The Vampire's Apprentice

Alain stared at the scene before him for a moment, his eyes wide with shock. Felix continued to writhe on the ground, blood continuing to pool around him, all while Owen simply stood there, his hands behind his back and that same smirk on his face.

"Nothing to say, Smith?" Owen asked, tilting his head. "Nothing to-"

Before Owen could finish his sentence, Alain hurriedly shouldered his Winchester 1887 and began to fire off shells towards him. He worked the lever-action and the trigger as fast as he could, taking just enough time to aim at Owen's head; the elder vampire, however, was able to dodge through the incoming storm of pellets, moving so fast that he seemed to almost teleport from spot to spot, until he was right up in Alain's face.

A darkened blur suddenly raced past him, and Alain knew Sable had gotten there. She went to rush in direct for Owen's throat, but he merely backhanded her, sending her flying back into the prison walls, where she crashed right through the concrete.

Alain's heart sank, already expecting a killing blow to come his way after that, but it never did – rather, Owen simply lashed out and grabbed him by the throat, then hoisted him high into the air with a single hand.

"I was hoping you'd prove yourself to be suitable," Owen said to him. "And I am pleased to see that you've exceeded all expectations. Yes, you will make for a worthy sacrifice."

Alain kicked in Owen's grasp, clawing at the hand around his throat the entire time, but to no avail. Finally, out of desperation, he reached for the shotgun still dangling from its sling in front of him, then grabbed it and began to angle it towards Owen's head. Finally, just as Alain felt himself about to pass out, he pressed the barrel of the gun flush with Owen's temple and pulled the trigger.

A dull click echoed through the prison courtyard.

And that should have been it for him – the last of his strength faded, the shotgun again slipping from his one-handed grasp to hang by its sling once more. Black crept up to the edges of his vision, and Alain began to slump over in Owen's grasp.

But then, Owen let him loose, throwing him across the courtyard.

Alain rolled across the ground as he hit the dirt, turning over several times before coming to rest at a wall. He laid there, gasping for breath, desperately taking in air the entire time even as Owen continued to advance on him.

"I'm surprised," Owen mused, even as Alain managed to push himself up onto one knee and draw his revolver; Owen didn't even flinch as Alain cocked the weapon's hammer back with his thumb and leveled it towards him with shaking hands.

"Surprised… by what?" Alain managed to get out, his voice coming out as little more than a thin rasp.

"Don't you want to know why, Smith? You're not curious what all of this was for, not even a little bit?"

"I… couldn't give less of a fuck… if I tried." Alain's gaze narrowed. "The why doesn't matter to me… You're doing this because you're evil… because you enjoy death… I look forward to putting you in the dirt alongside the innocent people you've killed."

Owen raised both hands and began to applaud him, that same wide smile returning. "Yes, yes! I knew you were suitable for her! Oh, how she is going to enjoy claiming your soul… I look forward to watching-"

Alain had heard enough. He began to slam on his revolver's trigger, working the hammer between every shot. Again, Owen was able to easily sidestep each shot and close the distance.

But this time, something intercepted him before he could make it to Alain.

"Alain, go!" Sable called as she came barreling into Owen, the two of them falling to the ground together before separating from each other. Alain blinked, and just like that, they were both on their feet again, circling each other like a pair of apex predators, both looking for an opening.

"Sable…" Alain breathed. "You can't-"

"Go check on Felix, Alain," she commanded without looking back to him. "I'll handle Owen."

"By yourself?"

"Who said I was by myself?"

As the words left her mouth, someone else came bounding into the courtyard; it didn't take much for Alain to recognize Az as he charged into the fray to support Sable.

And, for the first time Alain could remember since he'd seen Az, he looked pissed.

"Heed her words, Smith," Az said as he stomped past Alain to stand by Sable's side. "Go check on your friend. We'll keep him distracted."

"Oh, but you wound me," Owen said, placing a hand over his heart. "To separate me from him at such a crucial hour… how insulting. Even worse that one of you is a vampire, herself."

"What are you blathering on about?" Sable demanded.

Owen let out a tired sigh. "Such a shame that you do not know your own history… I suppose there was a reason your sister usurped your parents, after all."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Sable launched herself at him, a feral yell forcing its way out of her mouth. Alain blinked, trying to follow as her and Owen collided in a massive blur that soon began to travel through the entire courtyard, their one-on-one fight carrying them through the length of the prison.

"Alain, go!" Az said as he sprinted by.

Alain didn't need to be told again. He hurriedly rose to his feet and rushed over to where Felix was lying. As he reached Felix's side, Alain's heart plummeted – Felix was extremely pale, shivering and grimacing on the ground, and the pool of blood surrounding him only continued to grow with every passing moment.

"Hey…" Felix said through gritted teeth as Alain knelt down alongside him.

"Don't talk," Alain warned, setting his bag on the ground and beginning to rifle through it. "I think I've got some bandages."

"Alain."

"-Get that wound fixed-"

"Alain, look at me."

Alain paused, then turned towards his friend, who was giving him a sad smile. Slowly, Felix shook his head.

"You could have all the bandages in the world and it wouldn't fix this," he said. "And you know it."

Alin just froze, continuing to stare at Felix, unsure of what to say. In the background, he could still hear Az, Sable, and Owen going at it, their ongoing fight continuing to carry them through the courtyard.

And yet, somehow, he found it impossible to focus on anything but his fallen friend.

After a moment, Alain lowered his head, heaving a shaky, tired sigh. "...I'm sorry," he offered.

"What for? It was short, but we had a good run together." Felix let out a small laugh, one that turned into a series of wet coughs that sent small droplets of blood flying through the air. He recovered after a few seconds, then turned to Alain. "I don't regret any of it, you know."

Alain's look turned to one of surprised confusion, but Felix just shook his head again. "We all die sooner or later, Alain. At least I can say I died trying to stop that evil fucker."

Despite himself, Alain couldn't help but give a small laugh at that. "Yeah," he said, even as tears filled his eyes. "I suppose you're right."

Felix again broke into another coughing fit, this one louder and more drawn-out than the last. When it finally subsided, he turned towards Alain, any sense of joviality he may have had in the past replaced with nothing but determination now.

"Hey," Felix said. "I don't… have much time left… do me a favor?"

"Anything," Alain said, leaning in to listen better.

Felix grimaced once more, the mere act of trying to form words apparently painful for him now. Despite that, he still managed to force them out, even through his own agony.

"Send this fucker… straight to hell for me… would you?"

Alain didn't hesitate for a moment. Instead, he merely nodded, even through the tears that had begun to spill freely down his cheeks. "...Sure," was all he could manage to say.

Felix sucked in a deep, shaky breath, then gave him a small nod. Then, as Alain watched, Felix looked up to the sky and burst out into another coughing fit, this one lasting for just a few seconds. And when it finally ended, Felix seized one last time, then stiffened, his body going still. Alain watched his chest rise and fall one final day, and heard the final breath leave his body; his hands curled into fists when he heard it escape from Felix's lungs, his own fingernails biting into his palms deeply enough to draw thin rivulets of blood.

For a moment, Alain stood there, gritting his teeth as tears continued to trail down his face and silent sobs wracked his body. It only lasted a few seconds, however – after that, he finally collected himself, then reached for Felix's body and unhooked his gun belt, hurriedly fastening it around his own waist, Felix's revolver now sitting comfortably at his left hip. Once that was done, Alain rose to his feet, wiped his tears away, and reloaded his weapons, then looked around for where Sable, Az, and Owen had ended up; he found them a short ways away, Az and Sable doubled over and panting for breath and covered in small scratches and bruises, but otherwise unharmed. Owen, meanwhile, didn't even appear winded, and was completely uninjured from what Alain could see.

But that didn't matter to him – he'd made a promise to a friend, and he intended to see it through.

And so, Alain worked the lever on his shotgun to chamber a round, then began to march over to where Sable and Az were standing across from Owen.

XXX

"And the prodigal son returns," Owen observed as Alain came over to join the three of them. "Just in time, too – the hour grows-"

"Shut the fuck up, old man," Alain said, cutting him off. Owen's brow furrowed slightly at that.

"Such insolence…! Well, no matter; I will-"

Alain turned towards him and fired off a shotgun blast. It didn't make impact, but he hadn't intended it to; rather, he simply wanted to cut Owen off again. And judging by how Owen gave him a short, unamused look, he'd succeeded.

Alain thumbed another shell into his weapon's magazine tube, then worked the lever action once more before turning to Sable.

"Felix is gone," he said simply.

"I'm sorry," she offered.

"Yeah." Alain looked over to Az. "How are you both doing?"

"We're alive," Az said, his gaze landing on Owen once more. "He doesn't have a scratch on him…"

"I know. We'll have to figure something out, and fast." Alain looked back over to the doorway to the prison, which was still open. "Think you both can keep him busy? I think it's going to take more than three of us to bring him down."

"We'll do our best."

"Good. Give me a few minutes, and I'll-"

"Smith."

Alain's gaze narrowed, even as he turned back to Owen; Owen stood there, his hands once again held behind his back, though his usual expression was gone, replaced with one of annoyance instead.

"You're the one I want, Smith," Owen explained. "Just you, and nobody else. None of your other friends have to die today. Give yourself to me willingly, and I shall spare them."

Alain hesitated. "Tempting offer-"

"Alain!" Sable hissed.

"-But you're forgetting one thing," Alain said. "And it's that my mother would kill me if she found out I agreed to it."

Owen's expression faltered once more. "Is this all funny to you, Smith? All these dead people, and your fallen friend… and yet you would sit there and continue to joke about it?"

"Believe me, Owen, the only funny part about this is that you'll be dead by morning," Alain growled. "I'm not sure how, but I know that it's coming."

"Ha! Such confidence… you continue to-"

Alain cut him off with yet another shotgun blast. This time, when Owen dodged out of the way, Alain took off running for the door.

"You two, keep him busy!" Alain shouted.

He didn't hear them shout any affirmations, but judging by how the sounds of combat resumed all around him, he didn't need to.

Alain sprinted for the doorway as fast as he could, the whole time praying that he'd be fast enough to alert the others and make it back before Owen succeeded in killing Sable and Az.