"I'm a Methuselah. A vampire! We are the highest beings on Earth! You are like cattle! I will use you for food and wear your skin when I'm done with you!"
"No . . . you . . . you're also human," whispered the priest, moments from death.
"Shut up and die, you stupid cow," growled the vampire. Duke Alfredo typed away on the keyboard. "I'm almost done here, pussycat," he said over his shoulder to Jessica. "After this, I'm gonna kill you 'til you love me."
She didn't know how she'd gotten a pipe, and she surely didn't know where she'd found the strength to swing it—but she aimed for the vampire's head and gave it her best shot. He blocked the pipe with his bare hand, not even bothering to look up from the keyboard. She knew then that he saw her as a mere toy, weak and helpless—something to play with, break, and discard.
Alfredo used the pipe's momentum against her, twisting her arm behind her without so niuch as looking at her. With a flick of his wrist, he threw Jessica into the wall. She crumpled to the floor.
"Je-Jessica!" the priest choked out.
"Holy crap! Did I kill her?" The duke laughed, shrugging. He continued to chew his tobacco. "Oh well, her corpse will be warm for a few more minutes, at least."
He started whistling a funeral march while he typed, trying not to let his mood turn sour. Sex with a corpse was one thing, but he didn't want to drink a dead person's blood. It always tasted terrible. He spit out his tobacco.
"What is that?" Abel asked.
The black blob the vampire spit out wasn't tobacco after all. It was a piece of red rubber. It was . . .
"A balloon . . . ?" Abel whispered in disbelief.
"That? Oh, I got it from a little boy," remarked the duke. He continued to type without glancing at the balloon or Abel. "I found him on my way here. I was looking for you, of course. I knew you'd come to the sub-bridge, but I needed to feed before I could make it here. The boy's blood helped me heal faster. He tasted good. His blood was thick, smooth . . . and it flowed until the very end. Exquisite, really."
What happened next unfolded faster than the vampire could see, faster than he could hear, faster than he could smell. He was, for the first time in his life, caught completely unaware. The duke was thrown to the ground with terrific force. He fell, squealing like a pig, "What?!"
A normal human would have broken every limb. The duke was merely dazed by the impact. He raised his head for the briefest second, taking in the priest who stood before him.
"Duke Alfredo, you've gone too far," Abel said.
Shadows painted the priest's face. Even the light from the two moons outside couldn't penetrate the absolutely black halo that now engulfed the priest. His robe was soaked with his own blood. The duke couldn't comprehend how the priest could still be alive, much less find the strength to fight a Methuselah.
"I regret that I cannot forgive you . . . unless you're willing to repent," said the priest.
"Forgive? Repent?" asked the duke. "You're insane. I am above your human concept of sin!" Duke Alfredo pulled himself up off the floor and hissed at Abel. "Your cow-god holds no judgment over my soul. You are no more than a dinner buffet to me. And your faith is useless," spat out the duke.
"He would forgive you, but . . ." The priest's eyes glowed a horrible red that would turn the stomach of the bravest men. "Even if He could show you mercy ... I cannot."
"Tell your cow-god all about it when you get to cow-heaven!"
Alfredo jabbed a middle finger at Abel, attempting to poke out his eye. The duke didn't think the priest would blabber on about God and redemption if he were blind. He greatly anticipated the satisfying squish his finger would make when he dug into Abel's eyeball, eye socket, and brains.
But . . . nothing.
"Impossible," the duke whispered.
Abel had caught the vampire's arm. It takes the strength of ten humans to hold back the arm of a Methuselah. Who is this human? He tried to free his arm from the priest's grip, but he couldn't. That wasn't the only surprise in store for the duke.
"Nanomachine Crusnik 02 forty percent limited performance—authorized," Abel murmured.
"Agaaah!" screamed the duke. Agony shot through him and he yanked his arm back. He staggered, in the worst pain he'd ever known.
A chain was now wrapped around his wrist. The links of chain ate at his flesh like they had minds of their own. Small bloody geysers sprayed from his arm. Bone and flesh dripped off in chunks all around him. The chain was shredding his arm to pieces.
"My haaaaaaand!" the duke screeched.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" the priest asked coolly. His eyes were a red darker than blood. Fangs suddenly protruded from his lips. "Doesn't it? Are you suffering? The people you killed endured far more pain. I won't kill you now. Instead, I will do God's will. I'll only make you bear one hundredth of the pain the people you've murdered had to bear."
The horrible sound of popping flesh filled the room. It was sickening. It wasn't the duke, however. Abel's right hand and arm were splitting open. From inside the gaping hole, a sharp spike poked through. It pulsated.
It was a mouth.
The mouth began eating Alfredo's right fist.
"Y-You're . . ." the duke stammered. "Wh-what are you? You're not human."
"You compared humans to cattle, didn't you? Haven't you ever thought about this: Humans eat cows. Vampires eat humans. Maybe there's something eats vampires," the priest whispered. Abel's lips curled up to reveal his fangs. "I am a Crusnik. A vampire's vampire, if you will."
"Bullshit!" Alfredo hollered in disbelief. "I am a Methuselah. All the living creatures of Earth are mere fodder for us. We rule by the divine right of kings! We were ancient when your world was young! I am a god! Die, you Vatican dog!"
Hidden in the duke's belt was a microfilament knife. The edge had been sharpened down to a hair; it could cut through anything.
It now sprung up like a snake. Abel guarded his face with his left hand, but the blade moved at supersonic speeds and sliced off his left arm. A column of blood spurted up to the ceiling.
"Mortal weakling. 'Vampire's vampire,' huh?"
Bleeding and in horrible pain, Abel took a knee.
Duke Alfredo snickered at him. "You'll pay for the indignities I've endured. What are you? A human augmented by drugs and technology? No matter. You'll pay all the same. I'm going to cut off your other arm, and then both your legs. Then, while you bleed to death, I'll rape the girl and drink her blood right in front of you. You'll cry for me. Oh yes, you will."
Abel didn't bat an eye. He just picked up his left arm from the floor. A sucking noise echoed around the room. The mouth on Abel's arm moved again. It started to eat the rest of the severed left arm: fingers to palm, palm to wrist, wrist to forearm.