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Lure of the Blood Slinger
Prologue: Alluring Blood

Prologue: Alluring Blood

Most Vampires can't find me when the sun's out, but they can always smell me out, know where I've been while they slumbered or cowered, same coin. They'll never admit to it, though. Nyx's Sin is a bitch. Oh, I'm not supposed to say that word, or think it. Gustav's always saying it, though. He's the last person who should be scolding me, really.

Then there's the Beasts. They're frightful, but they're not too smart, this one wasn't at least, disregarding all attempts at preservation for a chance at a quick bite. The black, worm-like monstrosity squirmed, bleeding from two gaping pellet wounds, right between its... Well, what I think are the equivalent of nostrils or butt holes: four diagonal milky orifices, and one right in the middle — that's where Gustav got the nasty thing.

The scorching sands greedily drank its putrid black blood. Clearly, much like someone else I knew, the desert wasn't picky in matters of relieving its eternal thirst. Blood might as well have been a rare elixir out here – most Beasts just swallowed you whole, not a drop wasted.

The Desert Worm writhed in agony, sending plumes of dust and scorching sand flying. Eyes be damned, I held my breath. I couldn't afford to blink, that's what gets you killed. The worst was yet to come. Acidic pus shot out from its hairy pores, the worm still had some fight left in it. I jumped back a few meters, dreading the acidic goo. I'd seen it melt through armor and flesh, baring bone.

The worm raised itself, standing almost two meters tall. Its toothy maw bared countless fangs that were longer than my waist was wide, I swallowed hard. Then as two loud bangs went off, the monstrosity came crashing down in a mighty sand party with black blood and viscera for firecrackers.

The Desert Worm's shrieks became less defiant, more desperate, then there was silence. It was over. My small chest heaved up and down, I could hear my heart race, my bones ache in several places, but I didn't care. Pain meant death, but it also meant life. I lived.

The sight of the dead worm made me grin. 'That's what you get for trying to eat me. Gustav would never let his precious lure get eaten, fool!'

Still, I admit, that gave me quite the scare. If Gustav decided that he didn't need me anymore, I'd have died. What took him so long? I looked behind me, massive plumes of dust were just beginning to settle all around, scorching sands still wisping through the air, It looked like a sight you'd see at a Great Sandstorm's eulogy.

'When did that happen?'

Slowly, a tall figure's silhouette came into view, then a rugged voice resounded: "Don't bleed. Ever." Gustav said, bleeding himself from his hands that held Morbid and Death – two gluttonous guns that fed on Gustav's blood.

More of the dust settled, his full figure stood tall under the searing hot sun of the desert. Gustav's long white hair was disheveled. His breathing ragged. He looked pale, deathly beautiful, with sweat glistening on his lean build.

Behind him were dozens of Desert Worms, much larger than the one he just blew holes in. They were all either dead, or on their last breath. Gustav gazed at his handiwork with indifference. I almost felt sorry for the ugly creatures. They had such rotten luck. Against Gustav – the Blood Slinger – it was simply an unfair match-up!

Gustav, frowned, staring right at me, saying: "Did you hit your head, girl, what are you idling for? Quickly dig out the Shards from the Beasts' carcasses. We must make haste for the Fortress before our friends who lurk the night come out to play. I am in no mood for games tonight."

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"N-no I didn't! What took you so long? Ha! Blood Slinger? More like Bloody Sloppy!" I said, mortified, I wasn't nearly as helpless as he thought I was.

Gustav walked closer, I tensed up. He stood much taller than I did, wearing simple, loose-fitting, velvet silk garments and leather boots. I had never seen him wear armor on a hunt.

Despite the light sweat, his body emanated no heat or odor. Gustav called away Morbid and Death. They disappeared in a crimson haze around his hands. So did the blood. The only time I saw him bleed was when he used those gluttonous guns.

His hands quickly healed. Gustav raised his right hand to his mouth, licking his thumb, then bringing it towards my head. I closed my eyes, was he finally going to hit me, like the bad people before him?

I felt his cool, gentle, touch. No, not cool, cold. His hand felt so cold against my skin. He settled for a spot right above my eyebrow, rubbing it with his wet thumb. I felt the tiny wound on my forehead burn – one I got from poking my head against a cactus while drinking greedily from its juicy flesh, stupid, I know – then the pain dulled. It had healed.

"All for a drop of blood." Gustav said, under his breath. He furrowed his brow, looking at the gory sight before us. 'He didn't hit me...'

"Hurry now, the Shards." Gustav said. He let go and looked west, towards the Fortress, the Eastern Sun was just about to set. We didn't have long before the one in the west did too.

'...Ugh, but he's still making me dig through their guts, I'll stink for another week!'

I reluctantly walked over to the carcass that just tried to make a meal out of me: toothy maw, hairy pores, acidic pus, the lot, it meant nothing now. The Desert Worm was dead, and I – a small-chested, silver-haired, lithe, sixteen-year-old girl with more bark than bite – had lived.

I took out a crimson dagger from its sheath around my waist – which I did not forget about in my scuffle with the monstrosity – it's all about the right timing with these things. And there was no better time than right after a kill.

The crimson dagger shimmered beautifully in the light. I held my breath for what was next.

My hand shook, so did the dagger it held, but it steadied as I breathed out. I easily cut through the tough hide of the Beast's abdomen, spilling out its guts. 'That's a Blood Enchantment, for you. Gustav's, no less.'

Even with my thin arms, and weak muscles, I could easily fell large Beasts with this little crimson dagger he gave me – if I got close enough or somehow, gods be damned, the Beast stood still – usually, that meant Gustav had riddled it full of holes already, and I was stuck with gut-removal duty.

It helped that the Beasts didn't come too close to the Fortresses. But that's only because the Humans built them – they were a curious bunch, with their Relics and Artifacts.

There were few things that Humans put their minds to that they couldn't achieve, and even then, it was usually only a matter of time. At least, that's what Gustav said.

It was because of Humans that the hunter became the hunted.

Defying the natural order of things with little regard for consequence is perhaps the one Human sentiment that is as much a bane as it is a boon.

That's what makes them much more dangerous than Beasts, their cold intelligence and treachery. Perhaps, only our kind surpasses them in that regard.

With a grimace, I dug out a dazzling crystalline material from the carcass of the worm – a Shard, This was a precious substance that Humans paid a pretty coin for.

Shards drove Bounty Hunters, like Gustav, all over their Fortresses, slaying these dangerous Beasts for them. Of course, as his lure, I had to go along with him. It made me wonder at times, were Vampires truly superior?

The humans didn't come hunting the deadly Beasts in our backyards for currency, after all.

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