The ShowDown
The cavernous hall echoed with the clash of steel and the snarls of combat. Shadows danced across the stone walls, cast by the flickering torches that lined the room. In the center of the chaos stood Dianne, her movements a blur of lethal grace as she faced the elder vampire, Alistair.
Alistair, tall and imposing with eyes like shards of ice, moved with the confidence of centuries. But for all his power and experience, he found himself struggling against Dianne's relentless assault. Her speed and strength were unparalleled, a testament to the hybrid blood coursing through her veins.
With a swift, calculated strike, Dianne disarmed Alistair, his sword clattering to the ground. She pressed her advantage, delivering a series of brutal blows that drove him to his knees. Alistair's smug facade cracked, replaced by a flicker of fear.
"Where is he?" Dianne demanded, her voice cold and unwavering as she held her blade to his throat. "Where is Lewis?"