Gas mask, helmet, armor, shotgun, M16, 45, and a photo album. The man was unfairly encumbered as he ran out of the RV and into the field by the roadside. Clouds parted overhead, revealing moonlight over the castle in the backround. Just as Hank laid eyes on him and leveled the muzzle of his weapon, something fast and hard grabbed the gun and ripped it out of his hands. The dark colored weapon disappeared into the weeds as it fell some distance away, much to the human's dismay.
Before Hank could say another word, the figure in the blackness stepped forth. "Silence." Mithias said sharply. Firelight faintly iluminated an armored, cloaked vampire with a wide brimmed hat and long, straight dark hair. He had at least one sword at his side, but it was not drawn. The sounds of leather ripping air made it clear that the vampire operated a whip, and just as that realization was made, a painful and loud crack landed on Hank's left arm, the shock and pain causing him to drop his photo album and shotgun.
Mithias took a few slow steps through the grass as he played the whip around himself before letting it settle like a pet snake on the ground beside him. Golden eyes glanced at the burning van, then back at Hank. "You work for SOLDIER? ..." If SOLDIER had known of the vampire council meeting, then they would have done everything in their power to attack. Instead, only Hank showed up, so it seemed secrecy had at least lasted this long. The smell of dead vampire blood was sickening. There was no doubt Hank was a hunter, a murderer of young vampires. Mithias glared at him angrily. "Since you bear no ID, you are either a vigilante, or a coward." He stirred the whip again threateningly. The sounds of it cutting through the air was enough to make a mortal flinch. "You come at a very bad time, slayer. If you want to live, then you will answer my questions. Try to run and I will kill you. Now tell me, what do you know, and what have you told SOLDIER?"
Before Hank could say another word, the figure in the blackness stepped forth. "Silence." Mithias said sharply. Firelight faintly iluminated an armored, cloaked vampire with a wide brimmed hat and long, straight dark hair. He had at least one sword at his side, but it was not drawn. The sounds of leather ripping air made it clear that the vampire operated a whip, and just as that realization was made, a painful and loud crack landed on Hank's left arm, the shock and pain causing him to drop his photo album and shotgun.
Mithias took a few slow steps through the grass as he played the whip around himself before letting it settle like a pet snake on the ground beside him. Golden eyes glanced at the burning van, then back at Hank. "You work for SOLDIER? ..." If SOLDIER had known of the vampire council meeting, then they would have done everything in their power to attack. Instead, only Hank showed up, so it seemed secrecy had at least lasted this long. The smell of dead vampire blood was sickening. There was no doubt Hank was a hunter, a murderer of young vampires. Mithias glared at him angrily. "Since you bear no ID, you are either a vigilante, or a coward." He stirred the whip again threateningly. The sounds of it cutting through the air was enough to make a mortal flinch. "You come at a very bad time, slayer. If you want to live, then you will answer my questions. Try to run and I will kill you. Now tell me, what do you know, and what have you told SOLDIER?"
