Blissful Bite ─ Venti x reader

↳ PROLOGE ; THE DOING OF DESTINY

Around midday, the market would always be thronging with people. Not a good place for hunts. Or chases.

Wherever the eye reached, queues with people lining up filled the space while merchants and scientists would call out to the masses for the advertisements of potions and magic recourses. Different voices and offerings echoed throughout the area.

There were all kinds of figures trying to sell their wares, varying from mercenaries waiting to be discovered to more humbly dressed farmers and hunters. The fairness of trade was an obvious ethnic for most, but not all, although even in broad daylight, it could be found—between fraud, bittersweet scams, and rare generosity, it was able to be discovered. One might see them if they'd dig deep enough in the dark alleys.

A death wish.

That was what it was.

A swift turn into dark alleys would soon cause a bittersweet blessing of crimson red. Whereas they'd be beheaded instead of rewarded for bravery, or would it be foolishness?

The streets' lively commotion blend shouts together, deliberate hunts for verbal trade and yearning to get the deals that were worth the most. The figures would even hunt after the smallest animals that would dare to  steal their sweet property. That was exactly how it worked here. Everyone was (a)pathetic and desperate. There were more scenarios to choose from than the mind could think of between betrayal and self

The crowd was diverse enough as some tried passing through the bigger paths while others were the ones blocking the streets. On average, the market would fall on the weekdays of labourers. Now it fell on resting day. It was interesting how disadvantages could be determined by the way the markets usual routine fell out of place.

Meanwhile, the last noise that you caught from your perspective was the panting of your lungs being drained off air. The wind striked the skin of your cheeks as your legs pumped as hard as they could. Any leftover energy was dedicated to running. Your legs were close to the edge of being on fire. Then gravity stopped feeling real.

You ran.

If your lungs wouldn't collapse, then there was no reason to stop. Go on. Nothing else in the focus. There couldn't be another focus. You were on an important chase.

The destination of your goal didn't matter. It mattered who would end up in cuffs. A creature of the shadows. A blood-sucking demon who caved for crimson liquid. The one thing that ran through the body, that kept it alive, was the primary life force—which was blood.

You glared that creatures way.

That bloodsucking monster licked the corner of its lips from the blood. Their tongues would all slowly consume the crimson liquid until all life was drained.

The corpse was lying there, sunken cheeks, 2 dots near its pulse point, the blood dried up by now, the paleness made them look inhumanely. Just a moment ago. Your eyes widened as you processed the torture they had captured. That body was once a person with their own desires and dreams, someone's family, and this vampire would pay for it.

The heightened senses awareness of your surroundings allowed the disgust to struck with hatred. Your blood was boiling stronger than ever. Lightning, giving yourself the energy to chase them down to the last.

At a constant speed, you had held yourself up on the roofs to keep him in sight. Despite the struggle of gravity, you got closer.

The determination was your lasting flame to erase every last one of these creatures.

Each second, a footstep closer. A meter further to the goal. But then slowly, your lungs' capacity started to falter. Error.

You began to run out of air.