Squeezed into the back seat of the military vehicle, I felt like I’d stumbled into some weird action movie. Except instead of a dashing hero, I was the bumbling comic relief. Helena was on my left, her fiery red hair catching the light every time we hit a bump, and Diana was on my right, her calm demeanor making me even more self-conscious. Both of them were, objectively speaking, stunning women, but that only made my current predicament more awkward.

The space was tight and I was painfully aware of how close we were. Helena’s arm brushed against mine every time the car hit a bump, and her presence was electric in a way that made it impossible to ignore. Meanwhile, Diana’s cool demeanor radiated a kind of quiet intensity that made me feel like I was somehow intruding on her thoughts just by existing.

And here I was—flustered, out of my depth, and hyper-aware of every inch of space I was taking up.

Thankfully the ride was almost over, judging by the landmarks we passed.

The vehicle crested a hill, and the church came into view, its stone walls rising against the gray sky, surrounded by multiple military trucks and a dozen or so tents.

When the vehicle stopped in front of the church, I was already thinking ahead. As much as I didn’t know what was going on—honestly, I was still trying to process everything that had happened—I did know one thing: We needed something to keep us safe when we go talk to Greene. And that meant getting some holy water and a cross from Father Jackson. It felt almost absurd, but at the same time, it was the only logical step I could think of right now.

"So, what's the plan?" Kate asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"I think we should pay a visit to the priest and grab some holy water and a cross. I'm not kidding when I say Greene's a vampire." I said, my tone serious.

Helena let out a quiet laugh, clearly entertained. "Alright, alright. Let's go get your holy water, then. Just don’t expect me to start believing in vampires any time soon."

As we entered the church, I was struck by how much more crowded it was than the day before. Families clustered together on the pews, I was glad to see them, and it looked like they were glad to see everyone else as well.

The squad moved through the church with purpose, heading toward the hallway that led to Father Jackson’s office. The light from the windows cast long shadows on the stone walls as we passed by the rows of people. The hallway was dim, but I could make out the wooden doors at the end. I gestured toward the second door on the right, leading the way. “His office is just down here,” I said.

I knocked lightly before opening the door, stepping into the small, cozy room that smelled faintly of incense and old paper. Father Jackson was sitting at his desk, sorting through some papers, his spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. When he looked up and saw us all standing in the doorway, he raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by our sudden appearance.

“Well, well, this is a rather... eclectic gathering,” he said, his voice warm but laced with curiosity. “What brings you all here?” His gaze lingered on me, the odd one out in this group.

I stepped forward, trying to appear as calm as possible, though I was sure my nerves were evident. "Father Jackson, we need a favor," I said, doing my best to sound confident. "We need holy water and a cross."

“Holy water and a cross?” Father Jackson chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, you’re not the first one to ask me for that lately. It seems like everyone’s turning religious these days. Can’t really blame them, though.”

He stood up from behind his desk and walked over to a sturdy cabinet tucked away in the corner of the room. The sound of wood creaking under his weight echoed in the stillness as he retrieved the items I had asked for. Holy water in a small bottle and a worn wooden cross.

He paused as he handed me the cross and the bottle of holy water, eyeing the squad behind me with an expression that suggested he knew we were up to something. “Though, may I ask what exactly you plan to use these for?” His gaze shifted between the soldiers, clearly wary of the tension that hung in the air.

Samantha stepped forward before I could answer, her face set in a calm but unreadable expression. “It’s just a precaution, Father. Nothing you need to concern yourself with.” Her tone was polite but firm, the kind that didn’t invite further questions.

Jackson studied her for a beat, his eyes narrowing slightly as though he wanted to press further but thought better of it. “Well, if protocol calls for holy water and a cross, who am I to argue?” he said finally, a hint of dry humor in his tone.

With the items in hand, we thanked him and left the office, stepping back into the hallway. The low murmur of voices from the main hall of the church greeted us, families chatting quietly or offering each other comfort. It was hard not to feel a pang of guilt, knowing we were keeping secrets in a place that had become a refuge for so many.

As we headed outside toward the tents, Samantha led the way, her posture rigid, while Helena and Kate fell into their usual rhythm of chatter.

“So,” Kate began, her tone teasing, “what do you think Greene’s going to say when we show up with Max and a bottle of holy water? ‘Hey, Commander, heard you might be a vampire, thought this might sting a little’?” She made a hissing noise for effect, pretending to shield herself from sunlight.

Helena smirked, leaning into the joke. “Yeah, I mean, what’s the protocol for interrogating your boss about whether he’s undead? Do we just hold the cross up and see if he starts smoking?”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

I stayed quiet as we crossed the gravel lot toward Greene’s tent. Samantha, ever composed, didn’t acknowledge the banter, though the faint twitch of her jaw betrayed her frustration. I could feel the weight of the squad’s skepticism pressing down on me like a heavy blanket. They didn’t believe me about Greene—not really—but they were humoring me, at least for now.

As we approached the command tent, that sinister aura hit me again. It was faint, almost like static in the air, but it set my teeth on edge. My skin prickled. The others didn’t seem to notice; they walked on, unconcerned, they couldn’t notice the aura after all.

I hesitated for a moment as the others walked ahead, my feet rooted to the ground. Samantha glanced back at me, her sharp eyes narrowing. “Max, let’s go.”

“Right,” I muttered, forcing my legs to move. I clenched the bottle of holy water tightly in my hand, its cool surface grounding me. This was it—time to face a vampire.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. This confrontation was shaping up to be the most dangerous thing I’d ever been a part of. I just wished they would take this more seriously. At least they still had their shotguns with them.

Inside the tent, commander Greene was seated behind a collapsible desk, scanning a map spread out before him. His sharp, dark eyes flicked up as we entered, and for a split second, his expression changed.

When his eyes landed on me, it was only a flash—they widened ever so slightly, his mouth twitching as though he were about to say something—but then it was gone. His usual calm, authoritative demeanor slid back into place like a mask being adjusted. He straightened in his chair, clasping his hands on the desk.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Greene said, his deep voice carrying an air of authority. His gaze shifted to Samantha. “Officer Moore, I wasn’t aware we had a civilian joining us on this mission.”

Samantha crossed her arms and stepped forward, her tone calm but pointed. “Max has brought forth a heavy accusation about you. This will be just a quick conversation, Commander.”

Greene raised an eyebrow, his lips curling slightly as though amused. “A conversation? About what, exactly?” His gaze flicked to me, and I felt an invisible weight pressing against my chest. The aura I’d sensed earlier felt suffocating now, like standing too close to a fire.

“Max here says you tried to attack him last night, and that you’re a vampire.” Samantha said, clearly not believing it herself.

Greene’s laughter echoed in the small tent, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “A vampire?” he repeated, leaning back in his chair as if he found the whole situation endlessly entertaining. “That’s a new one. I’ve been called a lot of things, but I can’t say ‘vampire’ has ever made the list.”

His piercing eyes locked on mine, and I felt as though he could see straight into my soul. “Max, do you really believe this? That I’m some... creature of the night?” Greene said, his voice suddenly softer but no less intimidating.

The way he said it, so casual yet pointed, made my stomach churn. I swallowed hard, gripping the bottle of holy water in my hand. “It’s not just a belief,” I said, forcing the words out. “I know what I saw. You—” I hesitated, the memory of his predatory aura from the night before making my voice falter. “You’re not human.”

Greene’s expression darkened, just for a moment, before the calm mask returned. “This is ridiculous,” he said, turning his attention back to Samantha. “Do you really think I’d be sitting here in broad daylight if I were a vampire? The sun’s shining, isn’t it?”

Helena snorted from the side. “He’s got a point, Max. Vampires aren’t exactly known for their love of sunshine.”

I ignored her, my hand tightening around the bottle.

“Max,” Samantha warned, her voice low. “Don’t do anything reckless.”

But I couldn’t stop myself. The oppressive aura Greene radiated had grown unbearable. My hand moved on its own, uncapping the bottle of holy water. Without another word, I splashed the liquid directly onto his face.

The effect was immediate and horrifying. Greene let out an inhuman screech, a sound that pierced the air like nails on a chalkboard. His skin sizzled where the water made contact, steam rising as if he were burning from the inside out. He shot to his feet, knocking the desk aside as his eyes turned blood-red and his mouth stretched into a grotesque snarl, pitch black veins covered his face. Long, sharp fangs gleamed in the light, and his once-calm demeanor was replaced by pure, animalistic rage.

The room exploded into chaos.

Diana’s arms wrapped tightly around my chest as she yanked me backward, dragging me away from the horror unfolding before us. I barely registered her firm grip or the terrified urgency in her movements; my eyes were locked on Greene. His monstrous form was a nightmare come to life—red eyes blazing, fangs bared, and the steam from the holy water rising off his skin like smoke from a smoldering fire.

“Holy shit!” Helena’s voice cut through the chaos, her words sharp with disbelief as she stumbled back, nearly tripping over a crate in her haste to put distance between herself and Greene.

Kate’s hand darted toward her sidearm, but her movements were hesitant, her fingers fumbling for the weapon. She froze for a split second, her eyes wide with shock as she tried to process what she was seeing.

Samantha didn’t hesitate.

Her shotgun was up and leveled in an instant, her expression hard and unyielding. The barrel of the weapon was mere inches from Greene’s face, and for the briefest moment, time seemed to stop. Greene’s crimson eyes flicked toward her, his lips curling into a vicious snarl that promised bloodshed.

I did not know guns could be so loud.

The deafening blast of the shotgun shattered the air, the recoil slamming against Samantha’s shoulder as the spray of buckshot hit Greene square in the face. His head snapped back violently, the force of the shot sending him staggering. Dark, viscous blood sprayed across the canvas walls of the tent.

My ears were ringing from the gunshot but I was sure he was roaring as he fell to his knees. His hands clawed at his face, or what was left of it, jagged nails raking over his flesh as blackened blood poured from the wound.

Samantha fired again, and Greene’s body crumpled to the ground, what was left of his head hitting the dirt with what looked like a wet thud. I couldn’t hear it—not over the relentless ringing in my ears. The sound of the shotgun blast had obliterated everything else, leaving only that static buzz in its wake.

It was only then that I noticed I was on the ground near the entrance of the tent, sprawled awkwardly on my side. Diana was crouched beside me, her face pale and frozen in a mask of horror. Her wide eyes darted between me and the grotesque scene unfolding just feet away. When had I fallen? I couldn’t remember. Everything felt disjointed, like I was watching the moment unfold from a step outside of my own body.

Samantha remained rigid, her stance unwavering as she kept the barrel of the shotgun trained on Greene’s remains. Her hands were steady, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed the storm of adrenaline surging through her. She didn’t so much as blink, her piercing gaze locked on the unmoving corpse as if daring it to rise again.

Kate, meanwhile, looked like she was fighting a losing battle with her stomach, she swayed slightly on her feet, one hand pressed tightly to her mouth. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, her eyes flicking between Greene’s shattered body and the dark pool spreading beneath it.

The edges of my vision began to blur, a creeping blackness dimming the world around me. I tried to focus, tried to ground myself, but the relentless hum in my ears drowned out every other sensation. My stomach churned violently, and the metallic taste of bile clawed at the back of my throat. I turned to the side, barely managing to brace myself, and retched onto the ground.