The Monster of Florence (1)

There was a reason why Elara was impatient.

It wasn't because they only had three days. It also wasn't because the sun had almost set. But to not mess up the flow of time, she must make sure something was done before a certain point in time.

Holding her violent blush from messing with her expression, she kissed the black-haired man in front of her. She placed her weight onto her knees to avoid sitting completely on his lap while being hypersensitive to her surrounding.

"Hey."

Elara flinched at Sorin's sudden voice through her lips. She pulled back.

"If you're going to kiss, at least do it properly," he said with his flat face.

That stoic, calm face made her even more embarrassed. She almost lost her confidence completely until suddenly, Sorin pulled her neck closer.

"Mmhh...!"

Sorin grimaced as he heard her little moan. That was a dangerous little whimper that he was afraid his little brother would respond to that call. He was still kissing her, but in between, he whispered,

"Don't moan. You're making this even weirder."

He saw her creasing her eyebrows with an apologetic, misty look as she whispered back, "I-I'm sorry..."

Yep.

His little brother would respond to that.

As twilight descended, casting long shadows across the landscape, the interior of the 1967 Alfa Romeo was bathed in a fading, almost chilly, golden glow. The deserted road ahead seemed to vanish into the encroaching darkness.

Inside the car, the atmosphere was a mix of ambiguous passion and a drifting mind. The occasional rustling, wet sound of tongue mingling, and a slight sway of the car suspension...

The figures of the man and woman, framed into an intimate pose, were etched in dim light, their features softened by the encroaching night.

As the once-warm illumination cooled, an aura of steamy uncertainty enveloped the car, capturing the unspoken yet blatant connection between the two souls in this secluded moment.

"Ah, my job is done..." Brother muttered in a place a little far from them. He stopped watching after the initial kiss and turned his attention toward the setting sun instead.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and texted a certain someone.

[Thanks for the car, baby. I'll return it when I'm done.]

A little bit later, he received a reply. [You're not riding it with other girls, right?]

"Eh, this baby is so jealous," Brother tapped the screen to answer the text when he suddenly felt a chill down his spine. His expression turned serious.

He muttered, "It's started, huh."

***

Sorin knew that this was just an act. And seeing how stiff the woman in front of him was, he knew he shouldn't let himself get caught up in the mood.

He was more conscious about her knee placement and if she felt any discomfort. They had been kissing for a while now, and he had reclined his seat just a little bit to give her more space.

"S-should I take off my shirt...?" she whispered, expressing her hastiness.

Sorin's lips moved, but no words emerged. His eyes widened, eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to express how inappropriate her suggestion sounded.

But the only word he managed to utter was, "Sure."

Fuck. His mouth was too honest.

She started to unbutton her black shirt. The first button was easy, but the second one was a bit stubborn, giving Sorin time to swallow his saliva.

When her fingers arrived at the third button, he caught a glimpse of her supple cleavage when his conscience forced his eyes to drift elsewhere.

That was when he saw a black shadow of a man behind the car from the rear-view mirror.

Sorin jolted up and turned to the car's rear window. It caused Elara to bump her head on the roof of the car. She let out a little gasp, wondering why Sorin suddenly turned to the back of the car.

But Sorin saw no one there.

"What's wrong?" Elara asked as she pouted, rubbing her head because of the pain from the bump earlier.

"No, nothing," Sorin said, reaching up to her head to help her rub it. "Sorry. Does it hurt?"

"A little bit," Elara answered, her eyebrows furrowing slightly.

But before he let go of his hand on Elara's head, the sharp sound of a gunshot pierced the air. In an instant, the woman's head before him violently burst apart, showering his hand with fragments of brain matter and splatters of blood.

"Ela—!"

Sorin saw a black figure outside of the side window of his car, pointing a gun at him.

BANG!

Sorin was able to duck and hide Elara's body under the car's dashboard before a series of other gunshots after the second one missed his head.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Brother! Where are you?! You said you'll be on the lookout!" he called Brother via the party's telepathic chat, but no one responded to him.

He looked at Elara, who was also still unconscious in his embrace, when he heard a system notification tone.

[DING!]

[New quest!]

[The Monster of Florence]

Quest Rank: [B+]

Accept Quest?

[Accept] [Decline]

"Accept!" he exclaimed, but suddenly, the round of gunshots stopped.

Sorin fumbled to find and activate the car's headlamp. Peering into the enveloping darkness of the road ahead, he realized that only a moment ago, it hadn't been nearly this foggy.

He turned to Elara, still unmoving and unresponsive. If he didn't know that she was also a sovereign who was 221 years old, he would've gone into a state of panic right now.

"Please tell me you'll be okay," he whispered.

He decided to open the car door and locked it. He left Elara alone there, assuming she had the ability to regenerate her brain after a while like he had.

The road stretched ahead, lost in an eerie mist that seemed to swallow the rays of the car's bright headlamp. Wisps of fog curled and danced like ethereal phantoms, lending an otherworldly quality to the desolation.

Shadows played tricks on the periphery, hinting at hidden secrets lurking just beyond visibility. The glow cast an uneven path, revealing only fleeting glimpses of the asphalt disappearing into the mist.

"Reveal yourself!" Sorin shouted.

He stepped forward, away from the car. Each step into the unknown felt like a journey into a realm where reality and fallacy intertwined, cloaked in the shroud of the night's obscurity.

Sorin ventured into the thick mist, straying from the car's light. The fog embraced him as each step heightened his anticipation. He was drawn deeper into the darkness, where he saw a dim little light ahead.

He took a deep breath before calling forward, "Brother?!"

Growing brighter as he neared, the faint glimmer transformed into a recognizable sight.

Positioned on the roadside, it was the spot Brother had claimed for surveillance before. Sorin discerned the source of the light. It was Brother's smartphone screen, lighting up in the darkness.

Yet, what seized his attention next drained the color from his face, replacing curiosity with stark horror.

Brother's body lay on the ground near a tree. A pool of blood enveloped the side of his face that met the earth. There was a hole in his head.

Like Elara.

Sorin instantly turned back toward the car.

"Elara!" he called frantically. He ran toward the biggest source of light in that place, finding his way back. But just a few steps in front of the car, he saw that the driver's side of the car's door was opened wide.

"Elara!" he called urgently. He ran toward the main light source in that place, finding his way back. However, just a short distance from the car, he saw the wide-open driver's side door.

He approached it immediately just to see traces of blood down the side of the road, out of the door, like a body being dragged out into the darkness.

Wait. They were immortal like him, right?

But when he tried to recall, none of them said that they had the same regenerative ability as he did. Could it be that it was a different type of longevity?

Could it be that... they could still... die?