Sword of Vengeance (Bjorn and Zyro #2)[COMPLETED]

32: Dracula's Mayhem

At the LRT station, Bjorn and Zyro regrouped, panting from the intensity of their last battle. The eerie silence that followed the fight was a sharp contrast to the chaos they had just escaped. They leaned against a pillar, catching their breath, feeling a rare moment of relief. The fluorescent lights flickered above them, casting long shadows on the station's worn floor.

Bjorn rubbed his sore knuckles, wincing slightly but relieved to be alive. Zyro glanced around, making sure they were alone, and then looked at Bjorn with a slight smirk.

"We made it," Zyro said, his voice low, but there was a tinge of victory in his tone.

Bjorn nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing, even if just for a fleeting moment. "For now."

But as Bjorn reached into his jacket, his face suddenly paled. His fingers brushed through the empty pocket, and the realization hit him like a punch to the gut. The Ashwood Stake—their only weapon capable of killing Vanong—was gone.

His heart dropped. "Zyro," he said, his voice tight with panic, "the stake... it's not here."

Zyro's eyes widened. "What?!" He immediately checked Bjorn's jacket, his expression growing serious. "How the hell did we lose it?"

Bjorn's mind raced, trying to retrace their steps. They had been running, fighting for their lives—had it fallen during the battle? Or worse, had someone taken it?

Before they could even begin to process the loss, the ground beneath them trembled. A low, ominous groan echoed through the station, reverberating off the walls. The metal tracks hummed, and the entire platform seemed to vibrate with something far more sinister than an approaching train.

Bjorn and Zyro exchanged a look, their relief immediately evaporating, replaced by a sinking feeling in their stomachs.

"That's not the train," Zyro muttered.

The groan grew louder, deeper, as if the very air around them was growling. Shadows flickered ominously from the tunnel, and the once-still platform came alive with a cold, unnatural breeze.

The train... or what they thought was a train, emerged slowly from the darkness. But as it pulled closer, its shape was wrong—massive, monstrous, with grotesque leathery wings spreading from either side, barely fitting within the tunnel's width. Its red, glowing eyes pierced through the station's gloom, and a chilling screech echoed off the walls, causing nearby windows to shatter.

"Dracula," Bjorn whispered, his eyes wide in disbelief.

The creature's colossal form hunched forward, its head tilting unnaturally as it emerged fully into the station. Its long, razor-sharp claws scraped against the metal tracks, creating sparks that danced through the air. The air around them grew thick with malice, and Bjorn knew, without a doubt, that Vanong had sent this creature to retrieve them.

Zyro unsheathed his weapon, his body tensing. "It must've been sent for the stake... and us."

As Dracula's massive form lumbered into the station, the eerie screech sent shockwaves through the platform. Bjorn and Zyro barely had time to react when, from the other end of the station, Spike, Conrad, and Violet came rushing out of the dark corridor, skidding to a stop just as they saw the terrifying creature before them.

Spike, panting but ever his cocky self, raised an eyebrow. "So, this is the 'express train' to hell, huh?"

Conrad, wide-eyed, muttered under his breath, "Not exactly what I had in mind for our escape." Violet was already gripping her weapons tightly, her gaze sharp as she assessed the situation, but her heart was clearly still recovering from her previous injuries.