✿: Your muse getting hurt because of my muse
Malachi could try and fight this vampire and make a run for it, but he was smart enough to know that he would not make it very far. He knew himself and what he was capable of, and fighting a 600 year old vampire like him was not in his list of traits. He was painfully aware of his limitations. Maybe it made him weaker. Maybe it made him a coward. Maybe he just didn’t want to bother. Maybe deep down, he knew it was his time. Malachi was quicker with his tongue than he was with his fists, but something told him that his wit would not get him out of this one. So instead of making a run for it, he followed him into a deserted shed. He knew that he was not bringing him here to have a nice little chit chat over tea. It all made more sense once Henryk’s name was mentioned. “I see.” He was looking for him. Malachi released a soft chuckle, maybe not the smartest move for someone in his position. When the situation became violent and he felt him hit him, Malachi swung back. His fist connected with his face but there was nothing victorious about it. The other vampire was all erratic and completely out of control. Punches came one after the other in such fury and with such speed that all he could do was lift his arms up to protect his face as much as possible. Whenever he saw an opening, he would throw his fist in an attempt to push him away from him. Then came the kick that dropped him down to the ground. A clenched hand felt like bricks on his face. They came, one after the other. An onslaught. Crack. The bones of his left cheek breaking. Crack. His jaw dislocating from its hinges. Something hit him in the eye. Blood exploded in his head, bashing the now broken ball of his pupil and retina into the back of his skull. He grabbed him by the hair, chopping some of it off. “Tell me where he is and this will all be over.” Suddenly, he felt this overwhelming fear and his body started to panic. He saw himself back in Dachau and when his one good eye managed to focus on the vampire, he looked like a giant hovering over him. And he felt small. Reduced to nothing. He was flooded with memories and the smell of dead flesh. ❝G-go fuck yourself.❞ He had to twist his body to the side to stop himself from choking on his own blood.
Kill me. He thought. Just, please. Kill me. He needed it to end. He wanted to scream it, but he couldn’t make a sound. His body was dragged across the room. His arm stretched out in some unnatural way, almost twisting out of its socket. There was a shot of electrifying pain pulsating from his hand. His voice was low. Guttural. Animal. Vicious. He gripped his forearm, stared him hard in those old, terrified eyes, and didn’t think twice befo– there was a spurt of blood, heavy and thick, covering his hands. Malachi’s bone was exposed where his finger used to be. The chunk of flesh fell to the floor, useless. The vampire kept him pinned there with his arms. “Nine more.” Another blow, and a stake was in his arm. He was crouching on top of him, grabbing him, shaking him, screaming at him. “You can’t keep him safe. I will find him, and I will kill him him with this very stake. Do you understand?” He could feel his spit and his hot breath on his face. Malachi felt his weight on top of him and the stake ripping through the pit of his stomach, cutting through his organs like butter. He twisted it, which forced a bucket of blood to pool out of his mouth as he coughed. The moment he pulled the dagger away, Malachi felt as though his intestines were being removed. Out of the corner of his good eye he could see that he was distracted with something. Pulling his phone from his pocket and making a call. This was his opportunity. But could he walk? And if he could, how far would he be able to get before he caught him again. He had to take it. He couldn’t die like this. It’s in those moments when you see death approaching that the will to live overpowers you. He felt euphoric, and he managed to roll over and jump on his feet thanks to the intense adrenaline that washed over his body. Run. Get out of there. He was not sure if the elder vampire was paying attention to him or he just thought Malachi was a lump on the floor unable to move. But he had managed to get to the door, throwing his body down the small hill and rolling down until he reached the bottom.
@prozny
