Lincoln: Vampire Hunter

12

The room was in hysteria. People were shouting threats to toss each other out and already debating who was going to be sacrificed. Lincoln stands up and rubs his head, as well as wiping away some blood on his cheek. Irritation starts to build, and all the yelling only pushes him further to the edge. "EVERYBODY! SHUT UP!" he calls out. "You idiots don't understand, so let me lay this out for you: Vampires never have an intention to let other people live if there isn't something in it for them. They are beings who harbor serious ulterior motives when dealing with humans. If you sacrifice someone—doesn't matter who—then they will die, and then you will all die after. All you can hope to do is fight back." One of the vampires becomes visibly angered and steps forward towards Lincoln, but he is stopped by the lead vampire's outstretched arm soon enough. "Wise words, young man. What might your name be?" He slides his dagger out from his pocket and flips it to hold it correctly by the handle. He points the blade at the three vampires; pointing at one, then another, then the last, and back to the vampire in the front; switching in an attempt to intimidate, but his attempt is ineffective. "That's a nice knife, boy," the vampire said. "Why don't you get a little closer and use it?"

Ronnie Anne wakes up from her unconscious break. She can't get steady enough to stand, but she pushes herself onto her knees. She sees an empty store and three dead vampires. "What happened? Were we attacked?" He nods. One of the vampires lying down raises its head and grasps onto life, before Lincoln plunges his knife into its skull. "I can't believe you've seen me kill more vampires than that Helsing guy, and yet you go and put him in charge!" She picks a few shards of glass out of her hair while talking. "I didn't know you wanted to be in charge. And also, it was the people that voted. You weren't there to offer yourself." He makes a sour expression. "I didn't get an invitation." She rolls her eyes and they both leave the diner. They walk beside each other, talking. Their conversation is curt, mostly because of the event that had just happened minutes ago disrupting their minds and exhausting them. Then, when they turn a corner, they meet face-to-face with a man. It was Helsing.

"The plan is already sixty percent complete," he says. Ronnie asks what plan he means. "Don't be so disingenuous, Mayor. My plans are to find that fetid heathen who's nabbed your beloved secretary. Would it surprise you that we already know its location?" It shocks both Ronnie and Lincoln to hear this. "How?" she shouts, incredulous. "Simple. A dog's nose is better than any human's. Your secretary left her coat on the hanger in the town hall. This means two things: I got her scent, and she didn't have time to grab her coat. That means it's likely she was captured inside the town hall. She must've come in, hung up her coat, and then while she was doing something, that son of a gun came up behind her and snatched that girl. The scent I got off that coat, it's leading me somewhere. But, I can't just tell you—unless you can tell me how many cops you can round up." Ronnie perks her nose up to answer. "About four. Maybe five." He doesn't seem impressed by those numbers. He takes a moment to contemplate his plan. "That might be enough. How are you for 8:00 pm? Or, anytime before midnight. That's about the time vampires are out, so of course it's only logical." Ronnie nods and Lincoln steps forward. "Wait, what about me?" he asks. "I'm not sitting out of this one! I'll be damned if I just sit by and watch. I make no exceptions to hunting those bastards. I'm going, like it or not." Helsing puts his hands on his hips. "I like your zeal. You have a real passion in you. What's your reason, kid? Did those vampires kill your friend in the town hall?" His face darkens after the memory of his family returns to bedevil him. "No," he says, "they got my family."