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Chapter 75: Evil Saw You And Decided He Wasn't Evil Enough
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The man who stepped inside seemed to suck the warmth from the room.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed entirely in black leather that creaked softly with his movement... It was Blade.
A long, tailored trench coat, a high-necked shirt, heavy boots. His head was shaved smooth, and he wore wraparound sunglasses with orange lenses, despite the dim diner interior.
Everything about him; from his silent entrance to his immobile posture; screamed lethal, focused purpose.
This was a predator entering a room of lesser creatures.
The aura around him was palpable: a contained violence, a profound, weary disgust, and the chilling certainty of a man who had walked through hell so many times he now owned real estate there.
The two masked robbers, startled by this new arrival, swung their guns toward him.
The man in black didn't flinch. He didn't even raise the weapons in his waistband.
[BLADE! HE'S HERE! THE ENTRANCE WAS PERFECT!]
[Adam predicted the main character entrance! He knows how the narrative works!]
[So fucking iconic!]
[What's with the brunette? Why does Adam have a knife to her throat?]
[I knew it! She must be a demon! Mephisto wouldn't let Adam succeed in his goals so easily!]
[That makes so much sense.]
[That's so dumb, like, she's obviously a vampire since they're here hunting the vampire king.]
The tension in the diner stretched to a breaking point. The robbers were confused, caught between their original plan and whatever the fuck was happening now.
And there was Adam Cypher, the knife held steady in one hand, using his other to calmly scoop another spoonful of his venison stew.
He brought it to his mouth, never taking his eyes off the scene unfolding.
He chewed slowly, savoring it, then gave a small, satisfied nod.
He fucking knew, as the main character of the show, that trouble would follow.
Diner robberies are a classic, so it must happen to him. It seems that the writers of this show lack creative vision... Unless he's somehow the writer of this show, in that case, it's genius.
Confusion reigned in the diner, thick and heavy as the smell of old grease. Who was the terrifying man in black?
Why did the handsome one have a knife to the pretty brunette's throat? And why were the two robbers soon lying in a heap like discarded laundry?
Blade provided the answers to how it all happened. He simply walked towards the two confused men.
They were scrambling back, their hands shaking, yelling in panicked Romanian for him to stay away.
As they fumbled, finally losing it and deciding to end all the new elements of confusion in the diner, even if one of them looked imposing, so while the two were trying to aim, Blade moved.
It was absolutely superhuman speed, quite flashy too. It was the speed of an absolute predator.
Blade is, after all, a half vampire, and against two weak humans, it was whatever the opposite of skill based matchmaking is.
He was a half-step ahead of their panicked synapses. His hands shot out with something akin to taps, enough to throw the guns out of their hands and even shatter their hands.
If that wasn't enough, he followed with brutal, precise grabs. He seized their remaining functional wrists and squeezed.
The sound of snapping bones was a sickening, wet crack that made the elderly woman at the counter whimper.
Their screams were cut short as Blade yanked them forward, using their own momentum, and brought their heads together in a sickening CRUNCH of colliding skulls.
He let them drop, unconscious and bleeding. The entire confrontation had lasted less than three seconds.
Silence, save for the tinny folk music from the jukebox.
Blade ignored the stunned patrons. He turned and walked with deliberate strides towards Adam's booth.
His wraparound sunglasses hid his eyes, but his focus was palpable, a laser pointed at Adam, whose steak knife was still resting against the brunette's jugular.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Blade's voice was a gravelly rasp, devoid of curiosity, full of accusation. "She's not a vampire."
[BLADE DOESN'T FUCK AROUND. TWO GUYS? MANHANDLED.]
[I knew it, she must be a demon!! Where is the guy who called us dumb and claimed she would 'obviously' be a vampire, huh?]
[True true, where are ya?]
[Sure, she may not be a vampire, but she could be a half breed of something!]
[That's so bullshit, Blade would see it right away!]
[Hey, get off my dick, Blade's senses betrayed him more than once in canon, it could happen again, or some bullshit like that, anyway, my guess was the logical one.]
[High on copium.] [And on crack.]
[I'm high on your mum, shush.]
[True, my mom would make you high, considering she's a pile of bones.]
[...] [Lmao] [Lol] [Tf] [Ok.]
Adam nodded, not taking his eyes off the woman's terrified, wide-eyed expression.
He smiled, a serene contrast to the violence and the cold steel. "Indeed, she's not. She's something… much worse."
Tony, who had been watching with the analytical detachment of a man used to battlefield assessments, spoke up.
"Let me guess. She's a demon. No wonder she'd approach the walking trouble-magnet instead of, well, the great 'me.'" He gestured to himself with a weary flourish.
Adam chuckled, genuinely impressed. "You hit the mark."
Tony's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, she's actually a demon? She looks… normal. Human."
Adam shrugged, as if discussing a minor engineering flaw. "You know. Demons. Possession bullshit. They're renters, not owners. Terrible for the property value."
Blade's frown deepened. Without another word, he reached into his trench coat.
He produced a wooden stake, its tip darkened with old stains and etched with tiny, intricate runes that seemed to drink the light.
In his other hand, a small, unassuming tube of clear liquid; holy water, distilled and blessed.
Blade held them at the ready, his body coiling slightly, his instinct sharpening at the brunette, even if his vampire-detecting senses were silent.
He knows just how dangerous demons are.
The brunette's panicked act was masterful; her eyes darted between the three men: the calm madman with the knife, the narcissistic billionaire, and the holy-armed hunter.
And as she listened to the diner owner frantically trying and failing to get a dial tone or a cell signal, courtesy of Adam's gentle, wide-area jamming, the performance shattered.
The fear melted from her face like wax under a flame. A smile emerged, wide and wrong.
Her tongue, an unnatural, too-pink length, snaked out and deliberately dragged itself along the flat of Adam's steak knife in a grotesque, languid lick.
The gesture was obscene, brimming with a contempt for the flesh it inhabited.
Tony recoiled instinctively. Blade's grip tightened on his holy assets.
Adam, however, simply pulled the knife back, breaking contact. He didn't want to spill innocent blood. The demon, clearly, had no such reservations about its host.
[THE LICK! OH GOD, THAT'S HORRIFYING!]
[It's so HOT.] [Kinky.]
[Fuck, how does Adam win against something like Mephisto?]
[I don't know, hope it isn't some bullshit plot armor.]
[The Illuminati shall help him with our prayers.]
[Oh. That's a normal thing to say.]
[Believe it or not, it's apparently, was scrolling through 4chan, and it was everywhere.]
[Saw it too, along with anti-prayers from the Anti-Cypher movement.]
[Tf is the Anti Cypher movement?]
[Apparently, a group of people who believe Adam to actually be the Anti-Christ.]
[Wow.] [Ahm.] [Yeah, never thought I'd hear that ever.]
Giggling resounded throughout the diner.
The sound that came from the woman's throat was a child's laugh filtered through a meat grinder.
"How did you know?" She asked, her voice now holding a layered, resonant quality, as if multiple entities were speaking at once.
Adam's smile returned, bright and conversational. "It was obvious. You're like an especially loose white hole…" He paused, his head tilting.
"That came out wrong. I mean, you're white, and you have a hole, but… I meant the other kind of white hole. The cosmological one. Releasing infinite negativity and desire."
He leaned in slightly. "And when someone radiates that much specific, petty malice directed at the lovely, exquisite person that I am, the suspect list is very short. It's either that annoying demon, or Hydra. Seems I was right."
"Hm. Interesting," The demonic brunette purred, shifting in her seat with a casual ownership of the body she wore. "You are, however, still just as rude. It's such rudeness that attracts trouble. Just like now."
Her smile turned eerie, predatory. "You see, word of your little… excursion here has reached certain ears. I couldn't help but want to make the journey a bit more entertaining."
"I've taken the liberty of introducing a few… roadblocks to the equation. Hope you don't mind, dear."
Adam's raised brow was the only sign of his interest. His expression settled into a flat, bored slate.
He had expected Mephisto's interference, but this petty, direct taunt was almost insulting.
He eyed the possessing entity with the cold focus of a pathologist examining a particularly stupid tumor.
"Are you perhaps retarded?" Adam asked, his voice devoid of inflection.
The diner seemed to grow colder.
"The word 'rude' was invented because of you. Evil saw you and decided he wasn't evil enough. Pedophiles have you as their idol."
Adam listed the insults with the calm cadence of a news anchor. "The most successful whore in history doesn't take as much dick as you do, because why the fuck are you on my dick all month long?"