Heroes to Hunted

'Joseph is...dead?' I stood in shock. Though I was used to comrades dying, he wasn't supposed to. I was supposed to have saved him.

"Dammit..." I pulled my hand from his neck, frustrated by my failure.

"Oh... So the boy has passed?" Vincent inquired while fixing his wrist. The bone snapped and crackled as he maneuvered it back in place. "You have my condolences, truly..."

I had no snarky quip or retort to offer. Instead, I took several deep breaths to calm down, then turned toward Vincent with a clenched jaw and balled-up fists, one with a knife in hand.

He stopped in place with a courteous grin. "I can allow you a few moments to mourn the dead if you wish. I'll grant you this mercy."

Despite his words, my vigilant gaze remained fixed on Vincent. 'I'll be damned if he thinks he can lower my guard,' I growled to myself.

However, he was true to his word, and silence enveloped the room in stillness. Amongst the quiet, I heard the sound of hope. It, again, manifested as the clinking of glass emanating from my pockets.

'The potion!' my expression lit up as I forced my hand into my pocket.

Concerningly, the fabric, both inside and out, was frigid and damp, completely soaked through. As I fumbled for the vial, a burning, pinching sensation shot through the entire length of my index finger.

Undeterred by the pain, I grasped the glass and pulled it to view.

A dark crimson sheen poured over the glass from my sliced finger. The bloodstream shifted down as it encountered the vial's uneven surface.

I pulled it closer when a sharp twinge of apprehension shot through me. My eyes followed the stream of blood until I noticed small lines etched into the once seamlessly clear vial.

My focus sharpened, my eyes fixated on the vial's contents, hoping against hope that I was wrong. Unfortunately, my worst fears were confirmed, or at least nearly so.

"No... No, it can't be," I muttered, my voice low and trembling.

The once-vibrant liquid filling the vial was vacant, barring the third remaining. The rest had seeped through the cracks in the glass.

'But when did this happen?' Confusion clouded my thoughts, but then I recalled the faint crackle that had accompanied my collision with the cell bars. Was that the moment the vial shattered? It seemed likely.

Frustration welled up inside me, but I forced it down, refusing to let it show.

'At least there's some left. Hopefully, it'll work...' I acted quickly, uncorking the vial and pouring the remaining liquid down Joseph's throat. I watched anxiously, waiting for any sign that it had worked.

When there was none, I began to return my full attention to Vincent.

'I've done all I can,' I glanced one last time at Joseph's lifeless form with a pained expression. "You better fight. You better fight and live through this," I said out loud, praying that my words might somehow reach him.

Meanwhile, Vincent took several steps forward, to which I braced myself for a skirmish. Yet, in the face of my blatant hostility, he hadn't raised a hand to attack; rather, his were held at his back as he watched in interest.

"You're attempting to resuscitate the boy?" he tilted his head. "A curious endeavor indeed. Have you considered what you'll do if you succeed?"

While angling my dagger at Vincent, I replied, "Kill you, free him, and leave. Simple"

Vincent directed his gaze upward in deep thought, then returned his eyes to me. "Quite an ambition you have, to slay me, I mean. Do you really consider yourself capable of such a feat?"

"If it bleeds, you can kill it." I cast a menacing glower in his direction, my eyes filled with unwavering determination. "And I KNOW your kind can bleed."

"Ah, you truly are an amusing one!" Vincent let out a reserved chuckle at my assertion.

I gave a grin, ready to make do on the first part of my promise. "I'm glad you find it so amusing. Your last moments in this world should be cheerful."

Vincent smiled, then assumed an attack stance. "I suppose we'll have to test this confidence of yours. Ready, Sir Sato?"

Flourishing my dagger, I assumed a robust posture. My legs were spread, and my arms relaxed to improve reaction timing.

If I'm being honest, my confident demeanor was a facade - a tough front to mask the hopelessness of my situation.

Even with my weapon of choice, I knew this battle wasn't in my favor. I needed more than brute force or training. No, this fight demanded a calculated strategy.

'Let's see, how can I win this,' I stopped and quickly compiled what I knew. I doubted Vincent's patience would last much longer, so I considered every second spent a second too late.

There were several load-bearing pillars spread across the room. Each with a lit oil lantern. One with an embedded dagger.

Numerous grime-filled open cells lined the room, all resistant to force, as shown when my body slammed into their iron bars. The floors and walls within each, unlike the majority of the room, were stone, barring the few pillars caked in enough dust to put a sawmill to shame.

Vincent was a fullkin, a creature with extraordinary strength, speed, and regenerative abilities capable of recovering from severe injuries. Yet, his regeneration wasn't instant, requiring a few seconds before full recovery. At least, that was the case if the woman's neck and Vincent's wrist were any indicators.

In addition, fullkin were bipedal, meaning their muscle composition would roughly, if not exactly, match the human form.

There were three guards in the room, all injured, all huddled together in a corner. It was unlikely that they would interfere with my plan, considering the level of wounding they'd been subjected to. One of the three was unmoving, presumably unconscious or dead.

Then, recalling my duel with the captain, an epiphany lit up in my mind. 'I know what I need to do.'

I smirked and finally gave Vincent my go-ahead for a dance of death. "Ready," I replied, my plan finalized. It was a long shot, but the only one I had.

"Very well; I hope you've made your peace," Vincent bowed, then sped toward me at lightning speeds, to which I responded with a mad dash for the knife-embedded pillar.

As he emerged to my side, I had already made it to my intended destination. His arm sliced through the air in a vicious arc, aiming to shatter my neck with a single strike.

But I was ready.

With quick reflexes, I dropped into a crouch, evading Vincent's deadly swipe by mere centimeters.

His palm slammed into the pillar beside me. It sent a shockwave through the homestead, rumbling the structure's very foundation.

Wood splintered and groaned under the force of the blow, releasing another thick cloud of grime and sawdust into the air.

As I watched the particles dance and swirl, I noticed the embedded knife dislodge from its place of rest. It now lay, completely exposed, on the hardwood floor.

Furthermore, the sudden jolt from the collapsing pillar shook the lantern from its hook. It flew through the air until it skittered across the floor, eventually clacking against a wall and stopping beside a nearby jail cell.

I thrust my dagger toward Vincent's chest, forcing him backward to gain a degree of breathing room.

His eyes lit up with intrigue upon his retreat, and his lips curved to form an impressed smile. "Very well done! To think you managed to avoid my strike so adeptly! You've impressed me, Sir Sato!"

I took hold of the second dagger, fulfilling the first condition of my plan. Casting him a glance and a smirk, I replied with a tone of sarcasm, "Thanks; I try to make a habit of not getting hit."

"Indeed!" he laughed in slight amusement at my words before readying for another lunge.

I tightened my grip on both knives, ready for the next phase of my plan. 'It's all or nothing,' I gritted my teeth. 'This is where the fun starts.'