars remained etched deeper. Distant sirens wailed, another life snuffed out. The city, a record on repeat, playing the same song of violence and despair.
A flicker of a cigarette, a plume of smoke framed her face as she exhaled, the acrid tang a stark contrast to the inferno burning within her. The city's indifference was a mirror to her own, a shield against the pain that still flickered beneath the surface.
Then, a voice slithered through the night, a seductive melody in the cacophony of the city. "Hey, beautiful, want to escape?"
The stench of blood, veiled by expensive cologne, was unmistakable. Crimson eyes met the neon glow, reflecting the city's coldness and her own. A predatory smile, devoid of warmth, played on her lips.
Not just a hunter. A hunter who hunted hunters.
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