Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Blood and Consequences

Sam Witleck followed Dr. Sorin with the same cold detachment he had practiced so many times before. The vampire walked with an air of arrogance, the way all vampires did—like they owned the night. Sam had seen it countless times. Their calm, almost theatrical movements, their confidence that came from believing they were superior to humans. It disgusted him.

He wasn't in this for revenge or glory. He was here to eradicate what he saw as a pest. Vampires, with their constant hunger for blood, their disregard for human life, were nothing more than parasites. Sorin was no different, just another predator who had spent years hiding behind a facade of academic charm and mystique, feeding whenever it suited him. The man once held control over his hunger, but recently, his kills had become sloppier, more frequent. The bloodlust was consuming him, turning the once-quiet professor into something feral, something dangerous.

Sam trailed the professor into the bar on the outskirts of town, his hand resting lightly on the syringe in his pocket, filled with a concoction of vervain and paralytic agent. It wouldn't kill the vampire, but it would slow him down long enough for Sam to gain control. That was the plan, at least. But he knew better than to expect everything to go smoothly.

Inside, the bar was dimly lit, filled with the murmur of low conversations and the heavy smell of stale alcohol. It was the perfect place for someone like Sorin to hide—obscure, tucked away, a place where people minded their own business. Sam glanced around, his sharp eyes quickly locking onto the professor sitting at the far end of the bar. Sorin was sipping something dark and red, something that wasn't wine.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, tousling it to look more disheveled, then staggered toward the professor with a deliberately clumsy gait. He let out a loud, sloppy laugh as he collapsed onto the stool next to Sorin. "Professor Sorin!" he exclaimed, letting his words slur. "Didn't expect to... see you here!"

Sorin turned, his pale face illuminated by the dim light. His eyes flicked over Sam with cool disinterest, though there was a flicker of something darker—recognition, perhaps, or maybe just hunger. "Mr. Witleck," Sorin said, his voice smooth but cold. "What a surprise."

Sam grinned, pretending not to notice the underlying threat in Sorin's tone. "Yeah, I was just... having a drink, y'know? Thought I'd relax." His words were loose, lazy, but inside, Sam was calculating every move, watching Sorin closely. The vampire didn't know it, but tonight, he had met his match.

Sorin's gaze lingered on Sam for a moment longer before he turned back to his drink. "You should be careful, Mr. Witleck," he said in a low voice. "There are dangers lurking in the dark."

Sam laughed again, louder this time, playing the role of the drunken fool. "Danger? I'm not scared of the dark, professor. Not scared of anything."

Sorin's lips curled into a thin smile. "Is that so?"

Sam leaned in, his hand inching toward his pocket, fingers brushing the syringe. "Yeah... one more drink, professor. Just one more."

Sorin watched him carefully, his dark eyes gleaming with something predatory. But after a moment, he motioned to the bartender, signaling for another round. Sam kept up his drunken act, laughing and slurring his words, but his mind remained razor-sharp. He knew the professor was testing him, waiting for a moment of weakness. Sam wasn't going to give him that chance.

They drank in silence for a few more minutes, the tension between them thickening. Sam could feel Sorin's hunger rising—vampires like him were always on the edge, always ready to feed. Sorin had lost control of his restraint in recent months, and Sam had been tracking his kills. The professor had become sloppy, feeding more frequently, letting his hunger dictate his actions. It was that carelessness that made him a threat.

Finally, Sorin stood. "Come with me," he said, his voice low, commanding.

Sam pushed himself off the stool, staggering a little to keep up the act. He followed Sorin out of the bar and into the alley behind it, his heart steady, his hand never leaving the syringe in his pocket. The night air was cool, the alley dimly lit by a single flickering streetlight. Sam knew what was coming. Sorin wasn't the first vampire he had hunted, but he was by far the most dangerous.

Sorin turned slowly, his face contorting into something less human. His eyes darkened, veins bulging beneath his pale skin as his fangs extended. "You've been following me," Sorin hissed, his voice dripping with menace. "Did you really think you could hide it?"

Sam didn't respond. Instead, he met Sorin's gaze with cold indifference. "You vampires are all the same," he said quietly. "You think you're superior because you feed on blood. But you're just parasites."

Sorin's face twisted with fury. "You don't understand anything," he snarled, and then, with terrifying speed, he lunged at Sam.

Before Sam could react, Sorin's hand closed around his throat, lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing. The vampire's strength was overwhelming, his grip crushing the air from Sam's lungs. "You're just another weak human," Sorin growled, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. "And now, you're mine."

Sam's vision blurred, but his hand moved quickly. He pulled the syringe from his pocket and jammed it into Sorin's side, pressing down hard on the plunger. The vampire recoiled, dropping Sam as the vervain-laced paralytic began coursing through his veins.

Sorin staggered back, his face contorted in pain, but the effect wasn't instant. Sam hit the ground hard, gasping for breath as he scrambled to his feet. He had hoped the drug would work faster, but Sorin was still moving, still strong. The vampire shook off the initial shock of the vervain, his eyes blazing with rage.

"You think that will stop me?" Sorin snarled, his voice thick with anger. Despite the poison in his system, he moved again, faster than Sam could react.

A fist slammed into Sam's chest, sending him crashing into the alley wall. Pain exploded through his body, and he felt something crack—maybe a rib, maybe more. He coughed, blood spilling from his mouth as he struggled to stand. Sorin was on him again in an instant, delivering a brutal kick to his side, knocking the wind out of him.

Sam's body screamed in pain, every muscle burning, but he forced himself to keep moving. Sorin was slowing down, but the vampire's strength was still monstrous. Another blow connected with Sam's jaw, sending him sprawling across the ground. His vision blurred, the edges of his consciousness threatening to fade. But he held on. He had to hold on.

Sorin stood over him, breathing heavily, his movements becoming sluggish as the paralytic finally started to take effect. But even now, even with the vervain burning through his system, the vampire remained powerful, dangerous. "You... should have run," Sorin rasped, his voice trembling as his body betrayed him.

Sam spit blood, his vision clearing just enough to see the vampire sway on his feet. "You're not so strong now, are you?" Sam muttered, his voice hoarse.

Sorin collapsed to his knees, his body twitching uncontrollably as the drug finally took hold. Sam lay there for a moment, gasping for air, his entire body aching from the assault. He had survived by sheer luck—the paralytic had kicked in just in time. If it hadn't, Sorin would have torn him apart.

Slowly, painfully, Sam pushed himself to his feet. His ribs were screaming, and his jaw throbbed from the impact, but nothing was broken. Just battered. Fractured. He took a deep breath and walked over to the fallen vampire, who was now gasping, his body paralyzed.

Sam crouched down next to Sorin, his eyes cold and devoid of any sympathy. "You vampires always think you're invincible," he said quietly. "But you're not. You're just animals."

Sorin's eyes, wide with fear, met Sam's, but he couldn't move, couldn't speak. He was completely at Sam's mercy now. Sam didn't hesitate. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small tool—a brutal device Jason Todd had taught him to use for interrogations. He jammed it into Sorin's mouth, prying it open with a sickening crack.

Sorin let out a muffled snarl, but the paralysis had robbed him of any real strength. Sam looked down at him, disgust curling his lip. "You've spent your life feeding on humans, thinking you're above us. But right now, you're nothing."

With a sharp motion, Sam grabbed Sorin's upper jaw and yanked, snapping off one of the vampire's fangs with a grisly crunch. Sorin's body jerked, his eyes widening in shock and pain, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Sam held the fang up to the light, examining it with cold detachment before slipping it into his pocket.

"A souvenir," Sam muttered.