After Arnaud was wounded by the gunfire from the armed men, the group remained silent for a few moments, stunned by what they had just witnessed.
"What the hell was that?" exclaimed one of the sicarios, still holding his weapon.
Another of the men, a burly one with a scar on his face, cautiously approached the motionless body of Arnaud.
"I don't know, but it seemed... strange. Did you see that thing on his head?" he said, crouching down to examine the fallen man more closely.
The others also approached, eyeing with distrust the figure covered in pelts and the strange jaguar-headed mask.
"Looks like some kind of costume or something. You think he's some kind of crazy guy?" commented one of the younger ones, keeping a safe distance.
The scarred man ran his hand over Arnaud's face, removing the mask. His eyes widened with surprise at the pale skin and features of the vampire.
"Doesn't look like a crazy guy. I'd say he's... a gringo," he murmured, exchanging uneasy glances with his companions “The motherfucker even hunted an endangered animal”
"Maybe we should get out of here. I don't like this situation at all, the government protects gringos too much," said one of the sicarios, taking a step back.
But the scarred man shook his head.
"We can't leave any traces. We have to take care of this," he replied, looking back at Arnaud's body.
After a brief discussion, the cartel members decided to take the body to their hideout nearby. They didn't want to risk someone else discovering what had happened.
♢♢♢♢
Once in the warehouse of the small town, they placed Arnaud's body on a table, observing it with a mixture of remorse and distrust.
"Alright, now what do we do with him?" asked one of the sicarios.
The scarred man scratched his chin, deep in thought.
"Get rid of the body," he responded, signaling one of his men.
Moments later, they brought several drums filled with a flammable liquid. As they poured the contents over Arnaud's body, someone entered the warehouse, and the scarred man stopped them.
"Sir, the boy has snuck into the kitchen again."
"That old woman lets him get away with it one too many times. The people in this town will have to learn the hard way who's in charge," he muttered. Before leaving, he took one last look at the pale face of the vampire.
♢♢♢♢
One of the sicarios remained in the warehouse as a guard, unable to burn the body inside and having to wait for the boss to transport it to the oven with the others. He decided to sit down for the moment and play on his cell phone while waiting.
However, something he could have never imagined happened behind his back. Arnaud's body slowly rose.
He approached the guard, unable to resist the call of the blood. The guard was too late to realize the danger behind him.
The hunger was too strong. With a desperate moan, Arnaud sank his fangs into the man's nape, drinking greedily.
♢♢♢♢
When Arnaud opened his eyes, he felt disoriented and weak. His body had managed to expel the bullet that had been lodged in his head.
Blinking, he looked around, recognizing the warehouse where he had been brought by the armed men.
That's when he smelled it: the unmistakable scent of fresh blood. His eyes widened with horror as he saw the corpse of the guard.
Arnaud closed his eyes, overwhelmed by a deep sense of guilt and self-loathing. He had promised not to give in to his instincts again, he had sworn to control his thirst for blood. But now, once more, he had succumbed.
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He moved away from the body, trembling. He looked at his hands stained with blood and felt disgusted with himself. How could he have relapsed in this way?
He then remembered why he had decided to enter into hibernation so many years ago. The temptation of blood and the impossibility of resisting were too strong. Whenever he found himself near the piles of bodies in the war, his self-control would vanish, and he would end up committing atrocious acts.
That's why he had chosen to isolate himself, locked in his home, to avoid causing more harm. But now, after centuries of sleep, his thirst for blood had once again clouded his judgment.
Sighing with sorrow, Arnaud stood up with difficulty, looking at the lifeless body at his feet. He had to get out of here as soon as possible, before more of those aggressive people returned.
Since he had lost the hand made fur coat that covered him, he could at least take the strange clothes of the guard to cover himself a little.
After dressing, he headed for the door, trying to maintain his balance.
As he walked down the dark hallway, he heard voices coming from another room. He stopped, sharpening his hearing. It seemed there were more men in the place.
He continued walking cautiously, searching for an exit. He had to escape from here, get away from those men and find a safe place where he could recover and reorient his mind.
Finally, he reached a slightly open door that seemed to lead to the outside. Pushing it carefully, Arnaud stepped out into the open air, feeling the soft night breeze on his face.
Looking around, he saw that he was in a small town, surrounded by houses and streets with designs that were completely foreign to him. The sky was dark, and Arnaud was grateful to be able to move freely without having to fear the daylight.
But his relief was short-lived. In the distance, he heard a sound that chilled his blood: the crying of a child. His vampire senses sharpened, catching the scent of blood.
Without hesitation, Arnaud rushed in that direction, driven by instinct. He crossed the streets of the town, ignoring the dangers that might lurk in the darkness. All that mattered was reaching that child.
As he ran, the scent of blood urged him to quicken his pace, but something within him struggled to maintain control. He remembered the times in the past when he had succumbed to his most primal instincts, leaving a trail of victims in his wake. He did not want to fall into that spiral of violence and destruction again.
But after turning a corner, Arnaud caught sight of a scene that broke his heart. A group of armed men surrounded a small child, who clung to the lifeless body of an elderly woman, while one of them roughly held him.
Fury invaded Arnaud as he witnessed the cruelty with which those miscreants treated the defenseless child. He remembered his own isolated and lonely childhood, and knew he could not abandon that little one to his fate. He too had been a victim of the cruelties of war.
Without hesitation, Arnaud launched himself into the attack, his body moving with superhuman speed. Before the sicarios could react, the vampire had reached the one holding the child, tearing his arms off with a fluid motion.
The men turned in surprise, pointing their weapons at Arnaud, but he moved with such agility that they found it impossible to hit him. He leaped from one side to the other, dodging the bullets as if he could predict each of their movements.
When one of the sicarios managed to wound him in the shoulder, Arnaud growled in pain, but that only served to increase his fury. With a quick spin, he pounced on the man, sinking his fangs into his neck and drinking his blood with desperation.
The other sicarios retreated in terror, watching as the body of their companion fell lifeless to the ground. Arnaud looked at them with glowing eyes, the blood dripping from his lips. The wound closed quickly.
"Damn monster!" shouted one of them, opening fire again.
But Arnaud was faster. He launched himself at the next sicario, dodging the bullets with feline agility. When he was within reach, he grabbed him by the neck and with a precise movement, broke his spine.
The lifeless body fell at his feet, and Arnaud turned to the others, who were backing away in horror.
"Stay back, demon spawn!" yelled one of them, firing incessantly.
Arnaud took several hits, but his vampire body regenerated almost instantly. Each bullet that hit him only seemed to feed his thirst for blood and his fury.
Leaping onto a car, the vampire launched himself at another of the sicarios, opening deep gashes in his chest with his sharp claws. Blood gushed forth, and Arnaud drank it greedily, healing his wounds.
Soon, the cries and gunshots filled the air as Arnaud moved among the armed men with superhuman grace and strength. Whenever he managed to catch one of them, he tore them apart mercilessly, ripping the life from his victims and bathing in their blood.
The sicarios, terrified, tried to flee, but Arnaud blocked their path, hunting them without mercy. His thirst for vengeance fueling his relentless rage.
Finally, only one of the miscreants remained, retreating in terror, his weapon trembling in his hands.
"P-please... don't kill me!" he pleaded, falling to his knees.
Arnaud looked at him with cold eyes, his face covered in blood. Slowly, he approached the man, who screamed in terror.
"Mercy! Mercy, I beg you!"
But Arnaud did not hear his pleas. In his mind, he could only see the frightened faces of the children who had been victims of the violence of men like this one. With a quick movement, he sank his fangs into the sicario's neck, drinking until the last drop of his blood.
When he was done, Arnaud released the lifeless body and turned to the child, who watched him with a mixture of fear and awe. The vampire approached him slowly, his entire body bathed in blood.