“Fuck… What to do…”
Glancing around quickly, Foxx sprinted back down the hallway and chose the furthest room. He broke the lock and pushed inside.
He gagged on entering. There were dark brown stains on the bed and rubbish everywhere. The windows were covered in blood, and one was broken. Someone had definitely been murdered in here, and they had not cleaned up. Foxx stared in disgust at the dirty room and floor, and sighed. It wasn’t like he had time to run around looking for a better option.
Eyeing the bed again, he shook his head. Foxx glanced around for a second before picking the cleanest spot on the floor he could find, and laid Harlow down.
Flipping him over, he peeled back the blood-slicked leather jacket, and then his ruined shirt. Eyeing the placement of the wound, he was worried about what else had been hit. He took a deep breath, trying to decide what to do as more blood welled up from the gash. Foxx checked Harlow’s pockets, hoping to find more bandages, and found just a lot of useless shit. More weapons and bullets, but nothing medically useful.
“Fuck!” His mind raced, and he quickly decided to sacrifice his jumper.
Tossing his holster with his water guns to the ground, Foxx slipped his dungaree straps off his shoulders. Pulling his green jumper off, he tore it into strips. As swiftly as he could, he bandaged the man up, before putting his jacket back on him. It wasn’t perfect, but at least the man shouldn’t bleed out—at least not more than he already had.
Pulling his straps back up, he stood. Foxx shivered as a breeze came through the drafty ass room and hit his bare chest. He rubbed his arms and eyed the collapsed human. “Stay safe, Harlow,” he told the unconscious man.
Well, Harlow would be as safe as he could be… Foxx couldn’t hide the man’s heartbeat. But if he killed all the vampires first, they wouldn’t be able to find him using it.
Not an issue, he thought viciously, as he pushed out of the room and firmly closed the door behind him. He left his water guns behind as they wouldn’t be much use to him.
Cracking his neck, he dropped all the shields he hid behind to appear more human. Foxx dove fully into the powers of his bloodline—the powers of the Fates. Without Harlow there to witness, he didn’t have to hold back.
That being said, fully emerging himself in his bloodline powers was draining, so he had to make this quick. As the heartbeats grew louder in his ears, the smells also, unfortunately, grew stronger.
Wrinkling his nose, he walked down the hallway, towards the music, at a quick pace, and pushed inside while the idiots continued their sermon.
Foxx wasn’t shocked at the amount of candles placed all around. In fact, he had to say, he was a little bit disappointed. Like, if they were going to go full on into the crazy cult shit, they could have at least spent a little money to make it all look cool. At most, there were a hundred candles… Like, there wasn’t even one candle per person.
Candles were randomly placed around, and the ballroom had been draped in black cloth. Meaningless symbols were all over the floor, written in blood. The congregation itself formed rings around each other. At the very center was a tall figure in golden and blood-red robes.
As the threads came to life before his eyes, he let out an anger-filled laugh as the age of the man became apparent. “You have not even reached four-hundred years, yet you dare to start such nonsense! Have you gone as mad as the origins of your line? Think you could copy her, did you? Such arrogance. Well, it is your lucky day. This is your one and only chance to surrender. Do so, and you will at least live long enough to have a fair trial. Or don’t and die now.”
Really, it was lucky for Foxx that every single one of these vampires happened to be of the Illusionist line. The exact line that was weakest against the powers of Fates. The only ones who had no way of protecting themselves against it, or preventing his actions. He might have actually been in trouble if there had been one from one of the other bloodlines.
“Do you really think you can take us all on?” The man threw his head back and laughed. “Take down this unbeliever, and then hunt down his hidden partner!”
The whole congregation screamed out in agreement, together chanting, “Down with the Unbelievers.”
It was enough proof, was it not? That they had refused to surrender? He reached into his pocket and turned off the recording, right as he used a huge amount of mental energy to tug and pull on the lifeline of everyone in the room.
At once, they fell to their knees, as he let their life force soar into the air. With the move, about half of Foxx’s energy drained away. It’s what he got for not keeping in practice. He feared he may have to take in some of the life force he had drained soon, depending on how long he kept this up.
The vampires were shocked more than anything, while the humans screamed in terror. These humans had no defense against Foxx, solely due to the fact that they believed these vampires were Gods. That belief prevented them from trying to use the protection of the various sects of Christianity against him, which was funny to Foxx.
For, as strong as he was…if one had begun to pray to the right God, they’d find themselves free. The fact was, a horde of praying priests was more dangerous to Foxx than anyone in this room. That God's hatred for their Goddess was so strong that it would have been enough. He’d still kill them, but it would have made it interesting.
“Like I told your idiot earlier.” Foxx started to walk through the crowd, towards the leader. “The problem with setting yourselves up as Gods is that you forget your own weaknesses. Forget that there are people out there much stronger than you.” He stared into the face of the vampire who had started this whole thing, and smiled. “Let me remind you.” He ran his hand over the man’s face, trailing down his neck, laying it at the center of his chest. “What it’s like to be mortal again.” Foxx let out a vicious hiss before he wrapped his hand around the vampire’s center thread—the life thread that held all the others together—and snapped it with a single flick of his wrist.
The man's head tossed back as he screamed in agony. His life force rushed out of him, causing the air to stir. Foxx was forced to accept some of the energy inside himself, for it was too much to let free. As it filled him with joy and power, Foxx threw his head back and laughed. The screams of the followers joined the noise.
Before his very eyes, the youth of the man’s skin faded, and wrinkles formed rapidly as his muscles collapsed to the bone. The vampire’s shrieks of pain continued. After a brief few torturous minutes, what remained of the First Blood’s cult leader was a decrepit corpse.
He leaned forward and blew. With a simple displacement of air, the body fell over. As it hit the ground, it disintegrated into ash that cascaded over the floor.
Staring at the fearful, screaming faces of the cultists, he smiled brightly. “Who’s next?”
Without a hint of guilt, he started to snap more threads, his focus on the vampires.
Barely registering their screams, he killed them one by one. Foxx did what was needed, for leaving them alive risked Harlow. The humans would go next. He couldn’t leave them alive after this. It would be too much of a risk for Foxx. They could expose him. But it was fun letting them witness their all-powerful Gods perish, before he took their lives as well.
