The Dhampir's Plea

Bowen sighed as he strolled through the desolate streets. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows on the ground. He shape-shifted to a human blending seamlessly into the place but there was no sighting of the controller he sought. With a resigned breath, he shifted back to his usual form.

The streets were eerily silent, save for the occasional rustle of the dwellers going about their nightly routines.

He had been in this area for a while now, combing through every alley and hidden corner. The air was thick with tension and Bowen could sense the underlying fear that gripped the community. As he continued his search, he heard hurried footsteps behind him. Before he could react, someone collided with his back, muttering a hasty apology before breaking into a run again.

Bowen's instincts kicked in. He raced to the front, effortlessly overtaking the fleeing figure. Planting himself firmly in their path, he halted the person with a commanding presence. "What happened?" he demanded.

The man, panting and wide-eyed, stammered, "Another vampire has gone mad again."

Bowen's eyes narrowed. "Where?"

The man pointed towards the bustling market, his hand trembling. "In the market."

Bowen didn't waste another second. He sprinted towards the market, his heart pounding with a mix of urgency and dread. As he approached, the chaotic scene came into view. Soldiers were struggling to contain a frenzied vampire, its eyes wild with madness. Among the crowd, a young boy stood behind the soldiers, tears streaming down his face as he pleaded with them not to kill his father.

"Surround the vampire but stand down," Bowen commanded as he reached the scene.

The soldiers, recognizing him immediately, obeyed without question. They formed a loose circle around the crazed vampire, their weapons held at the ready but not aimed to kill. The vampire snarled and lunged at them, only to be met with a barrage of stun bombs. The explosions caused it to convulse momentarily before it resumed its frenzied attacks. The cycle continued.

The boy touched the hem of Bowen's garments, his small hands trembling. "Please, let me talk to him. I know he will listen to me. Please!" His voice was a desperate whisper, filled with a child's unyielding hope.

Bowen almost laughed. Convincing a mad vampire to regain its sanity was akin to commanding a stone to move on its own. Madness consumed the mind, leaving little room for reason or recognition. Yet, as he looked at the boy, he caught a familiar scent—a mix of vampire and human. "A dhampir," Bowen thought, a flicker of understanding crossing his mind. An image of Alita pregnant with his child surfaced, filling him with an unexpected joy.

Suddenly feeling compassion, Bowen bent down to the boy's level. "If your father recognizes you, I will let him live. But if he doesn't, both you and he will die together."

The boy's eyes widened in fear. Bowen expected him to back away, but instead, the boy took a deep breath and said, "I accept." The boy's bravery surprised him.

As the boy stepped forward, Bowen commanded the soldiers to hold their positions. The soldiers obeyed without question, recognizing Bowen's authority. The boy glanced back at Bowen, a mixture of hope and fear in his eyes. "He must be the general of our kingdom. God, please don't let him kill me. My papa must be well, he has to be!" the boy prayed silently as he approached his father.

"Papa," the boy called out, his voice trembling. The mad vampire's eyes, clouded with madness, flickered with confusion for a moment—a fleeting sign of recognition, perhaps brought on by the stun bombs.

"Papa, it's Daniel," the boy continued, stepping closer. "You gave me that name because I reminded you of Daniel in the Bible. Please, remember me."

Daniel reached out a hand, trying to touch his father. For a brief second, it seemed as though the mad vampire might recognize his son. But then, with a snarl, the vampire lunged at the boy, jaws open wide.

Bowen moved faster than the eye could follow, blocking the vampire's bite with his arm. Gasps echoed around the market square as soldiers and onlookers alike stared in shock. Bowen's own soldiers exchanged worried glances. If their leader became a mad vampire, who would have the strength to kill him now?

Bowen's fist connected with the vampire's face with a resounding crack. The force of the blow sent the vampire sprawling backward, releasing its grip on him. The metal ornament Bowen wore around his arm fell to the ground with a clatter, a sign to everyone watching that he had not been bitten. A collective sigh of relief swept through the crowd. "The vampire did not bite him!" they murmured, astonished.

"Kill it," Bowen commanded, his voice cold and unwavering. He turned to the boy, his expression stern. "If you have a death wish, let me know. If you beg me to let your father live again, I'm afraid you'll have to join him in the afterlife too."

The boy's face crumpled, tears streaming down his cheeks as he cried earnestly. Bowen, unsure of how to handle the situation, tried to comfort him awkwardly. "Your father is still going to die whether you cry or not. Just stop crying—you're confusing my soldiers."

But the boy's cries only grew louder, more desperate. "Papa, papa, come back to me!" he wailed, his voice echoing through the market square.

Bowen rolled his eyes, feeling a strange mixture of frustration and pity. He wrapped his arms around the boy, lifting him off the ground. The boy squirmed, trying to escape, but Bowen held on firmly and walked away from the scene. He didn't want Daniel to witness his father being cut down by the soldiers' swords, even if the man was beyond saving.

As Bowen carried Daniel through the narrow streets, he noticed smoke billowing from a nearby stall. He set the boy down inside, without realizing that it was the boy's own stall. The oven was burning, and the smell of charred buns filled the air. Daniel dropped to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

Bowen felt a pang of helplessness. He could handle bloodthirsty vampires and lead armies into battle, but comforting a grieving child was beyond his capabilities. He knelt down beside Daniel, unsure of what to say or do.

"Look, lad," Bowen began awkwardly, "I know this is hard. But crying won't change anything. You need to be strong."

Daniel looked up at him, eyes red and swollen. "You don't understand. He was all I had."