75: 75 Escape (AVOT)

75 Escape (AVOT)

Rhain sharpened his senses, scanning for the presence of hunters in the vicinity. From a distance, he heard anxious voices gradually fade away. He moved stealthily through the dark, maze-like hallways, and as he neared an exit, he caught sight of several hunters through a window. They were hastily arming themselves before vanishing into the woods.

Frosthill had either created a significant enough distraction to occupy the hunters, or they had departed on a separate mission altogether. 

Emerging from his subterranean prison, Rhain found himself inside an unassuming cottage. He detected the aura of two hunters—one guarding the front door and another somewhere within the home. Deciding that incapacitating them would buy him more time for his escape, he chose to strike first.

He discovered the indoor hunter sprawled on a couch in a semi-conscious state. Maintaining a cautious distance, Rhain hurled a small object into the room. The hunter sprang to his feet, alarmed, and that's when Rhain let loose a crossbow bolt, hitting the man square in the chest. Charging forward, he made sure to silence the hunter permanently by slashing his throat. But not quickly enough—the hunter emitted a choked noise, alerting his companion outside.

Well, it didn't matter now. Only one left.

Seizing the opportunity, Rhain grabbed a decorative vase and hurled it through a window across the hall. The sound of shattering glass filled the room just as the remaining hunter burst in, his eyes immediately drawn toward the broken window. It was his last mistake. Rhain shot him from behind, lunging to drive the bolt deeper. Wrapping his arm around the hunter's neck and pinning him to the ground with a knee, he twisted violently, snapping the man's spine. 

Now with both dead, it was time for his final escape. Outside, the distant signs of civilization were hidden from view—obviously, they'd chosen a remote location to lessen his chances of discovery. Figuring there must be horses nearby for the hunters, Rhain circled the house and found two, just as he had suspected.

Grimacing as he mounted one of the horses—his crushed hands rendered nearly useless—he used his legs to guide the animal instead. Hunger clawed at his insides like a ferocious beast, each jolt of the horse exacerbating his physical torment. But thoughts of Daisy sustained him and he clung to her memory to remain alert and awake.

As he neared populated areas, the scent of human blood wafted toward him, activating something primal within. He realized, with a chilling clarity, that he was now unshackled from any semblance of control. His thirst had taken the reins, and he was nothing more than a predatory monster, prepared to feast on whoever crossed his path.

Rhain arrived at a farm, its scent carrying on the wind and saturating the air with the tempting aroma of human blood. Three heartbeats reverberated in his ears, multiplying in volume until it felt like a symphony of life, each beat a call he couldn't ignore. His body quivered, his insides clenched in agonizing pain, and his throat felt as if it housed a personal inferno.

Dismounting his horse as if in a trance, Rhain found himself irresistibly drawn to a stall where one heartbeat summoned him more urgently than the others. His vision tunneled into a monochromatic haze of red. Like a newborn vampire possessed by an insatiable thirst, he was consumed by the need for blood.

Once he found the man in a stall, he fed ravenously, his fangs plunging deep into his victim, draining him until there was nothing left. The man's lifeless body collapsed onto the ground, and Rhain was already stalking his second prey. As he feasted again, a sliver of self-awareness began to surface, a nagging thought in the back of his mind. Still, it wasn't strong enough to pull him away from his insatiable craving.

Finally reaching a point where he could theoretically restrain himself, Rhain still found the pain too overwhelming to resist further sustenance. Another heartbeat lingered in the distance, likely inside the farmhouse where a family resided. But he had already inflicted too much devastation here. It was time to move on. He needed to regain his full strength, and for that, he would find another source.

Climbing back onto his horse, his thoughts slightly more coherent, Rhain rode deeper into the woods. However, the hunger was still a torturous companion. More farmland stretched before him, so he halted at another farmstead. Straining his senses, he listened for signs of life. The chatter of children and adults reached his ears. Another family?

Cursing under his breath, Rhain was about to turn away when a young boy, burdened by a sack nearly as large as himself, emerged from the house. Rhain clenched his jaw, his throat still aflame, but his attention was riveted by the boy's dark hair—so similar to his own. Then his eyes narrowed as he noticed the bruising on one side of the boy's pale face.

As the boy rounded a corner, the sack fell from his grasp, splitting open to spill its contents. A man stepped out of the house, his face transitioning from calm to stormy as he took in the sight of the spilled sack and the terrified child.

"What have you done now?" he barked, exasperation etched into his features.

The boy, paralyzed by fear, remained mute.

With a disdainful wave of his hand, the man summoned the child closer. As the boy obediently approached, he visibly tensed, anticipating the blow. A surge of rage flooded Rhain, as if he were reliving his own childhood traumas. And, as expected, the man struck the boy on the head. "Can't you do one thing properly?" he sneered.

The boy remained silent, earning another smack on the head. Rhain recognized that reservation. It was often safer to say nothing and accept a beating, than risk worsening one's situation by speaking. Any utterance could be turned against you; they demanded that you speak, only to strike you when you did.

When the boy stayed silent, the man shoved him aside with callous disregard, and the boy tumbled to the ground. Rhain's gut clenched in an angry knot as he saw a girl, who appeared to be about the boy's age and bore a familial resemblance, emerge from the house to help him. However, the man halted her by placing a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Come," he commanded, his grip shifting to the nape of her neck in a manner that was unmistakably coercive. When she attempted to glance back at her fallen brother, he tightened his hold, as if to underline his control over her.

Now a woman stepped out of the house, cradling a cup of tea. One look told Rhain all he needed to know: she was another link in the chain of abuse. Unperturbed by the abuse unfolding before her, she sipped her tea casually.

Rhain dismounted his horse and emerged from the concealment of the woods. The young boy was the first to spot him, squinting as if to ascertain whether Rhain was friend or foe. As Rhain drew closer, the boy's eyes widened in horror, likely at the sight of blood staining Rhain's clothes.

The woman now noticed Rhain's approach, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Frank, someone is here," she announced, her voice tinged with wariness.

The man, Frank, released his grip on the girl and slowly pivoted to face Rhain, who didn't break stride. Sensing Rhain's presence, the boy withdrew in apprehension. Another man emerged from the house, walking past the woman and closing the distance between him and Rhain with purposeful strides. His eyes raked Rhain from head to toe, immediately looking suspicious. 

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Rhain's eyes flicked to the pistol tucked beneath the man's jacket.

"I am hungry," Rhain responded.

"We have no food for you. Now leave!" The man sneered, distaste wrinkling his nose.

"That's what they always used to say," Rhain muttered, almost to himself.

"What did you say?" The man's hand now revealed the firearm, as if to make his threat explicit.

Rhain smiled, a slow, unsettling grin. "I said, you are stingy."

The man took a menacing step closer, apparently unfazed by the latent aura that usually kept humans at bay. Perhaps his arrogance rendered him immune. "This will be your last warning, young man."

"Indeed," Rhain concurred. In a blur of preternatural speed, he seized the man, sinking his fangs deep into the his neck. The man gasped and squirmed, fumbling for his weapon, which Rhain had already effortlessly discarded.

This time, Rhain relished the kill, deliberately prolonging the man's suffering. The woman's scream pierced the air, even as Frank scrambled for his own pistol. But Rhain used the man's body as a shield, while his life drained away. A palpable scent of fear saturated the air, emanating from everyone present. Far from deterring him, it only heightened Rhain's insatiable appetite.

No problem. Two more potential victims remained. As Frank hesitated, pistol in hand, he finally opted to flee.

Rhain unceremoniously tossed aside the man he was draining, not fully sated but eager for more. He pursued fleeing Frank with lethal intent, capturing him with little effort. The woman, overtaken by terror, fled into the woods. She would serve as dessert, Rhain mused as he had his fill of Frank. 

He'd let her entertain the illusion of escape for a while. As he allowed the lifeless body of his most recent victim to slump to the ground, he swiveled to find two young heartbeats stubbornly lingering. Huddled near the steps of the house, the boy held his sister protectively. She avoided eye contact, but the boy met Rhain's gaze squarely.

Wiping the blood from his lips, Rhain savored the diminishing ache in his body. Ah, the relief was intoxicating.

He locked eyes with the boy, who had strikingly dark and courageously mature eyes. A twinge of something indescribable struck Rhain. The boy couldn't be older than nine—eight perhaps, or maybe just malnourished.

Rhain approached them cautiously, and the boy's grip on his sister tightened.

"Don't be afraid," Rhain murmured gently.

The boy studied him, clearly skeptical.

Crouching to their eye level, Rhain felt as if he were the one ensnared, entranced by a haunting familiarity. He almost forgot for a moment that he was supposed to compel them to forget. 

The girl slowly turned in her brother's embrace to glimpse at Rhain. At first cautious, her eyes grew increasingly curious. There was a glimmer of recognition there. Vampire. He could nearly read the word in her gaze.

"Do you know what I am?" he questioned, focusing on her.

She nodded tentatively, her eyes a mirror image of her brother's. Twins, perhaps, judging by their scent.

"What is your name?" Rhain inquired.

"Lily," she whispered.

"And you?" he directed at the boy.

"Lucas."

Rhain nodded. "Lily and Lucas," he repeated. "I am Rhain."

While Lucas remained guarded, Lily seemed slightly more trusting. "Will you…?" Her eyes drifted to the lifeless man nearby.

"No," Rhain assured her, and she seemed to believe him.

Why was he lingering here?

"Is this your home?" he queried.

They nodded in unison.

"Who were these people?"

"Landowners."

"And your parents?"1

"They passed away," Lucan said.

Confusion intermingled with an odd sense of responsibility settled within Rhain. He rose looking around, thinking he couldn't leave these bodies here and cause these children more trouble. 

Swiftly, he telekinetically transported the dead bodies into the woods, making it appear as if they had been mauled by wild animals—a common explanation for inexplicable deaths.

The woman, who had been desperately attempting to traverse the expansive farmland, soon became his much-delayed dessert. With that done, a heavy sense of urgency propelled him back onto his path to find Daisy. He couldn't afford to worry about these children now, although they weighed heavily on his conscience.

Wait. He'd forgotten to compel them to forget the incident. But he couldn't turn back now; time was already running out for Daisy.

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