𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱 [ᴄʜɪsᴄᴀʀᴀ] 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐 - 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬

"tsk.. your garage stinks. let me out this instant, mortal." said scaramouche, sitting down and leaning back against the cage bars. "it had only been a day and you're not able to bear with it? quite a weak vampire despite your claims of being powerful." replied childe, the hunter.

childe had taken blood samples from scaramouche and used it to find out what vampire type scaramouche is. "ugh.. how long are you gonna test on my blood. this is so tiring." said the vampire.

"your fault for being so cocky and tried to attack me. now look where we are.." childe said, smirking as he glanced at the vampire who glared back at him. he then turn his gaze back to the result of the vampire's blood, getting the result.

"luminarix? well, isn't that the rarest type to catch nowadays since most of them either killed themselves or rather to drink animal blood to fill their hunger." childe muttered as he stare at the result.

"..and i heard these types are able to carry a child, no, matter their gender." added the hunter. "..tch. what do you plan to do?" scaramouche said with furrowed brows. "nothing of what you think. you'll be kept in the cage. i don't plan on letting you out soon."

scaramouche watched as childe walks to the door that leads inside the coziness of the house. once the door shuts, scaramouche grumbled and clenched his hands into fists.

Scaramouche's frustration simmered as he sat in the cage, his eyes narrowing at the closed door through which Childe had disappeared. The hunter's nonchalant attitude grated on his nerves, but there was an underlying sense of curiosity about the information Childe had discovered.

"Luminarix, huh? Rare and supposedly fertile," Scaramouche muttered to himself, recalling the implications of his vampire type. He had always been aware of his uniqueness among vampires, but hearing it from a hunter's perspective added a new layer of concern.

He leaned his head back against the cold metal bars, staring up at the ceiling of the garage. Thoughts raced through his mind—plans of escape, ways to turn the tables on Childe, and the unsettling realization of being at the mercy of a vampire hunter.

Minutes turned into hours as Scaramouche brooded in silence. The garage felt oppressive, the air thick with tension and the faint scent of blood from where Childe had taken his samples. Despite his bravado, Scaramouche couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability, trapped as he was in the hunter's meticulous prison.

The sound of footsteps approached the garage once more, and Scaramouche tensed, preparing himself for Childe's return. The door swung open, and the hunter entered, his expression unreadable as he approached the cage.

"Eat," Childe commanded, gesturing to a tray he had set down nearby.

Scaramouche eyed the food warily. "You know I can't consume human food, hunter," he stated flatly, his voice laced with defiance.

Childe's lips quirked into a smirk as he leaned against the table. "Of course I know. But I figured you might appreciate the gesture. You must be hungry, even if you won't admit it."

Scaramouche remained silent, his gaze never leaving Childe's face. He refused to show any weakness, especially not to his captor.

Childe straightened up, his smirk fading into a more serious expression. "Regardless, there are things we need to discuss. Sit tight."

With that, he turned and walked towards a small desk in the corner of the garage, where a laptop and several files were neatly arranged. Scaramouche watched him closely, his mind racing with possibilities. What did Childe have planned next?

As Childe began typing on the laptop, presumably reviewing the data from his tests, Scaramouche took a moment to assess his surroundings. The cage seemed sturdy, reinforced with bars that were undoubtedly designed to withstand the strength of a vampire. Escape seemed unlikely, at least for now.