Verisimilitude

Paint my funeral with blood

*I apologise, I don't write good when I'm drunk but I'm doing it anyway*.

Mark emerged from the basement, the final steps he took into the hardwood floors felt amazing. He felt free and happy, he was finally free from his hanging hell and happy he was full.

Mark stood with a blank stare, his face held as much emotion as a piece of wood. Strong and plain.
Thunder and lightly banged against the tin roof, abbreviating through the house so loudly, it would drown out any other sound.

The vampire looked back over his shoulder with a cold demeanour. Down the familiar steep, steel stairs he saw Shane dry and dead.

Mark made a low growling sound with his throat as his vocal chords attracted. He had fed and therefore was regenerating. His flaky skin was re-moisturising and his senses sharpening. He felt stronger and stronger by the second, feeling able enough to rip a man's head off. He could hear the thunder and lighting as if he had headphones in. It was intoxicating, he finally felt alive and well again, like himself.

Like a vampire.

Without a second look back the vampire ran off with a spring in his step. Feeling faster and healthier than he had in a long time.

His wounded shoulder stung as hard raindrops belted down into it. Although it was healing much faster now.

Where's Jack?
I can't follow his scent, it's masked out by the rain

Mark stopped just short of his old grave, the slightly raised pile of dirt stood at his feet.

This rain and this warm air, the mud gathering at his feet. Reminded of the night he ascended from this very grave.

Oh how things have changed.

Felix is a vampire, his scent will be easy to follow. Wherever Felix is, Jack is Mark thought.

The vampire sniffed the air violently, hurting his sense in the process. He once again broke into a sprint as he caught he sharp smell of vanilla and coconut, mixed together in such a way it reminded him of the taste of alcohol.

Mark kicked mud and dirt back up onto his legs as he ran, his bare feet squishing into the earth with ease. His eyes catching every movement of the forest. His ears hearing every rain drop and every animal cry.

The vampire began to pant out of his mouth as he ran. Not because he needed to but mostly out of habit, human things stick with you, even when you've been immortal for so long.

A sharp right turn caused Mark to skid in the mud, losing control he collided with a tree. Much like one would do if they were driving.

The vampires ribs connected with the woods first, followed by his head and legs in unison. The immortal felt his head crack, as well as some assorted bones. The force from the blow caused the tree to break, leaving sharp points of pine sticking up to the heavens.

Mark went flying after, his whole body skidding through the mud. A meat growl passing through his lips, he wasn't at full power. Pain was still pain.

Grunting angrily the man clawed himself from his indent and took off again, wiping the grime off his face as he did so. The flesh that hung of his hands slowly seeing itself back onto the skin that it used to call home, the wounds still open, but not as grotesque as before.

Fischbach made his legs pump with energy and if his heart could pump it would be bursting from his chest.

He was angry, he was tired and he was strong.

A man with a plan who intend to act upon it. He'd stop Jack from killing anyone, murder was over the line.
For Felix however it was another story.
He'd be thrown to the wolves, the hunters,so they could tear him apart instead.