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𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 , 𝐨𝐧𝐞
— THE CHURCH STOOD IN PARTIAL RUINS, halted in construction due to the permanent cycle that ravaged the world around him. The trail of blood had led him here, to the Fell church, home to the tragic death of vampires and other lost souls. Old stone still painted with scorch marks and soot lining the broken stain glass.
Mikhail waltzed through the arch way with ease, a little spring in his step at the prospect of fresh food. The church has no roof, except for the handful of tiling over the alter , and it's entire left wall was gone, which left the row of seats on that side to rot with damp and become covered in snow, so that hiding place was out of the question.
Mikhail hadn't been in a church in over two-hundred years, not since he was human, and although he doesn't devote himself to God, or even pray to him, he does feel sorrow at its lack of upkeep. The statues of archangels on the right side seem to follow him around the room. This escalates his woe. Nothing like the Archangel Michael, protector of the people, to witness an abomination like himself feast on an innocent.
The thumping of the mans heartbeat gave him away. The dark box, or confessional as people called it, hidden in the back by the alter is where the sound came from.
Within moments Mikhail stood in front of the door. The smell of blood is faded but he can hear the man breathing shallowly. Mikhail took a deep inhale and couldn't help the whine that left throat as the sweet smell overtook him.
He caught his eyes through the carvings in the door and smiled.
"You have no idea how delicious you smell." He admitted.
The box's door slammed open and knocked Mikhail back. He stumbled and tried to regain his balance, but the man was on him instantly. He grabbed Mikhail by the back of the neck, grabbing some of his hair in the process, and yanked it back, exposing his throat as he made a quick jab to Mikhail's stomach. There's a hard burning sensation, Mikhail grabbed the man by the jacket with one hand and caught his wrist with the other as the man brought his hand up, knife dripping with blood in his hand and Mikhail realised he's been stabbed.
It's the first time in centuries he's felt any pain or seen someone with such bloodlust in their eyes beside Nora.
Mikhail gave him a grin, all fangs and no friendliness, before he uses his strength to throw him down on the floor. He doesn't have the upper hand for long as the man flips the over after jutting his knee up, hitting him hard where the sun doesn't shine.
"I feel like that's cheating," Mikhail rasped as the pain began to fade and the burning on his throat picked up. He could see from the corner of his eyes that the hands around his throat were glowing. Siphoner, damn it, he thought.
