CHAPTER 398: SAVE YOUR BREATH

(Third Person).

The night sky burned red.

Flames rose high into the clouds, devouring the once-proud city of Duskmoor. The air was thick with smoke, ash, and the metallic stench of blood.

Cries echoed through the streets, the terrified screams of humans mixing with the unholy shrieks of vampires.

They came in waves.

The vampires, dozens upon dozens of them poured through the shattered gates, their eyes gleaming crimson, their movements too fast for mortal sight.

They were like an army unleashed.

Bullets tore through the air as human soldiers fired desperately, but their rounds were useless clattering off stone, glancing off flesh that healed faster than it could bleed.

A vampire leapt through a hail of gunfire, landing on a squadron of soldiers. In seconds, throats were torn open, rifles snapped like twigs.

One soldier managed to ignite a grenade before he died. The explosion lit the night, scattering bodies and glass into the street.

Yet the monsters kept coming. They crashed through buildings, dragging the living from shattered windows.

A group of them descended upon a museum, their claws raking through marble as priceless artifacts crumbled beneath their fury.

The old clock tower, a symbol of Duskmoor’s endurance, fell next, collapsing in a thunder of stone and dust.

The vampires didn’t just feed; they erased everything they got their hands on.

Every monument, every symbol of human pride was brought down. Flames leapt across rooftops. Windows burst under the pressure of the heat.

In one square, a group of surviving civilians knelt beside an overturned police van, crying out for help.

They barely had time to look up before a pale shadow dropped among them, its red eyes glowing.

The screams that followed were swallowed by the roar of the burning city.

---

Miles away, beyond the smoke and carnage, a different kind of silence ruled.

The lonely highway stretched between the woods, empty except for the faint fog creeping along the asphalt. But then, the fog began to stir unnaturally, twisting as if alive.

Out of the darkness, figures emerged, twenty of them.

Their steps were soundless, their movements fluid and predatory. The leader, tall, his eyes like molten garnet lowered his head to the ground and inhaled deeply.

When he straightened, his expression was grim. "Humans," he hissed. "Their scent lingers here."

Another vampire, leaner, with sharp cheekbones and a cruel smile stepped forward. "They humans took him through this path."

A third one snarled, the sound echoing across the empty road. "They will pay. We will drown this land in their blood."

The leader’s eyes flickered toward the distant glow of the city, the faint red haze that marked Duskmoor burning. "His scent leads beyond the smoke. Follow it."

They vanished in a blur, shadows darting between trees, faster than any wind.

The quiet highway fell still again. Only the whisper of leaves remained, carrying with it the faint promise of death.

On the other hand, Brackham who had received news of the sudden frightening chaos that had descended upon his city, almost suffered a mini heart attack.

But his interest lay on his trophy gift from Alpha Draven.

---

Duskmoor’s Government House.

The walls trembled faintly.

At first, the scientists thought it was nothing—just the echo of distant chaos from the city above.

But as the vibrations deepened, the sterile lights flickered, and a few metal trays rattled on the counters, scattering surgical tools across the floor.

A low, hollow groan filled the lab, like the earth itself was warning them.

The doctor looked up from his clipboard, his face pale under the harsh white light. "Did... did you feel that?"

No one answered. Their glances darted toward the far end of the lab where, inside a reinforced glass chamber, the captured vampire sat chained to the wall.

His body was still, his head slumped forward, but his crimson eyes glimmered faintly in the shadows, half-closed, yet unmistakably awake.

"Check his vitals!" Fenwick barked. "Quickly!"

Two younger assistants rushed to the monitors, typing furiously. "Everything’s fluctuating, sir! His pulse is rising!"

Fenwick’s throat went dry. The vampire shouldn’t have been capable of this, not after the dose of sedative they had pumped into him.

Yet here he was, the chains quivering as faint growls began to rise from his chest.

Then came the sound, faint but deliberate—the creaking stretch of metal under strain.

Fenwick froze. "No... no, that’s not possible—"

Before he could finish, the elevator doors at the far end of the lab slid open with a hiss.

Mayor Brackham stepped out, flanked by two armed guards. His coat was slightly dishevelled, his face tight with exhaustion and fear.

His eyes immediately went to the glass chamber, and the thing inside.

"How is it holding up?" Brackham demanded, striding across the room.

Fenwick quickly stepped forward. "The sedative is wearing off faster than expected, sir. His physiology seems to be—"

"Skip the science," Brackham cut in sharply. "Is he secure?"

Fenwick hesitated, glancing nervously toward the vampire. "For now."

Brackham turned fully to face the creature. Despite the chains and the bullet hole still faintly visible in its skull, the vampire sat with eerie stillness, his eyes glowing faintly as they tracked Brackham’s every movement.

The silence between them was suffocating.

Brackham’s pulse pounded in his ears. For a moment, all he could hear was the faint clinking of metal as the vampire slowly, deliberately lifted its head.

Their eyes met.

A slow, chilling smile spread across the creature’s pale lips. "You look afraid," it rasped, its voice rough but laced with mockery. "Does your city burn, little human?"

Brackham stiffened, forcing a sneer. "It’s under control."

The vampire’s laughter was low and cruel. "You think you control what walks the night? You think your walls and weapons can hold back what’s coming?"

Brackham’s jaw tightened. "Might I remind you that you are in no position to lecture me, monster."

"Monster?" the vampire echoed softly, tilting his head. "You chain what you fear, and then pretend it makes you powerful. But you... you have already lost."

The words slithered into the air, heavy and venomous.

Brackham took a slow step closer, glaring through the glass. "You should save your breath. You will need it for the lessons I plan to teach you."

"Pray you live to see that day," the vampire murmured, baring his fangs in a faint, bloodstained grin.

Brackham glared at him, and without uttering a word or retaliating this time, turned sharply and strode toward the elevator, his shoes clicking against the floor.