Andrew calmed his mind, his parched lips momentarily satiated by the warm water bottle he had brought instead of a weapon. Thankfully, Richard had been more than gracious enough to give him one before he left to fight the vampires.
Seeing as they were hard at work getting wounded by vampires, he, too, would need to work hard.
"Tell me your full name." He ordered Jethro, the vampire who got his balls cut off by Richard. Although he was bleeding to death, his vampiric regeneration considerably slowed that death. At least just enough for him to feel some results in his training.
He could feel the wind taking out part of his very being as if intentionally surrendering himself to the world as he bore down his whole mind to the task, much like what he felt whenever he used his powers.
Jethro opened his mouth, a voice coming through. "I am J-Jethro S-S-ullivan."
Andrew nearly yelled in celebration, but remembered that he was in enemy territory. He settled for pumping his fists, joy evident on his rosy cheeks.
"Blink your eyes!" He moved the goal post, ordering something less complex, but more about moving eight different muscles.
Thin flesh replaced Jethro's reddened eyes as he blinked repeatedly.
"Fuck, yeah." He whispered and continued commanding Jethro.
After more than five minutes, Andrew could now control the vampire to obey complex commands like he was a normal human, albeit double the consumption of his stamina.
"Man, this is so cool." He muttered as he brought the younger vampire's finger near Jethro's mouth and commanded him. "Eat the finger."
Jethro gave a strained smile, his pale face nearly bereft of life, and scraped his head against the ground as he used his tongue to place the finger in his mouth. The dying vampire began eating the finger.
"It's that good, huh?" Andrew chuckled, standing up from his seat and waking up his left leg which had fallen asleep from the lengthy ordeal.
Andrew grabbed the revolver and looked around the area, weirded out by the sudden silence inside of the factory.
Just as he decided to enter through the side door, a creaking sound of a bending metal beam made his body shudder in fear.
He turned around to see a hulking figure whose wrinkly bare skin scorched under the afternoon sun. The figure had two fin-like ears, crimson red eyes and a maw filled with toothy fangs like that of a blood-thirsty shark.
Dressed in nothing but his bare skin and bare scalp, the bald figure lept from atop the metal walls that surrounded the factory and landed a few dozen feet away from Andrew. The landing itself was silent and caused no cracks to appear on the pavement under his feet, a testament to the figure's control of his unimaginable strength.
"I smell…" The figure sniffed the air, before turning his murderous gaze back towards Andrew. "Demon."
Andrew could feel his heart beating so hard he thought it'll burst out of his body. He tried to move away, forward, down, or whichever direction he could, but his body wouldn't move, stricken by the sheer aura of carnage emitted by the figure not far from him.
"V-vampire!" He yelled, a barely veiled attempt to alert his companion if they aren't dead yet. He pointed his gun at the wrinkly vampire and began unloading all six bullets.
The vampire just stood there and took half of the bullets as it sunk into his body, the wounds immediately closing up.
"I see." The vampire hummed, wiping the blood from his wounds with his lengthy nails and bringing it up to his mouth for a quick taste. "Merely a used vessel, then. A shame."
The vampire vanished from Andrew's sight. Merely a blurred afterimage remained for a brief moment.
Before Andrew could even figure out what happened, a cold, wizened hand gripped him by the neck and lifted him a foot from the ground. Suddenly bereft of air, Andrew struggled against the grip, but found it tighter than he could remove.
He struggled to breathe, the edges of his sight nearly succumbing to the darkness as he smashed the revolver against the strangling arm of the crinkled vampire.
"W-W-" Andrew tried to speak. "W-walk under… the sun."
The vampire paid him no heed, merely maintaining his grip on Andrew as he watched him flail about like a fish over water.
"W-Walk… under… the… s-sun."
Andrew stressed every muscle in his face, focusing on every word in his sentence, but the command did not break through the vampire's psyche.
"Walk… under… the sun!"
He pictured his mind like a bow and his powers that of an invisible arrow.
"Walk under… the sun!"
The darkness now grasping half his sight, the words barely come out in a whisper.
"Walk… under the sun."
He placed the arrow upon the bow and pulled back the drawstring, the bow now taut with potential energy.
"Walk… under… the sun."
He aimed the taut bow at the vampire's head, picturing it piercing through his physical and mental defenses as if the arrow was made from the sharpest of materials.
He knew this was his last breath, that should he fail, he would die and do so without dignity or glory. Andrew placed his future hopes and dreams into the arrow and commanded it once more.
"Walk. Under. The. Sun."
The arrow left the bow. It soared through the air and brought forth a wave of psycho-kinetic energy that broke through the vampire's mental defenses.
Like a dam that broke through a single crack in its foundation, the vampire shuddered as his once vicious crimson pupils dilated and turned vacuous. He gently placed Andrew back to the ground, letting him go from his grasp and turning backwards.
As soon as oxygen entered his brain once more, Andrew breathed it in a mouthful, scared to admit that he might have peed his pants. But he knew this was not the time to show weakness, for although he had commanded the vampire, it was but a tenuous grasp on its mind.
"Walk. Under. The. Sun!" He ordered, reinforcing the first order as soon as the vampire's steps turned rigid.
He could feel this thin tether between him and the vampire quivering, so he pushed through the pain and commanded again. "Walk. Under. The. Sun!"
The vampire's steps were heavy and filled with anger, grinding the pavement under his feet as he tried to resist control.
Andrew felt a wet feeling in his mouth which instinctively wiped away and saw blood.
"Walk. Under. The. Sun." He commanded, the wet feeling now dripping from both his ears. His brain pounding against his skull, the vibrations of which reverberated against his teeth.
Step by step and order by order, the vampire did walk towards the uncovered portion of the factory.
His wrinkly skin scorched against the blinding rays of the afternoon sun, weakening his regenerating mental defenses.
"Walk. Under…" Andrew tried to command him again, but he had succumbed to the pain. His consciousness was barely there as he moved his mouth, but no words came out.
He chuckled as his body fell to the ground, blood pooling around his head.
Before he passed out a familiar rhythmic footsteps echoed on his blood-clogged ears.
●●●●●
Irwin gazed at the vampire burning under the sunlight, smoke billowing out of him like an unattended barbecue grill.
He then turned his attention to the unconscious Andy and gave an exhausted sigh.
"You mind giving me a second?" He asked the vampire as he moved towards Andy.
The vampire gave his silent assent as he moved under the cover of the tarpaulin. Despite being subjected to mind control and sunlight burning, he was still incredibly calm.
"You're lucky I got some points." He joked as he procured a stabilizing potion for 10 credit. Although this one wouldn't consume his stamina, it would incapacitate him for 24 hours. 'A fair trade off if you ask me, man.'
When he felt Andy's heartbeat stabilizing, he gave him a pat on the head and turned towards the vampire.
"We've already killed 15 of your clan. 3 more are on their way." He informed the vampire. The information elicited no response from the wrinkled monster. "Mind if I ask your name?"
"It has been a long time since I have stated my name, witch blood." The vampire sniffed the air, his pupils turning crimson once more. "You may call me Montagliano of the Severing Hand."
"Alright, Monty." Irwin dashed forward, his right hand gripping the silver sword's hilt.
Monty frowned, tilting his body to the right as he evaded the sword slash.
Irwin clicked his tongue, bouncing from the hard swing, and twisted his body to unleash a sweeping right kick.
Monty hummed as he used his forearm to block Irwin's kick and push him away. He clenched his fist, a red swelling evident in the grooves of his skin.
"Why attack with your foot?" Monty asked curiously, his voice hoarse as if parched for decades.
Landing a half a dozen feet away, Irwin steadied himself as he twisted his right leg to numb away the painful sensation from the block.
He changed his grip on the hilt to two-handed and rushed towards Monty, sword pointed forward. He swung upwards and brought it down diagonally, aiming to garner enough force from the dive.
Monty calmly gazed at Irwin's attack, shifting to the right at the last second as the blade slashed a shallow wound through his entire torso.
Irwin knew that Monty was too fast to be caught with a sword, so he bent his knees and smashed the top of his head against Monty's chin.
Monty, having been distracted by the sword and shallow wound, felt his chin cracking as his head suddenly tilted up.
The vampire brought his left knee with an inhumane agility and struck Irwin's side, sending the witch to stumble down a few feet away.
Monty, angered by the sudden attack, unleashed his toothy maw and dagger-like fingernails, rushing towards Irwin in an attempt to tear him apart.
Irwin pushed through the pain and used his sword to block off the incoming claws; the blows, however, still forced him to take a few steps back.
Irwin shrugged off Monty's claws to the side, letting go of the sword as he launched a full-powered left punch.
Monty did not stand idle as he brought his elbow and struck Irwin's chest.
The silver sword clanged against the floor as both combatants' attack hit each other.
Irwin felt his punch ripping apart Monty's cheeks as he sent him careening away, before a sudden fit of pain emanated from his chest.
He stumbled and fell to the ground as a shallow yet large gaping wound appeared on his chest, his long-sleeve shirt soaking in blood.
He coughed up bits of flesh and blood, his lungs having trouble operating. He stood up shakily, arms trembling as he gazed at the vampire and found him standing still.
Monty's broken jaw and torn cheeks regenerated in but an instant, much to Irwin's chagrin.
"I guess you're not that hurt?" Irwin asked, nursing his bleeding chest. Upon caressing it, he deduced that the skin was torn from the angle of the elbow, while the pressure of the blow had fractured his broken ribs. The vampire had not pierced through his torso.
Breathing became a chore, one that he ought to carefully accomplish. He snickered, eliciting a painful sensation from his chest, causing him to groan. That groan caused him pain, too. It was a vicious cycle.
"I am," He said, barely a whisper. "So how's about you just crane your neck and let me chop it off?"
Monty laughed in a grating voice as he spread his arms, revealing webbed wings underneath his armpits. "I could say the same thing to you, witch."
Irwin rushed forward, pivoting his left foot and twisting his torso as he unleashed a left hook which Monty evaded with ease. He skipped backwards, evading Monty's soul-tearing bite attack to his shoulder.
Irwin took the opportunity to release a lightning quick right jab at Monty's face. The hit broke the vampire's narrow nose, but it quickly healed up.
Irwin was panting, breathing out like an out of shape boxer. He smirked, noticing two things during the past altercation.
First, he was barely keeping up with Monty's speed. If the Severing Hand actually went serious for even a second, he would be dead before he even knew it.
Second, and more importantly, he closes his eyes when he regenerates.
Irwin severed his thoughts, opting to launch a quick 1-2 combo on Monty.
The vampire, however, seemed to get the hang of the fight as he blocked Irwin's left hook and immediately kicked his chest, sending him careening towards a stack of wooden pallets.
Irwin felt splinters digging deep into his back, but he paid it no heed as he hastily stood up from his position and rushed forward.
Instead of his usual boxing punches, Irwin jumped in the air and launched a knee strike from up above.
Monty was more than agile enough to evade such a telegraphed attack, merely sliding sideways and tearing Irwin's side into pieces.
Irwin fought through the pain, pivoting his right foot and using his left arm to latch onto the arm that clawed his sides.
Monty tried to push off Irwin, but the latter clutched onto the vampire's arm as if he was a mother carrying her purse in a rough neighborhood.
Irwin cocked back his right fist, clenched within was a leather hex bag, as he roared, "Flagello!"
Azure flames wrapped around his arm, engulfing his entire arm in a scorching, fiery blaze.
"Brimstone Blow!" He swung his arm forward and struck Monty's vampiric head.
With an ear-deafening boom, the vampire's head exploded into a rain of blood and brain matter that soon burned under the fiery might of the Flaming Whip.
Irwin released his grasp of the vampire's body, his own form crashing down the concrete floor.
Exhaustion and agony overtaking his mind as, soon, the ever-present, but always hidden, darkness welcomed him in its warm embrace.