𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱 [ᴄʜɪsᴄᴀʀᴀ] 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒 - 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞

Childe returned from yet another investigation about a vampire attack, a mixture of weariness and satisfaction etched on his face. Entering his home, he headed straight to the garage to check on Scaramouche.

Opening the door, he saw the vampire in an almost feral state, pacing the confines of the cage with wild eyes. "Well... what do we have here? A feral vampire, it seems," Childe remarked, his hands in his pockets.

Scaramouche's head snapped towards him, his eyes narrowing. "Are you in heat or something?" the ginger teased.

"No, what the fuck? I'm a vampire, not a werewolf or some wild animal," Scaramouche retorted through gritted teeth.

"Calm down, I was joking. Learn to take a joke," Childe replied, his tone dismissive.

Scaramouche growled, his glare intensifying. Childe's gaze shifted to the bowl of blood he had left for the vampire, still full and untouched. He hummed thoughtfully. "It seems like you're a picky vampire. Prefer fresh blood, hm?"

Scaramouche sneered. "I'm not drinking that stale crap. It's beneath me."

Childe's eyes glinted with curiosity. "So, you only drink fresh blood. Interesting." He paused, considering his next move. "That makes you even more of a liability, doesn't it?"

"Call it what you want," Scaramouche spat. "I'm not lowering my standards just because I'm in a cage."

Childe approached the cage, leaning in closer. "You know, your stubbornness might just be your undoing. Cooperation could make things easier for both of us."

Scaramouche's expression twisted into a defiant smirk. "And what, exactly, do you want from me, hunter? More blood samples? More tests?"

Childe shook his head, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "For now, I just want you to survive. If fresh blood is what you need, then fresh blood you'll get. But don't mistake this for kindness. It's purely practical."

Scaramouche watched warily as Childe stepped away, his mind racing with thoughts of escape and revenge. The hunter's unexpected offer left him unsettled, unsure of what to expect next.

Childe returned shortly with a small cooler. He opened it and revealed a bag of fresh blood. "This should satisfy your refined palate," he said, pouring the blood into a fresh bowl and sliding it into the cage.

Scaramouche eyed the blood warily before reluctantly taking a sip. The difference was immediate, and he drank more eagerly, his strength returning bit by bit.

"Better?" Childe asked, watching him closely.

"Marginally," Scaramouche muttered, though he couldn't hide his relief. "Where did you even get the fresh blood from?"

"Oh, it's my blood. I expected you to be quite picky, so... that's that," Childe said, crossing his arms.

Scaramouche nearly choked, his eyes widening in surprise. "Your blood? Why the hell would you do that?"

Childe shrugged nonchalantly. "Like I said, it's practical. I need you alive and relatively healthy for my experiments. Besides, I'm confident enough in my skills to handle a weakened vampire."

Scaramouche felt a surge of conflicting emotions. Part of him was disgusted, another part curious, and a small, begrudging part almost impressed by Childe's audacity. "You're insane, you know that?"

Childe's grin widened. "I've been called worse. Now, finish up. We've got more to discuss once you're feeling up to it."

"it starting to feel like you do this for a living.." scaramouche said, finishing up the blood. childe chuckled at the comment. "well, i mean, you never know." he said jokingly.