Nessen thought of his wife, long dead before he was turned into a vampire, forced to watch each year tick by without a cure that had stolen so much from so many. She had died in a caraccident near a Nova Pulse that turned her fresh Soul into a Rogue. He remembered the soft lines of her smile, the way her hair had slowly gone grey with each year he’d loved her.
He would do this for her.
Nessen pushed open the door and was met with the growling form of a lowlevel Rogue. The reinforced chains rattled under strain, its nostrils flaring as it sniffed the air.
If Nessen was right?—
He had to be right.
Slowly, he withdrew the vial of Vesperin’s blood and held it up before the Rogue. It snapped forward, chains groaning as its claws scraped the cold concrete. Nessen stumbled back into the wall.
Its black eyes were no longer narrowed on Nessen—but on the small vial held in his hands.
Nessen’s hands trembled violently as he lifted it, the glass catching the light from the lone swinging bulb overhead.
The Rogue tilted its head, intent and dangerous.
It was just as he thought:
Vesperin’s blood was not just a weapon. It was a counterforce.
He reached for the door latch, planning to retreat but?—
The chains groaned, a few links close to the wall snapping as the Rogue lashed forward. Nessen’s skull thudded against the wall as he barely avoided its claws. The vial slipped, glass shattering as red blood splattered across the floor.
The Rogue went berserk.
"Oh, god!" Nessen gasped as the last chain broke.
The Rogue pounced, forcing him to the ground, its maw opened above him. Hot saliva dripped onto his face, serrated teeth brushing against his cheeks. His last thought was that finally, he would be able to rest.
Atlas did not shy awayfrom the bloodshed.
It was necessary.
Delayne Nessen had served his purpose. Atlas would make certain Nessen was blessed for his sacrifice. Pain in this life was but a momentary thing, nothing in the span of forever.
The wet, awful sounds of the Rogue feasting filled the room. Blood splattered across the concrete, painting everything red.
Atlas stepped out of the shadows.
Nessen groaned weakly, a feeble hand falling to the ground, and looked up and met Atlas’s utterly black eyes.
"Please," he wheezed, wanting death.
The Celestial held out a hand, fingers curling into his palm as he made a fist. The doctor’s life force crumpled. His Soul ascended.
The Rogue looked up from Nessen’s chest cavity, blood and gore coating its rocky maw as it set its sights toward the Soul.
Atlas swept his hand out, pinning the Rogue against the wall, holding it there effortlessly, even as it thrashed. Fate had shown him Vesperin and her Soulbonds would enter this room soon. He could not allow the Rogue to live.
But Atlas did not wish to kill the Soul it once was.
Shadows swirled around him as he stalked forward. Standing before the pinned Rogue, Atlas cocked his head, seeing his form mirrored in the monster’s black eyes. His own eyes were like pitch as shadows crept up his arm to his elbow, disappearing within the Rogue’s chest.
When he felt what he was searching for, he pulled it free. The Rogue slumped to the ground, dead.
Within his hand was the crystallized Soul. It was a smooth, weighty rock, glowing faintly as he tucked it in the pocket of his coat and dissolved back into the shadows, leaving the gore-soaked room.
