Chapter 8: When the Bells Ring for Him
The bounty did not take long to bear fruit.
Gold had a way of sharpening people's eyes.
Max felt it the moment the forest went quiet.
No birds.
No insects.
Only the sound of his own footsteps—and another set that did not belong to him.
He stopped.
The hunger inside him stirred, uneasy.
Then—
A blade tore through the air where his head had been a heartbeat earlier.
Max spun, barely reacting in time. The sword struck a tree instead, holy runes flaring bright enough to burn the bark black.
"So it's true," a calm voice said. "You really do bleed."
The man stepped into the clearing.
Riven Holt.
A bounty hunter infamous for never returning empty-handed. His armor was light, designed for speed, his eyes sharp with experience rather than cruelty.
"Five thousand gold," Riven continued, lifting his sword. "That's your worth now, pretty vampire."
Max backed away slowly.
"I don't want to fight," he said honestly.
Riven laughed. "None of you ever do."
The First Death Knell
The fight was short—and brutal.
Riven was fast. Faster than any human Max had faced. Every strike was calculated, forcing Max backward, cutting him again and again. Silver burned through his skin. Holy seals exploded against his chest.
Max fell.
Hard.
His back hit stone, breath knocked from his lungs. Blood pooled beneath him—dark, steaming faintly in the cold air.
I'm going to die.
The thought was quiet. Almost peaceful.
Then something inside him screamed.
Not hunger.
Not rage.
Fear.
Fear of never seeing her again.
Fear of dying as a monster in the dirt.
Fear of being forgotten.
His heart—half-dead, half-cursed—pulsed violently.
If you are about to die… then live.
Power surged.
Not borrowed.
Not stolen.
Awakened.
Max's eyes burned crimson.
The ground cracked beneath him as he stood.
Riven staggered back, shock flickering across his face. "What—?"
Max moved.
He didn't remember crossing the distance—only the sound of air tearing, the sensation of impact, the bounty hunter flying into the trees like a broken doll.
When the dust settled, Riven was gone.
Alive.
Barely.
Max collapsed again, shaking violently, clutching his chest as the power faded.
Tears mixed with blood.
"I don't want this," he whispered. "I don't want to keep surviving like this…"
Victoria Hears the Truth
The bells rang at dawn.
Victoria froze mid-prayer.
They weren't mourning bells.
They were warning bells.
A junior priest burst into the chamber, breathless. "Saint Victoria! The Church has issued a bounty—"
He stopped when he saw her face.
"What kind of bounty?" she asked quietly.
"A vampire," he said. "One who walks under the sun."
Her rosary slipped from her fingers and hit the floor.
Gold coins clinked faintly as the notice was unrolled.
Her eyes found the description.
Young man. Unnaturally beautiful. Moves like nobility.
Her vision blurred.
"No…" she whispered.
The church walls suddenly felt too close. Too cold.
"They say he saved a woman," the priest continued. "Which makes him even more dangerous. Deceptive."
Victoria pressed her hand over her mouth.
Max…
Her Max.
The boy who used to give her half his bread.
Who smiled even when he was hungry.
Who promised her freedom when neither of them had power.
She fell to her knees.
"They're hunting him," she whispered, tears falling freely now. "You're hunting the man I love."
The priest said nothing.
The World Closes In
New names began to surface.
Lysa Greywind, a tracker who could smell cursed blood.
Brother Kael, a monk who specialized in purification by fire.
Eron Blackmark, a mercenary who hunted only for gold.
Every path Max walked grew narrower.
Villages closed their gates.
Inns turned him away.
Children cried when they saw him.
And every night, when death came close—too close—his power answered.
Each time stronger.
Each time darker.
Each time more painful.
Because every time he survived, he lost a little more of the boy Victoria loved.
Max stood at the edge of a cliff one night, staring at the distant lights of a town.
"If I disappear…" he whispered, voice breaking,
"…will the world finally be at peace?"
Far away, Victoria looked toward the same horizon.
"Please live," she whispered through tears.
"Even if the world hates you… please live."
And somewhere between heaven and damnation, Max turned away from the edge—choosing life, not because he wanted it…
…but because someone still believed in him.