When Francis appeared next, he was seven stories high, perched upon the roof of a nearby apartment complex. His legs dangled off the edge, a small content smile on his face as he felt the cool breeze the night had to offer.
He wanted to say that it was strange how… alive he felt basking under the midnight moon. Maybe it had something to do with his Vampiric physiology that heightened his mood at night.
Who knows?
"What to do, what to do…" He muttered, sniffing the air and focusing his hearing to pick up on anything interesting. He heard it all. Muffled sounds of creeping criminal activity, hiding and rampaging under the soft blanketing of the grace of night and her darkness.
To the revving engines of the late night drivers and taxi systems. He even heard the screeching and clicking of stressed metal coming from underground. The subway system.
His grin strained humorously. "And there goes my night of fun." Standing up to his full height, he dominated the city view below. His throat growing taut, a slight burn etching behind his eyes.
Francis' eyebrows knitted slightly, his red eyes driveling over the city blocks with heavy scrutiny. He did this for a few moments, humming and tapping his fit with impatience until suddenly, he stopped.
His brows knitted a bit further. Anteiku…?Let me guess, it's a cafe full of ghouls. He chuckled to himself. Catching a few eyes from a couple wandering cattle below. With a gust of wind, he soared through the air like a fish in water, drifting to a hovering halt just across the street from the shop.
"Its bustling even at this time of night." He smirked, "Perfect." A club or anything of the sort seemed like perfect cover for a perpetual night owl like himself. But as he watched the assortment of civilians enter and exit, he picked up on the subtle hints of cool, old jazz that pumped within the building's speakers.
What is this shit an old-soul safe haven? He joked inwardly. Stepping off the building and plummeting at high speeds–the soles of his feet directed towards the empty concrete below, shaded in shadows.
His hands remained in his pockets even as he fell several stories only to land as if he were a feather. Not a sound, dent or even a groan left his mouth or the pavements.
Francis moved with a divine fluidity, his every stride drawing in more and more eyes as he approached the entry line. It was backed up, nearly all the way towards the end of the city block.
The vampire whistled, "Now I really need to see what all the bustle is about." He muttered, stalking straight up to the behemoth he assumed was the bouncer.
Standing imposingly at the beginning of the line and at the entrance of the door, was a duo of two lean-muscle built japanese men. Bald headed with tattoos covering their necks while Francis noted one having one on their foreheads. An X with a cross delivered through the midst of it.
"Get to the back of the line, my man. " The man stepped forward, blocking Francis off. The one in question simply smiled, flashing his pearly whites and revealing his fangs.
The guard glanced towards his buddy, both of them giving subtle gestures to communicate a possible disturbance. The crowd of people watched with interest, strung off drugs or high off life. Francis could feel that this situation was a pot of gold.
All on the first night too, how am I so lucky! He didn't respond immediately. He locked eyes as he telepathically invaded their minds.
[He's trouble. I don't like this. Defuse the situation, call the police. Try not to kill him, I can't get fired.] Was how the Sakura tree tatted guard who sized Francis up, thought. While the other, Francis couldn't deny his intrigue.
The x-cross tatted guard continued to check and let people filter in and out of the club with practiced finesse–Telltale signs he's been a bouncer or in the guarding business for a while.
[From the brats piercings, to his gaze and his open confidence. He's a scourge. I wish he would try to get in, I'll send his little black ass packing.] Francis heard a distant muffled vibration. Metal wriggling against denim fabric.
The unique-tatted guard pulled his phone out, switching to an entirely different language–One that Francis couldn't quite make out.
( {[ → Will distinguish foreign languages translated to English. Because I am a single brain celled individual who only speaks english. Enjoy. – Author)
{["Bishop. I'm still at Anteiku… How are things? Am I needed back at headquarters?"]} The man stopped talking and Francis could make out the distinct, middle-eastern accent–One that the vampire couldn't grasp completely.
If I had to say, that's Greek they're speaking.
{["You will stay where you are, Minos. I take it that the operations are going smoothly? Avoiding hero interest, yes?"]}
The guard nodded, humming in agreement. {["Of course, Bishop. We have a few regulars–Ones you could expect though. R-Rated Hero. The rabbit… I believe the giant bitch too."]} Minos grunted as he pushed a club-goer to the side. Throwing him out of the line as he simultaneously pulled the under-aged boy's fake ID from out of his hand.
All the while maintaining his phone call seamlessly.
"H-Hey! What the big ide—" The boy didn't even get a chance as Minos drove a nasty chop to the boy's throat before sweeping his feet from beneath him. Driving the kid to a heaving mess riddled with pain.
Francis tilted his head, his brows knitting. He stepped forward, receiving a stern hand on his chest, halting his movement. "Get to the back of the line, kid. Don't do this, it's not worth it."
Francis scoffed. Locking eyes with the man as he began his compulsion. His rage rising to the tip-top of his throat, escaping through his tongue like a quivering snake, just eager to strike.
The Vampires pupils constricted, his serpentine eyes piercing the guards soul–["Shut the hell up and blow your own brains out you useless, seeping bag of garbage. You will never be the big man you hope to be. So do us the fucking favor."]
And in the next moment, the crowd went from gasps of concern, to those of complete horror as the guard unhooked his gun from his holster and put the pistols barrel to the roof of his mouth, seamlessly pulling the trigger and delivering his brains to the sky, and raining blood and brain matter upon the club goers.
Francis' eyes were colder than ever, his wrath still dominating his movements as he truly embraced his title as the Primordial of The Night, and the one who stands at the top of it all, the ultimate predator.
"GYAAAA!"
"H-HOLY SHIT—T-THAT GUY JUST K-KILLED HIMSELF!!"
"IM OUT THIS BITCH, MOVE!"
"HELP!!! CALL THE COPS, FUCK THIS! WHERE ARE THE HEROES!?"
But before they could get past the block, all sixty club-goers were frozen in place. Francis' eyes were strict with his unending power. Blood-red veins peeping from nasojugal folds.
Signifying his active hunt and his usage of powers. He telepathically connected to every single one, diving deep into their minds as he delivered a single command.
["Forget this moment. Go back to what you were doing. Be normal everything is fine."] And at once, the civilians folded back into their line. Francis stepped forward as he approached the quivering Minos.
The only man who hadn't been affected by Francis' immature display of wrath. With a flick of Francis' finger the dead body guard's corpse ignited, and under the silver sterling moon, no one even cared.
As blood, bone, flesh and hair all burned to nothingness–Incapcitated by the power of Hells Flame. It burned a dark, eerie orange that cascaded into deep onyx. And when it finished it dispersed.
"D-Demon!" Minos shouted, stepping backwards before his face discarded the fear and displayed his own rage. The phone in his hand buzzed from the stressed voice on the other end.
"You will not beat me! You devil! Heroes will be here, they will have heard the gunshot and will investigate!" The Japanese man pulled back his sleeves, his skin rippling before shimmering with a thick white hide reminiscent of a polar bear.
"Bishop! I have to handle this. I will call you when I'm done." And he hung up. The club-goers were still in their trances even as the two prepared to square off.
Francis scoffed, "You really think a fancy bit of fur will save you from this ass whoopen?" He asked mockingly. A challenging smirk on his face igniting the wounded pride and raging fear within Minos' heart.
The mutant quirk user growled, readying himself as he dashed towards Francis. Signifying the second victim of the Vampires wrath.
And the revelation of something absolutely terrifying…