Evening fell.
The group paid a brief visit to the local hospital to check on the neighboring county's surviving Sheriff. His wife was by his bedside, and upon learning that Erin's emergency field dressing had stabilized him long enough for the paramedics to arrive, she was overcome with emotion.
Holding her five-year-old son and three-year-old daughter close, she tearfully thanked Erin over and over again, her relief and gratitude completely laid bare.
Watching the scene unfold, Gwen smiled softly and leaned toward Locke.
"This is exactly why Mom and I support Dad being a police officer."
Locke offered a warm smile in return.
By the time they finished dinner and made their way back to the hunting lodge, the Department of Homeland Security agents had already begun moving various monitoring setups and technical gear into the main lobby.
Rebecca and her husband had temporarily relocated to one of the guest rooms. They would be leaving together tomorrow, though her husband planned to return shortly after to keep an eye on the property, determined to make sure the federal agents didn't strip the place bare when they wrapped up their operation.
...
In the dead of night...
Locke opened his eyes. He glanced at Gwen, who was sleeping peacefully beside him, and slipped out of bed with absolute care.
His Doppelganger moved seamlessly into the bathroom to handle any immediate discrepancies. Locke, utilizing his Stealth proficiency, didn't make a single sound. He slipped past the S.H.I.E.L.D. tactical elements actively working and conducting night patrols around the perimeter, entering the silent, undisturbed depth of the forest completely unnoticed.
After all, while it was perfectly fine for his Doppelganger to sit on the couch and converse with Gwen, leaving a construct to share a bed with her felt somewhat unsettling to him.
He looked up. A full moon seemed to rest right on the tips of the pine branches, looking so close it could be grasped. Locke extended his right hand toward it.
'...Wait a minute.'
'I'm a vampire now, not a werewolf. I don't need to worship the moon.'
Locke shook off the automatic impulse and let out a quiet chuckle.
"Switch!"
*Vrrr—*
Instantly, Locke's pupils contracted. Within his sea of consciousness, a torrent of raw, boundless energy surged forth, transforming into the purest essence of dark power as it flooded every fiber of his being.
His complexion grew progressively pale, though it lent his features a distinctly sharp, aristocratic elegance. His pristine blue eyes shifted, a crimson hue washing through the irises until they turned a piercing, brilliant scarlet.
Even his build shifted slightly toward a leaner, more graceful frame, yet the physical strength coursing through his muscles didn't diminish in the slightest; if anything, he felt exponentially more powerful.
Locke called up his status interface.
Identity: Vampire
Class: Emperor (You have established a completely unique lineage. Without a doubt, an Emperor.)
Description: The true Vampire race is distinct from mere leeches. You do not require blood to sustain your existence, and you are entirely immune to the effects of sunlight. You now possess the authority to sire progeny belonging exclusively to your own bloodline, bound by absolute loyalty to you.
...
Locke arched an eyebrow. 'That's it?'
Such a brief description for a high-tier class?
He extended his hands, watching as precise, razor-sharp claws extended smoothly from his fingertips. He could instinctively feel that these talons could tear through solid structural steel as effortlessly as cutting through warm tofu.
With a flick of his wrist, a mirror materialized in his hand.
Locke studied his reflection. The features staring back were sharp, pale, and carrying a haunting elegance, complete with brilliant crimson eyes and two distinct, sharp fangs resting against his lip when he bared his teeth.
If he didn't know better, standing next to his own regular Doppelganger, anyone would assume this was a completely unrelated individual.
"Huh."
Locke's eyes brightened. He raised a hand, tracing the contour of his fangs under the moonlight.
"I just had a rather intriguing idea."
What was the golden rule of navigating the wider world? A wise companion once noted that when operating across different circles, creating high-quality alternative identities is absolutely essential.
To that end, Locke had used a pair of system-generated sunglasses to establish the persona of the Peerless Assassin—an identity that practically only existed when the specs were on.
And now?
"Let's see," Locke murmured, resting his chin in his hand as his mind worked through the possibilities.
"My first alternative persona is the Peerless Assassin, since that fits the style perfectly. This second persona belongs to a primeval vampire lineage, so I need a title that carries the appropriate weight. It can't be generic."
It was much like managing multiple relationships—if you casually threw out a fake name and accidentally muttered a different one the following morning, the entire charade would collapse.
Of course, with his Memory Palace configuration, Locke was incapable of making a clumsy mistake like that, but it was always better to establish an airtight foundation from the start.
"Perfect."
His eyes lit up as his mind flashed back to the topic he and Gwen had discussed earlier that afternoon.
"Cain. The progenitor of the bloodline... Cain. It fits the narrative beautifully."
What if Gwen argued that canonical scripture offered no evidence linking Cain to vampires? That was entirely accurate. Cain wasn't a standard, blood-drinking parasite; he was the sovereign of a true vampire lineage.
It was flawless. Another airtight alternative identity secured.
More importantly, Locke realized he no longer needed to actively switch into his Witch persona to manipulate the boundless energy streams; he could channel that raw force directly through his newly unlocked vampire capabilities.
*Boom!*
In a fraction of a millisecond, Locke vanished from his position, instantly reappearing over three hundred meters away. Back at his starting point, a perfect afterimage was only just beginning to fracture and dissolve into the air.
He was actively holding back. If he accelerated to his absolute maximum capacity, he would easily tear right through the sound barrier.
While S.H.I.E.L.D.'s presence didn't particularly worry him, the agents hadn't actively crossed him either, and Locke had no desire to court unnecessary complications.
Next came his sensory perception.
Locke closed his eyes and tilted his head up slightly. Instantly, every ambient sound in the surrounding wilderness—even the muffled vibrations echoing deep within the rock formations—was mapped clearly within his mind.
As for the hunting lodge, despite being a full one and a half kilometers away, the conversations inside reached his ears with pristine clarity.
He easily picked up the transmission Natasha Romanoff and Barbara Morse were routing back to S.H.I.E.L.D. Command.
"Did you establish a trajectory?"
"James," Natasha's voice carried clearly across the distance.
"A rogue vampire asset. Apprehended six months ago. For reasons unknown, he chose not to resist his arrest at the time, entering the state correctional facility following a closed trial. Two months ago, the warden discovered he had fatally compromised multiple inmates, keeping him in solitary confinement since. The warden, fearing the incident would jeopardize the facility's private operational contract, suppressed the reports. That explains our delayed intelligence response."
A significant portion of correctional facilities across the country were operated by private corporate entities. While an unexplained casualty wouldn't necessarily result in severe federal penalties, it heavily compromised their operating margins.
For a corporate venture, profitability was the sole priority. It was far more cost-effective to quietly compensate the deceased's relatives and falsify a medical report citing a sudden illness than to hire expensive lobbyists to manage political fallout after the truth leaked.
"Do we have a visual on him?"
"Active tracking is underway."
"We've reviewed the surveillance feeds along the perimeter of the Leica Lake range. There is no indication James has breached the external perimeter; he remains localized within the mountain network. We have established a comprehensive blockade."
S.H.I.E.L.D. might possess limited experience dealing with certain exotic phenomena, but when it came to vampires, the agency had a well-established track record.
Through their consistent, quiet interventions, while rogue elements occasionally surfaced within civilian sectors, they were typically contained before causing widespread disruption.
In fact, this specific containment division was one of Nick Fury's favorite achievements to highlight during his career. Had it not been for his performance handling historical vampire containment protocols, Fury would never have secured the Director's chair, regardless of the significant backing he received from his predecessor, World Security Council member Alexander Pierce.
Locke listened to the tactical exchange for a moment longer.
'James?'
He ran the name through his Memory Palace, quickly locating the mugshot that had been posted on the corkboard in the county sheriff's briefing room earlier, cleanly matching the face to the profile.
Then... Just as Locke prepared to deactivate his vampire form, his senses swept across a specific cabin building, causing him to pause.
That was Erin's room.
Inside the quarters, Erin was emitting low, muffled groans. It wasn't an expression of release, but rather the strained, agonizing sounds of someone desperately trying to suppress an intense wave of physical torment.
Evidently, her withdrawal symptoms had flared up again with severe intensity.
Locke shook his head, shifting smoothly back into his standard form. A few moments later, he returned toward the lodge's utility area, a sleek vial containing a shimmering purple fluid now resting in his hand.
Antidote: Eradicates all forms of toxins and systemic impurities!
This was an item Locke had purchased and stockpiled during a flash sale in the system's luxury store. He preferred to operate with a healthy margin of safety, always ensuring he was prepared for unexpected contingencies. Systemic addiction, at its core, was simply another form of chemical toxicity.
'Well, what can I say? I'm just an inherently kind-hearted individual,' Locke thought to himself.
He prepared to quietly slip back into the residential wing, intending to administer the solution once Erin finally managed to fall into an exhausted sleep.
However, the sudden crank of an automotive engine broke the silence. A black Ford pickup truck was waved through the checkpoint by the S.H.I.E.L.D. night patrol, accelerating rapidly down the access road toward the lower valley.
'What's the situation there?'
Locke watched from a distance as Erin's silhouette flashed past the truck's window, leaving him momentarily surprised.
'Don't tell me she finally hit her limit and cracked under the strain?' Locke's brow rose as he tracked the vehicle. He glanced back at the silent hunting lodge, then watched the Ford pick up speed as it tore down the road, its occupant seemingly driving with immense urgency. His eyes narrowed slightly.
Something wasn't right.
Locke gauged the trajectory Erin was taking. She wasn't navigating toward the highway leading to the county seat; her route was tracking directly toward... the reservoir at the base of the valley?
'Wow. Is she planning to drive into the water?'
'That seems a bit extreme,' Locke thought, entirely caught off guard by the development.
Had he not witnessed it, that would be one thing. But he had seen it, he had already resolved to cure her dependency, and his charitable impulse had already been activated.
For her to go out and throw herself into a reservoir now—what was the meaning of that? Was she trying to insult his generosity?
More practically, they were scheduled to depart tomorrow. If she went and drowned herself tonight, the entire group would wake up to a missing person report, which would inevitably delay their return to New York by several days while a search recovery was conducted.
Locke found the prospect deeply tedious. If that happened, should he stay behind to help look, or simply head home?
'At the end of the day, I'm simply too cursed with a savior complex,' Locke thought, humorously criticizing his own altruistic tendencies.
He instantly shifted back into his vampire form. Without breaking the sound barrier or alerting the perimeter guards, he blurred into motion, tracking the fading tail lights through his heightened senses. Locking onto Erin's unique physical signature, he closed the distance with terrifying velocity.
The exact moment Locke's silhouette vanished into the tree line...
A remarkably pristine, entirely non-threatening—and frankly, rather endearing—little bat hovered quietly in the midnight sky. Watching the streak of dark energy blur across the landscape below, its round, uncannily human-like eyes were wide with unblinking focus.
"Is... is he the fiancé Mother wrote about in her journal?"
"..."
***
200 stones goal next.
Read 40 Chapters early on P-atreon.com/Redestro666