Slayer

Dr Thorne

Fear surged through Joak's veins as the vampires leaped forward, their eyes gleaming like malevolent beacons in the gloom. He sprang to his feet, a surge of terror coursing through him. Joak swiftly drew his pistols and fired, aiming at one of the approaching vampires. The gunfire echoed through the dim room, its sharp reports mingling with the vampires' hisses. Joak's vision suddenly burst into stars as a heavy blow struck the back of his head, sending him reeling. A cold, clammy hand clamped onto Joak's ankle, yanking him violently backwards. Joak's head struck the ground with a resounding thud. Before he could react, the weight of a vampire pressed down on his back, and he could feel the creature's rancid breath against his neck. The vampire's eyes glowed with hunger, its fangs gleaming as they slowly descended, ready to sink into Joak's flesh.
A sudden, deafening boom resonated through the room, and thick plumes of smoke billowed forward. Joak's ears rang, and he coughed, struggling to breathe as smoke filled the air. Around him, he could hear wood shattering, tossing and landing in the chaos. A voice gently pierced the smoky haze, urgently muttering something Joak couldn't make out.
The vampires, bewildered and hissing in agitation, backed away, their eyes gleaming with anger. They backed up fluidly, gliding backwards uncannily quickly before turning. They vanished into the night, their figures disappearing in the dense, haunting shadows.
Dr Thorne's muttering voice came forward as the man himself came into view.
"Close call there," the man said. "Got here just in time."
Joak winced, feeling a sharp, throbbing pain, and a rough cough escaped his lips. He rolled over.
"Come with me," muttered Dr Thorne. "I'll take you somewhere safe."