VII - TO LET THE DEMON IN
Summary: you had never crossed paths with Sangreal before — and now, you silently thanked whatever gods listened that it hadn’t happened without Dabi by your side. As twisted vampires brought by Kurogiri clashed fiercely with Dabi’s blazing flames, a new figure emerged from the portal: Toga Himiko herself, the deadliest of Sangreal’s hunters. But just when all hope seemed lost, salvation arrived in the nick of time
Warnings: vampires, vampire Dabi, vampire Kurogiri, vampire Toga, blood and gore, violence
WCT: circa 2.6k
𖥸 SANGREAL - previous chapter 𖥸 chapter VIII (to be added) 𖥸 SANGREAL - playlist 𖥸 SANGREAL - masterlist 𖥸 MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II
They didn’t look like vampires. They looked like nightmares that had dragged themselves out of the pit of consciousness.
Their flesh sagged in rotten patches, raw and flaking like wet parchment, with claws that jutted from fingers like the splintered bones of a corpse. And their eyes — God, their eyes — were dark and emotionless, no longer human. White-pupiled, black-sclera'd, void-like and starving. Some had grotesque mutations: ribs curved outward like spears, spines unfurled into jagged mockeries of wings, veins exposed and twitching as if they had minds of their own.
“These aren’t Sangreal,” you breathed to Dabi, your voice trembling against the shell of his ear.
“They used to be,” he spat, blue flames coiling up his arms like serpents already. The fire gave him a ghastly glow, lighting the shadows like a funeral pyre. “Overhaul’s creations. I’d heard the whispers. I didn’t think…” He trailed off, jaw tight.
He didn’t have time to finish. The first creature lunged.
Dabi’s reaction was a blur — he flung you backward, hiding you behind himself, and unleashed a blue-hot inferno that lit up the entire room.
The creature wailed as its limbs curled in on themselves, charring and crumbling, but it was only the beginning.
Two more surged forward through the smoke. One skittered across the ceiling like a spider, trailing jagged bones as it dove.
You cried out, throwing your hands over your head — and then it was intercepted.
A streak of azure slammed into the creature mid-air, crushing it against the concrete wall so violently that cracks bloomed through the stone like frost.
You stumbled back, heart hammering against your ribs, searching for an exit. You didn’t have any other choice but to crawl into that space Dabi found earlier.
The mist, curling at the edges of the room like smoke with eyes, was watching your every move.
The air split open again.
Another portal tore through the room like a gaping wound in the fabric of reality — mist and static coiling outward in unnatural waves, as if the air itself recoiled from what was coming. It shrieked open with the sound of splitting bone, a rift clawing into the world’s skin.
You held your breath.
And then she stepped through.
A young girl with twin messy buns and a lopsided grin carved into her porcelain face. She wore a skin-tight black, sleek uniform with a high collar that seemed to swallow her neck, heavy combat boots clanking against the ground, thick and towering on chunky platforms. A belt slung low around her hips carried an arsenal of razor-sharp knives. She looked so painfully young — too young — and the sight twisted something cold and raw deep in your gut. Her eyes shimmered gold under Dabi’s flickering flames, pupils blown wide with feral delight. She appeared dainty, almost fragile, but beneath that delicate guise lurked a presence so unsettling it stirred a deep, instinctual fear within you.
In one gloved hand, she loosely held a dagger. Silver and crimson stones were embedded into the hilt, and something — someone’s — blood had already dried along the blade.
Dabi snarled at the sight of her, his lips curling in a grimace. “Toga.”
She clapped her hands together, delighted. “Oh, Dabs! You remembered me! Charming!” she chirped. Her golden eyes swept to Kurogiri next. “Keep the flame boy busy, would you? I’ll collect what we came for.”
The fog of his form pulsed gently in acknowledgment. “As you wish. But be swift. The Lord grows impatient.”
Toga only giggled.
Then her gaze snapped to you.
Her smile widened as she crossed the ruined room, skipping over the shattered floor and the bodies of lesser vampires like stepping stones in a garden. She crouched before you with that same childlike glee — as if you were a butterfly pinned under glass, twitching just for her.
You tried to crawl away, your breath catching — but she was already reaching out. The tip of her dagger grazed your throat with eerie care, a silver kiss beneath your jaw.
"Shh," she whispered, her voice suddenly soft. “Let me see what makes you so special.”
“Leave her fucking alone!” Dabi raised his voice while fighting the mutated vampire, but Toga chose to ignore him.
You whimpered. “Don’t touch me!”
The blade sliced delicately — barely a touch — and a single bead of blood bloomed against your skin, trailing slowly down your neck like a tear.
Before you could recoil, the girl was there — quick as a viper, catching the drop with her nail and tasting it on her tongue.
Then everything stopped.
Toga froze. And then she shuddered.
A full-body tremble, obscene in its intensity. Her spine arched, lips parting in a moan that twisted into a manic giggle. Her pupils dilated until her eyes were nearly black.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, stumbling backward as if struck. “She tastes like divinity.” Her laughter turned hysterical, shrill and euphoric. “Do you smell that, Kurogiri?! That purity — fuck, that power — this isn’t just an anomaly. She’s a miracle. We have to bring her to the Lord. Now.”
Your body shook as you started crying — hot, silent tears. Your voice snagged in your throat, escaping only as a strangled whisper while you turned your head away, eyes squeezing shut, “Dabi!”
He didn’t answer.
You turned your head slightly, your vision blurred with tears and terror, and saw him — pinned beneath the largest of the mutated vampires. It was monstrous, towering and twisted, its back split with ruptured bone-blades that jutted out like broken wings. Dabi’s flames were consuming it, flesh sloughing off in wet globs — but still, the beast held on.
Its claws raked into his shoulder as he snarled, trying to force his way free. His fangs were bared, blue fire exploding from his body in bursts, but it only seemed to enrage the creature more.
“Dabi, please!” you sobbed again, reaching out in vain.
His eyes — just for a second — met yours. Through blood, through mist.
Then you realized fully.
He was fighting for you.
But you didn’t have time to see if he won.
One of the mutated vampires skittered across the wall like a spider, dropping to the ground in front of you with a hiss. Its deformed hand reached out — long, trembling fingers dragging toward your ankle, toward your wrist, toward your throat…
CRASH!
The desolate window on the far side of the hall shattered, glass exploding inward in a brilliant burst of wind and shards.
Wind howled through the breach.
A blur of red and gold.
A flash of beige cloth.
“GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!”
Wings swept through the dust — feathers like knives — as Hawks soared in the chamber first, diving across the room in a blur, slamming into the vampire about to snatch you. It crumpled under the force of the impact, shrieking as red feathers tore through its body.
Behind him came Aizawa, eyes glowing fiercely beneath his goggles as his scarf whipped out and snagged the nearest creature mid-pounce.
Present Mic stormed in next, blasting one of the mutated vamps through the far wall with a scream that shook the bones in your skull.
“You’re safe now,” Hawks shouted, landing in front of you, his back to you, his body a shield. “We’ve got you, you’re safe. Get up now, Y/N, we have no time to waste.”
And for the first time since the portal opened, you let yourself believe it.
But over his shoulder, Toga was still watching, playing with her dagger, ready to strike at any moment. Her nails dragged across her own thigh with glee. “TRAITOR!” she shrieked, her voice cracking like glass as she looked directly in Hawks’ eyes.
In an instant, she lunged — dagger flashing like a star born from madness, bounding over the floor with impossible speed.
“Toga, stand down!” Kurogiri’s voice boomed behind her, rippling with warning.
But she didn’t listen.
She launched herself at Hawks, snarling, fangs bared. “You’ll pay for what you did to Jin! You’ll pay for betraying Sangreal!” she screamed, teeth glinting. “You killed him! You let him die, you pretty-feathered bastard!”
Hawks barely had time to parry. His wings snapped forward in defense as he tried to cover himself with them, but Toga was fast — faster than he remembered. The dagger sank into his shoulder, piercing through skin and muscle in one clean thrust.
Blood sprayed.
“Fuck!” Keigo grunted, hissing at her with his fangs bared.
“Gotcha,” she cooed, eyes wide as she twisted the blade and caught the flow on her palm. “You’re gonna taste so sweet…”
But she didn’t get to finish.
“Enough.” Kurogiri’s voice rang like iron in the air.
A swirling vortex of shadows bloomed behind Toga, its hunger tugging at the edges of the room.
“You’ve collected what we needed,” he claimed, not unkindly, but with the chill of authority that couldn’t be challenged. “This isn’t the time. The Lord gave us a single order: retrieve the girl. We failed to secure her but we’ll return for her.”
Toga hissed, clutching Hawks’ blood-slicked dagger like a to, licking the blade with her long tongue. But even she knew better than to argue with Kurogiri when his tone turned final. “Oh, fine! You are the harbinger of boredom, Kurogiri, the grim reaper of revelry!"
She looked back at you, lips curling into a pout as she leant forward, toying with the dagger. “Next time, pretty girl. I’ll bring my best knife so we will be able to play a little, hihihi!”
Then she threw herself backward into the portal just as it yawned wider. Kurogiri’s form also dissolved into the void. The remaining vampires — the grotesque, mutated monsters still writhing in bloodlust — were pulled into the black like insects into a funnel. One by one, the remaining infected were pulled inside — some half-dead, others crawling — until the last of them vanished in a cyclone of dark mist.
The portal slammed shut with a thunderous clap, like the door of a mausoleum slamming closed.
With that, they were gone.
The silence left behind was almost worse than the chaos and clash.
Ash and dust still floated in the air like snow, catching on the blood-soaked floor.
Your throat burned where Toga’s dagger had kissed you, a single shallow cut, and the world spun in stuttering lurches.
From across the room, Dabi dragged himself forward.
His skin was even more burned and bloodied, his once white shirt shirt hanging in charred ribbons, the skin of his shoulder torn wide open and smoking from where the mutated vampire had raked its claws through him.
Blood poured in slow, sick pulses, painting a trail behind him as he crawled across the shattered tile. Finally, he reached you.
His hand, scorched and black at the fingertips like it had clawed its way out of a pyre, found your chin. He tilted it up with a broken tenderness, his joints creaking, his palm leaving a faint smear of blood on your skin. His thumb brushed along your jaw — just above where the dagger had kissed you.
The cut Toga left was still fresh. A delicate, cruel line. Red welled up in it like a whisper.
His marred thumb brushed it gently, his breath rasping like fire against your cheek. His eyes locked on yours, and for a moment he said nothing. Just watched as if memorizing your living face, terrified it might not remain that way.
Before he was able to say anything, a sharp voice cracked through the silence.
"Are you insane, Y/N?" Aizawa’s tone struck like a whip, sharp enough to draw blood.
He stepped forward, fury crackling behind every inch of him. His eyes glared beneath his goggles. “I told you,” he barked, “explicitly told you that you are too valuable to be doing reckless shit like this!”
Mic stepped up beside him, hand raised as if to calm. “Shota, c’mon—”
“No.” Aizawa snapped. “I’m done coddling her. Her blood is the reason Sangreal hunts us. That girl—” he pointed at your trembling form, jaw tight “—carries something they’ll level entire cities to claim. And she strolls into ambushes like she’s got a death wish!”
You flinched, instinctively curling closer behind Dabi’s silhouette, but when you spoke, your voice was steady, if barely audible. “I won’t be locked in a cage.”
The words struck Aizawa like a blow, halting his fury, even if for a moment.
You straightened your spine, wiping tears from your cheek with the back of a dirt-streaked hand. “You think I want this?” Your voice cracked, raw and desperate. “I didn’t ask to be some miracle mare, some freak. I just want to survive. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
A silence stretched long and heavy between you, hanging like a storm about to break.
Dabi’s low rasp shattered it. “You should take her,” he said, eyes locked on yours, fierce and unwavering. “Back to the safe zone. Before another Sangreal unit comes sniffing.”
Hawks, rubbing his wounded shoulder where Toga’s dagger had pierced, grunted his assent. “Yeah,” he growled through clenched teeth. “He’s right.” Then, with a reluctant glance at Dabi, he gave a brief nod. “Thanks for protecting Y/N.”
Dabi let the silence linger, the old wounds between him and Keigo raw and jagged. “Don’t thank me,” he muttered, voice rough with unspoken pain.
You shifted, weak but steady, leaning your weight against Dabi’s bloodied shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere without him.”
The words fell like a hammer.
Mic winced. “Y/N, don’t you even dare…”
“No.” You held your head up high, eyes flicking to every face in the room. “He’s the one who saved me back then. He saved me for the second time today. I feel safe with him around, even though he’s a vampire.”
Even Present Mic couldn’t mask the unease. “He was with Sangreal, sweetheart,” he claimed cautiously, eyes narrowing. “We can’t just let him slip into our place. It’s a risk none of us can afford. And, sorry to say it,” Hizashi’s gaze sharpened as it landed on Dabi, “but you’re a threat to us, a danger we can’t just ignore.”
“I was with them,” Dabi snarled simply.
All eyes turned to the white haired creature.
“I left Sangreal. Months ago. Long before tonight.”
Aizawa’s jaw clenched. “How do we know you’re not still their dog?”
Dabi didn’t flinch, grimacing. “You don’t. But if I were, I wouldn’t be bleeding out beside your golden child, trying to save her fucking life for the second fucking time. I’d be dragging her through a portal with Kurogiri and Toga.”
The room was still.
Then Aizawa and Mic exchanged a glance. A long, silent conversation passed between them — one born of war, of trust earned in blood, of impossible choices and darker realities.
They didn’t speak.
But you saw it. They were considering the possibility.
They were considering letting Dabi into the rebellion’s safe zone. Letting the blue-flamed vampire and exiled traitor of Sangreal to cross into the heart of the rebellion’s sanctuary. They were considering offering a shelter to the creature forged in blood and darkness, filled with insatiable bloodlust, once loyal to their greatest enemy. They were truly considering letting the vampire into the place they called home.
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