54.54% Blood Pool / Chapter 6: Massacre

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Chapter 6: Massacre

We entered the target area, and the slaughter began.

I managed to refrain from drinking blood, merely just killing one after another.

They knew me, but couldn't speak out against me in time before I killed them. I killed eight hundred fifty-nine of them. From what I remembered, I had saved six hundred thirty-five.

I killed more vampires than I saved.

Although Nephilim had managed to tell me that she saved most of the children, there was still more there than I had wished. One little girl vampire, looked up with tear stricken eyes filled with pain.

Not hate, but rather acceptance of the fact I was about to rip her neck off. I turned away as I ripped her head off. Her blood sprayed across my face.

An older man, short and stubbly, just looked at me and smiled.

Smiled, smiled at me.

In anger I ripped his throat out. How could he smile at me? His smile wasn't cheerful. It wasn't exactly sad either. It was as if he was okay with dying.

How could he accept dying like this?

So many, their eyes were fear and rage. Why should they be, I saved them. I saved them and then they came to a slaughterhouse.

I had brought them here. They believed in sanctuary and now out of nowhere in the middle of the night they were all dying. They were watching each other die.

They weren't dying a noble death. They weren't dying a quick death in most cases. Many Punishers were tearing limbs off to come back and indulge later.

The ones I could spare the slow deaths of, I did. Their screaming would die out quickly.

There was nothing I could do but kill them, to spare them dying from the other hands.

At the very least I would forever ask them to forgive me. I would be remorseful. I would regret this. The others would not. The others were feeling like they were given a present.

Treminson gazed at us during the slaughter. Him and ten others circled the area to prevent any from escaping. A few managed to feign death and then attempt to sprint out.

Their eyes showed hope. And then, before they knew it, they would be lifted and thrown into the area.

They didn't even hit the ground, as Punishers would jump up and start tearing at their limbs to claim as their own.

Everyone stared at the last vampire as their screams quite

With a pool of glowing red eyes staring at Treminson, he nodded his head. We were done.

I was covered in blood head to toe, and numb. The emotions that expelled into the air of from the mayhem and murder was gone. The Punishers stood coated in blood, licking their fingers, and making themselves appear decent.

The massacre took an hour and a half.

I tried to ease my conscience at the end as we traveled back. At least while I killed them, I had passion, and cared. I tried to make their deaths the least painful. Quick. I didn't try to infringe upon their memories. I didn't try to destroy to humiliate them.

Before this, I had tried to protect them. I had tried to save them...

We were slower going back. All I had were images of the slaughter running through my brain. The Punishers were emitting enjoyment, happiness, excitement, and contentment about them. My small amount of guilt couldn't be registered among the rest of the atmosphere, shielding me briefly from Treminson's gaze.

We eventually made it back to the Domain.

Everyone, but Punisher Tremison, was quiet. He debriefed the Elders on the situation. However, the Elders wanted a full-scale investigation on who the identities of the vampires were.

From how it sounded, it would take a few days at most for them to devise a plan on how to go about it. The problem was Punishers could not go out in daylight, we would burn to ash. The old myths made by humans back in ancient times come true. How ironic.

After the debrief we were dismissed, allowed to carry on with our night as if massacre was a daily ritual.

This gave me time to tell the others what happened. It would also enable us to make a counter-plan.

It hit me. I realized how dangerous everything was. Why most of the top notches kept behind the scenes. Nephilim especially.

A night like this where Punishers would drink the blood of those we weren't able to save. Too many identities would be lost.

I knew that I was given away and so was Elizabeth along with the hundred and fifteen others.

Perhaps we could move the bodies of the deceased, the murdered, and destroy all the remaining blood.

This would leave the participating Punishers to retrieve intelligence from. The Elders would likely find it to be too faulty to believe it all, because of the Blood Pool.

I rushed away to go to Nephilim. There was even more at stake for them.

I, myself, was also in a bad spot. Treminson was watching me the most tonight. He even went to threaten me.

I suppose in his eyes, rightly so. I couldn't tell. It was hard to figure out what he was thinking. He wore the same exterior calm demeanor I used to have.

Why was it so difficult now? Perhaps because I was allowing my emotions to take over too much. I was out of my element by not having control of the situation. Perhaps it was because I couldn't accurately gauge what was going to happen to me in the future.

Whatever the reason, I needed to figure it out quickly. I didn't bother avoiding branches or limbs and snapped them as I whipped tree to tree.

I hadn't thought about my appearance the entire trip. It wasn't until I swung the cabin door open did it occur to me. By then, it was a bit late.

Everyone's head snapped in my direction. Horror stricken across all their faces except Nephilim. She had a somber look about her. Her eyes had less golden hue to them, a dull hue rather than the shinning and glittering gold that they typically held.

Tankrell's face was ash-fallen and eyes full of tears that hadn't spilled over. Elizabeth had tears of blood streamed down her face.

Jarod was shaking in rage.

Once his eyes met mine, he roared "YOU! IT WAS YOU!"

In a second, his eyes were illuminated red, nails elongated into talons, pupils narrowed. Then he began to hurl himself across the table right at me before anyone else could react.

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