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[center][color=#FA66FF][b]Location:[/b][/color] Zach’s Apartment • [color=#FA66FF][b]Time:[/b][/color] Night[/center]
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[color=#3A5F7F]“Don’t have names.”[/color] Zachariah pushed himself away from the refrigerator, the cold metal leaving his skin feeling oddly bereft. [color=#3A5F7F]“Someone jumped me in an alley while I was investigating a potential vampire feeding ground.”[/color]

Someone [i]jumped[/i] him? Okay. That could mean one of several things. One, he could be beaten all to hell and was barely holding himself together. Two, he was perfectly fine, but worried that he had been caught. Or three…No. She didn’t want to think of the third option. Especially not when it came to vampires.

He wandered across the apartment to where his black shoulder bag sat beside his desk, its leather worn smooth from years of fieldwork. The silver buckle bore a small dent from the time he'd used the bag to block a lycan's punch, metal taking the hit meant for his face.

[color=#3A5F7F]“If you can find out who did this to me, feel free to ‘thank’ them.”[/color]

[i]...who did this to me…[/i]

Those words nearly made her stumble over her own feet as she ran. No. No, this couldn’t be the third option. He sounded perfectly fine on the phone, maybe a little bit hesitant. He was injured. He needed a hospital. That’s all this was. Science could fix him. [i]She[/i] could fix him. He would be completely fine in a day or two.

Zachariah opened the bag and rifled through its contents—notes, photos, and files from all those years of painstaking investigation. Dead ends that weren’t quite dead yet.

[color=#3A5F7F]“While you’re at it, mind finishing up Elijah’s case too? I have everything I’ve gathered over the years in my black shoulder bag.”[/color] He paused. [color=#3A5F7F]“Remember the one with the silver buckle?”[/color]

Hot tears pressed against her eyes as she raced towards the apartment building, now only half a block away. She could see the doors from where she was. [color=#FA66FF]”No. Elijah is [i]your[/i] case. Stop fucking talking to me like you’re fucking dying, damnit!”[/color] Sable couldn’t accept this. Wouldn’t accept this. Zach was all she had left. He was her family. 

[color=#3A5F7F]“That depends on what you do next, Sable.”[/color]

Her chest heaved as she finally arrived at the building. She had great stamina, but these emotions she was feeling? Absolutely foreign to her. Hurrying up to the elevator, she smashed the button several times before growling and giving up, instead opting for the stairs. [color=#FA66FF]”I’m in the stairwell, open your damn door.”[/color]

Zachariah moved toward the door. The locks came undone in reverse order of how he’d secured them. First the reinforced bar, sliding free with a metallic scrape. Then the chain, its links rattling against the doorframe. Finally the deadbolt, turning with a solid click that seemed to echo through the apartment.

A crash echoed down the hall—metal against concrete. The stairwell door. Footsteps thundered up the hallway, fast and uneven, punctuated by harsh breathing and the occasional muttered curse.

Zachariah pulled it open just as her fist came forward, catching her mid-motion.

For a heartbeat, they stood frozen—him looking down at her flushed face, her staring up at him with eyes that searched for injuries that weren’t there.

Not the kind she could see, anyway.

Sable forgot about her fist in his hand as her eyes darted over his face. All she cared about in that moment was trying to prove to herself that he was only merely injured. Nothing else could be wrong with him. And then, there it was- the realization. He was perfect. [i]Too[/i] perfect. 

Her body froze as her entire world was instantly destroyed.

Moving slowly, carefully, he reached down to where her other hand still clutched the phone. His fingers covered hers as he pressed the end call button, the soft beep breaking the silence.

[color=#3A5F7F]“Are you gonna put me down?”[/color]

He wasn’t dying. He was already dead. 

He was one of [i]them[/i].

A loud humming filled her ears, dulling her senses. Everything was too loud and too quiet all at once. If he had been anyone else, she wouldn’t have hesitated. He would be on the ground, her runeblade already plunged deep into his chest. But- this was Zach. Her family. The only piece of normalcy securing her to the rest of the world. And now he was what she despised most.

She could feel the tears burning against the back of her eyes. Eyes that were zeroed in on his glowing emerald ones. Ones that screamed monster. He wasn’t her Zach anymore. Never would be, again. 

She was going to get sick. Bile pressed at her throat before realizing he still held her hands. Pushing back away from him, she barely noticed when her phone hit the ground. Sable knew what she had to do. With the angry tears of anguish and betrayal hitting the tops of her cheeks, she brought her shaky left hand up to her throat where her amulet lay. Where her Ghostfire dust hid inside. She had a job to do.

His chest tightened as he watched the realization hit her—watched hope die in her eyes and something harder take its place. This was his fault. Didn’t matter that he’d had no choice… she was crying because of him.

Careful to keep his movements slow and unthreatening, Zachariah crouched to retrieve her phone from where it had clattered to the floor. When he straightened, he gestured toward his apartment. [color=#3A5F7F]“Come on, whatever you decide to do, it shouldn’t be in the hallway.”[/color]

Her eyes followed every single movement he made. Sable’s body buzzed with something she wasn’t quite familiar with. She didn’t know if she wanted to get sick, cry, scream. All of the above? All she knew for sure was that she wanted to obliterate the vampire who did this to her guy. And for what she was going to do about Zach? She couldn’t just leave him as he was. She had never before allowed a vampire who crossed her path to survive. 

Leaving the door open so she could walk inside on her own terms—or leave entirely if that’s what she chose—Zachariah returned to his apartment. He set her phone down next to the landline and switched off the dial tone that had been buzzing since they’d ended the call.

[color=#3A5F7F]“I’ve been organizing my things,”[/color] he said, his voice carrying easily to where she stood in the doorway. [color=#3A5F7F]“I have a bag for you too, so don’t forget to take it when you leave, okay?”[/color]

Taking a slow breath in, she flicked open the amulet and inhaled a quick line of dust. Her eyes closed for just a moment as she felt the drug ignite every single nerve ending in her body. Sable couldn’t focus on what he was saying. She knew, the minute she took out her butcher’s blade, he would put things together. He would know who she truly was. 

It didn’t matter anymore. He wouldn’t survive to tell anyone else her secret.

She reached down to her ankle and unsheathed her dagger, holding it firm in her right hand. With her left, she reached behind her and slid her runeblade from the holster at her back. Sable stepped into his apartment and kicked the door shut behind her. Couldn’t let one of the mundane witness what she was about to do. She kept her eyes focused solely on him as the dust made her body jerk with the need to move. 

His heightened senses caught the shift in the atmosphere. Every muscle in his body coiled instinctively, ready for violence. Then he exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax.

At least he’d been right about one thing. She wasn’t listening to a word he said anymore.

Would she even notice the bag he’d packed for her? Probably not. Her focus had narrowed to a single, lethal point. But the phone—her phone—she’d need that eventually. If she had to pick up the bag to get it...

Zachariah retrieved her phone from where he’d set it down and crossed to the duffel bag on the couch. The device slipped easily into the front pocket, hidden among the other things he’d gathered for her.

The family photo on the shelf caught his attention: five faces frozen in a moment of genuine happiness. His hand moved toward it.

If he was going to die—and the outcome seemed increasingly certain—then this was what he wanted to see last. Not the walls of his apartment or the hate in Sable’s expression. Just them. All of them together, the way they used to be.

His thumb traced across his twin brother’s face in the glass. [color=#3A5F7F]“Sorry EJ,”[/color] he whispered to the image. He’d hoped enough of himself remained to finish what he started, to find the bastards responsible and return the favor. But if Sable looked at him and saw only another monster that needed killing... well. Maybe she was right.

Footsteps drew closer behind him, deliberate and certain. Zachariah didn’t turn around. Better this way—easier for her if she didn’t have to see his face when she did what needed doing.

[color=#3A5F7F]“I’m sorry, Sable.”[/color]

Thanks to the dust, all of her senses were in overdrive. She watched his body tense and it caused a growl to escape her throat. Her grip on the blades tightened. If he was going to fight her back, she would be ready. And she would win. She took one small step towards him before she noticed him relaxing. The thought of him not even wanting to fight for his life surprisingly angered her more. And for him to keep his back to her, not even willing to look her in the eye? Coward.

Her attention darted over to the couch, where he placed her phone into a bag. She had to remember that for later. Looking back to the vampire in front of her, she bent her knees slightly in preparation to launch herself at him. She held her blades at the ready before his apology crossed her ears. It caused her to nearly stumble as she blinked. 

Vampires were never sorry. They certainly didn’t have any [i]feelings[/i]. And this wasn’t a monster speaking- it was Zach. Her best friend. The only person she had ever started to let in. The hold on her blades lessened as her body slumped. How in the hell was she going to kill him? She couldn’t live without the guy. Hanging her head, she squeezed her eyes shut and let hot tears hit the ground below her.

The air carried something unfamiliar. Salt and something sharper underneath. Tears. Zachariah blinked, startled by the realization that he could actually smell them. Another unwelcome addition to his expanding catalog of monstrous abilities.

He kept his gaze fixed on the photograph. For both their sakes, he wouldn’t turn around to confirm what his nose already told him.

[color=#3A5F7F]“Whatever you decide to do, it’s the right answer.”[/color] His voice stayed steady, matter-of-fact. [color=#3A5F7F]“And if you ever doubt what you did, just know that I’ll never hold it against you. I appreciate you, Sable.”[/color]

She cringed every time her name left the man’s mouth. This was too personal for her. Her kills were supposed to be simple, leaving her with such a rush that made her blood sing. Why did it have to be him? Why did the monsters have to take everything from her once again? What the hell had she ever done to deserve to be alone?

A dry chuckle escaped him. [color=#3A5F7F]“You know, you were always like the second annoying little sister I never asked for. Getting into trouble, making more work for me, stealing my booze and couch.”[/color] He touched the glass over Elijah’s face one more time. [color=#3A5F7F]“But I really did enjoy our time together.”[/color]

And there it was. The connection she couldn’t name- he was her brother. The pain stoked the fire burning within her chest.

The words came easier now, softer. [color=#3A5F7F]“I’m going to miss you, Sable.”[/color]

Squeezing her eyes tighter, she knew what she had to do. The breath slowly left her as she dropped her runeblade to the floor. Unlike her butcher’s dagger, it was the only thing that could end his existence. The grip tightened on the dagger still in her hand as she spoke to him, her voice choppy and broken. Low, but she knew he’d be able to hear her. [color=#FA66FF]”I’m a monster, too.”[/color]

The metallic clatter against the floor made his head jerk slightly, but he caught himself before he could turn around.

Did she... just abandon a weapon?

He frowned. In all the years he’d known Sable, she’d never willingly disarmed herself when exterminating a target. Not once.

Why—

[i][color=#FA66FF]“I’m a monster, too.”[/color][/i]

The frown carved deeper lines between his eyebrows. [color=#3A5F7F]“What?”[/color]

Now that he was no longer human—with senses he’d never possessed before—he knew with absolute certainty that Sable was human. Completely, thoroughly human.

So what the hell did she mean by that?

Her chest heaved as she tried to hold in the rest of her sobs. There was a secret she had been keeping from him. One that would change his entire viewpoint of her. He would know in an instant that she was not just a Warden who killed because it was her duty. No- he would know that she completely mutilated them. Under the Butcher’s hand, the supernatural were left tortured, shredded, dismembered. She took absolute pleasure in hearing their screams.

And for whatever reason, she couldn’t walk out of here without him knowing. What did that make her? Holding firmly onto the dagger, she ground her teeth before lifting her head to look at his back. Sable took in a quick breath and yelled out, putting all her power into a thrust that caused her butcher’s dagger to fly towards his right shoulder blade. 

Fire exploded through his shoulder blade as the dagger punched through muscle and sinew, the blade’s edge scraping against bone. White-hot agony lanced down his arm and up his neck, stealing his breath.

And with it came the beast.

The Sanguine Curse clawed its way toward the surface, every vampiric instinct screaming for retaliation. But the Warden in him slammed down like an iron fist. He seized the Curse by the throat, wrestling it back down while his vision tunneled red at the edges.

Zachariah bit down hard on his lip, fangs piercing the soft flesh until he tasted his own blood. The family photograph cracked in his white-knuckled grip, then shattered completely. Glass fragments bit into his palm, sharp edges slicing skin as his fingers closed around the jagged pieces.

His breath came in ragged gasps. Every muscle trembled with the effort of containing himself, of not spinning around and putting his fist through Sable’s chest. Not snapping her neck like kindling. Not tearing her heart from her ribcage and bathing in the warmth that would spill forth.

Knees buckled, and he collapsed forward, pressing his forehead and bloodied hands to the cool floor. A strangled sound escaped his throat as he pounded his fists against the ground, then his own skull, anything to drive back the monster.

Pain. Focus on the pain. Glass in his skin. The burning ache in his shoulder where her blade still rested.

And he waited for Sable to deliver the killing blow.

But it didn’t come.

Through uneven breaths, he managed to force out: [color=#3A5F7F]“You missed.”[/color]

Her entire body tensed as she watched him go to war with himself. She expected him to turn and unleash himself on her, like every other vampire before him had done. As he finally fell to the ground, she knelt down and picked up the runeblade she had let fall to the floor. Sliding it back into its sleeve behind her, Sable silently stalked her way behind him.

She clenched her jaw as she stared down at his hunched back. A small breath left her. [color=#FA66FF]”I never miss.”[/color]

Renewed tears, this time out of anger, bubbled up in her eyes. She gave a small shake of her head as a sob managed to break free of her throat. [color=#FA66FF]”Goodbye, brother. I-”[/color] She stopped herself from saying the words. The three words that would shatter her into tiny pieces if she said them out loud. Words that didn’t mean anything anymore. She shook her head to rid herself of the emotions threatening to take over once more.

Sable reached over to the couch and looped her left arm through the duffel bag before sliding it into the crook of her elbow. She returned her attention to his back, her dagger sticking straight out. A snarl curled along her lip as she leaned over, her fingers wrapping around the hilt of the blade. [color=#FA66FF]”The Butcher sends her regards.”[/color]

With one sharp tug, the blade was free from his back and she was out the door, the dust in her system making sure she was long gone.

Zachariah stayed on the floor until his breathing evened out and the urge was driven deep, deep down. Once it settled into manageable background noise, he got to his feet and went through the motions of locking the front door. The familiar ritual of securing his apartment helped calm his nerves.

He retrieved one blood pack from the refrigerator and drained it standing in his kitchen, treating it like medication rather than a meal. The crimson liquid soothed his throat, cleared his head.

[i][color=#FA66FF]“The Butcher sends her regards.”[/color][/i]

Zachariah set the empty pack on the counter, processing what he’d missed in the moment.

Sable was the Butcher. The “monster” who carved crescent moon scars into her supernatural victims that never healed, no matter their regenerative abilities.

A stunned laugh escaped him.