By the time the last vampire fell, he was very high on life energy, even though he let free as much as he could. It buzzed through his body, making him feel floaty. He hated the feeling, and disbursed a bit more from himself, even knowing that it would increase the risk of him attracting the attention of some dangerous paranormals. The risk of becoming addicted always outweighed those dangers in his mind.
That done and feeling less off, he turned towards the closest human with a sadistic smile on his face and asked, “Now, how shall I kill you all?”
“No, wait, no!” the nameless man cried.
He felt nothing at the begging. But he couldn’t really snap a thread in all the humans. It was easy enough to explain away the vampires being ash, as his kind burned so well after death…but a human’s body did not burn that hot, or that fast, in a simple fire.
Eyeing the human, he made a quick decision. “I’ll be nice and give you a chance to avenge your Gods.” With that said, he released them all. They all stared, shocked at first, before finally, one snapped out of their stupor and attacked. The rest followed like the sheep that they were.
Foxx showed no mercy as he cut them down. Slicing through limbs, severing jugulars. The blood symbols that had been drawn on the floor were soon washed away. They were lost under the spray of blood, as bodies began to litter the ground. Candles fell over, spreading their flame, causing smoke to rise up.
The slaughter went on for a while, until eventually there were only five humans remaining. Foxx stared at the few surviving humans, feeling annoyed that they were still alive. Blood coated his entire body. No doubt he looked rather demonic at the moment.
Foxx lunged at them, but they managed to keep their distance, circling the room to avoid him. He wasn’t playing with them. It was more Foxx was tired and he was starting to feel the effects of overusing his powers. Then it hit him…there were seven heartbeats left on this floor…not six as there should have been. One he knew was Harlow’s, while five were in the ballroom with him…but there was a seventh heartbeat coming down the hallway.
Foxx frowned. Had someone below woken up? Or was this a new arrival?
One of the humans attacked, swinging his bat wildly, forcing Foxx to backstep multiple times. He almost slipped in the blood, but managed to stay standing.
He tsked. “Trying to get me when I’m distracted. Not nice.”
The door on the other side of the room burst open. “DIE, YOU DEMON!” The man he had knocked out on the stairways screamed as he ran in.
Foxx’s eyes widened at the device in the human’s hand. “Well, fuck,” he managed to say, right as the bomb went off. The blast sent him flying back, singeing his skin as it did. His head slamming hard into something solid had everything going black.
Foxx gasped, eyes flashing open as smoke filled his lungs, and a full-body ache tore through him. He mutely heard the sound of sirens in the distance. They may have told the police to stay away…but a bomb would definitely still bring them running.
Coughing, he looked around, trying to get his bearings. He was trapped under some burning wood and other debris. “Fuck,” he rasped. Judging by all the pain, he had broken some ribs…and he was pretty sure something was piercing his side.
Foxx could see part of the sky, and it was starting to lighten. Catching sight of the destruction to his left, he gasped. He was…on the ground floor, lying on top of rubble. The bomb had collapsed half the building. He could see eight floors up, the floors were shredded and sagging, torn apart.
This couldn’t have been the work of the small bomb the man had been holding… If it had, Foxx would be very dead. He’d been lucky to still be far enough away that it had blasted him back instead of blowing him up. How many bombs had the idiot set off?
Eyeing the sky again, he frowned as it lightened further—the sun was coming. How long had Foxx been passed out? A terrifying thought had the pain fading for a moment—what about Harlow?
With a sense of dread, he used some of the precious energy he had left and listened. He almost cried when he heard it…a heartbeat. “Fuck, that better be you, Harlow. I swear to the Goddess, if you’re dead, I’m going to kick your ass.”
Taking a deep breath that really hurt his ribs, he shoved everything off of him. Looking down, he finally saw what was piercing his side. A two-inch pipe—fun.
Grimacing, he grabbed the end and tore it out, hissing in pain. Taking another painfully deep breath, he sat up and forced himself to stand. Oh, it hurt. Oh, he just wanted to curl into a ball…but he had to find Harlow… At least, he hoped it was Harlow.
Foxx tried his earpiece and found it very dead. Harlow probably would not have answered even if it had worked. He checked his phone next. The screen was cracked all to fuck, but it still worked…sort of.
Hobbling along, he started down the hallway towards the scene of the first fight. Trying his best to avoid all the fire as he made his way through the debris. Foxx reached the area and winced. There was a crater…where the still-living humans had previously been. That answered the question of whether there had been more than one bomb. Well, at least he couldn’t be blamed for their deaths.
Carefully, he shuffled his way into the crater and out, limping past the front desk…and then he paused. He smelled blood. There was a lot on him, yet, this smelled like clean blood—cold blood. Oh, did the vampires have a stash of blood here?Oh please, my Goddess, give me this boon, he prayed.
Digesting blood wouldn’t instantly heal him, but it would give him a boost of energy. The effects wouldn’t be permanent, lasting only about thirty minutes at most, but it would be long enough to get them the fuck out of there. At least, he hoped there was a ‘them’.
Backtracking, he slipped behind the front desk of the hotel and pushed into the half-hanging swinging door.
Happiness soared through him as he spotted the coolers. There were some very broken ones, destroyed by the explosion, as part of the roof had collapsed onto them. But some were perfectly intact. Hobbling quickly to one, he flipped the lid open and let out a squeal of happiness. Foxx grabbed a bag and slapped it directly onto his fangs. He quickly drained the first, and then kept going until he had gotten through three bags.
This fake boost of health only worked because of how he was injured. If he had lost his head, or damaged his heart, not even digesting blood would have gotten him up and moving. As a vampire, he could ignore quite a lot of damage, but if the pipe had impaled his heart…he would have been out for the count…possibly permanently, depending on how long it stayed there.
The blood surging through his veins, temporarily pushed away his fatigue. He walked less hindered back out into the lobby, taking off towards the other stairway, making the trek up once again. This time, instead of Harlow struggling, it was Foxx. But with each step, he grew more certain that the heartbeat at the top, waiting for him, was his partner. It had to be. The location was right.
He was out of breath by the time he reached the top, but he didn’t stop. Pushing into the hall, Foxx found this part of the eighth floor miraculously untouched.
