Kiss of the vampire (K.O.T.V)
"The girl with the Sharp sword"
Mission 13: " HE WHO REMEMBERS"
The heavy gates of the Black Order HQ creaked open as the emergency convoy rolled in. Hunters in black and silver uniforms rushed forward, clearing the path. Bloodied and unconscious, Deyviel lay slumped across Denver's back, while Ethan walked alongside, his own jacket torn and scorched.
Up on the metal scaffolding above the courtyard, Alex stood in silence, arms crossed, a frown carving lines into his pale face.
"Hmph," he muttered. "He always survives... no matter what."
He watched as the medics rushed over. Deyviel's blood dripped onto the ground, but even in that state, people looked at him like he was some kind of savior. Praise poured in, whispers blooming around him.
"He's amazing..."
"Did you hear? He fought Lancer himself..."
"And won! They say the Vampire King's dead!"
Alex turned away in disgust. "Disgusting."
---
Later that evening, cloaked and silent, Alex followed at a distance. Deyviel had woken up and left the HQ alone, hood over his head, his gait casual despite his injuries. He stopped by a small convenience store, bought two bags worth of groceries, and walked like nothing ever happened.
And then... he went home.
A modest old apartment at the edge of town.
Alex watched from across the street as Deyviel fumbled for his keys and opened the door. Excited voices greeted him from inside.
"Welcome home, Big Bro Deyviel!"
Two kids. A boy and a girl.
Alex's eyes twitched. Those kids... the halflings. The ones he thought he'd killed along with their vampire mother.
---
[FLASHBACK – YEARS AGO]
It was supposed to be a routine purge. Eliminate the creature hiding among humans. A woman—pale skin, sharp eyes—she begged.
"Don't hurt them. Please. My children, they're not like me... please."
He didn't care. Evil was evil. She was a vampire.
He slashed her throat.
The kids screamed.
He raised his blade toward them too... but the Hunters arrived. Reinforcements. He vanished before he could finish the job.
But he never forgot those eyes. And now... they were under Deyviel's care?
Unforgivable.
---
As he stood there, hatred bubbling, his mind drifted back—farther than the Hunters, farther than the blood.
Back to high school.
---
[FLASHBACK – HIGH SCHOOL DAYS]
A shy, scrawny Alex clutched his books, eyes down, moving fast through the hallway. He wasn't anyone. A nobody. Just a nerd walking behind her.
Elisia.
She was everything to him.
One afternoon, four delinquents surrounded her by the bike racks. His legs shook, but he ran in anyway.
"Leave her alone—!"
But someone else beat him to it.
"Man, don't you have anything better to do than harass a girl?" said a confident voice.
Deyviel.
He moved like a storm. One, two, three, four—down. The punks scattered, moaning in the grass.
Alex didn't even get to say anything. Elisia ran up to Deyviel, eyes shining.
"Are you okay? That was amazing!"
They walked away. Together. Laughing. Leaving him behind.
---
From then on, it was always like that.
Deyviel the star. Deyviel the fighter. Deyviel the kind-hearted protector.
When Alex warned her—"He's just a thug. He likes beating people up."—she smiled softly.
"No. He only beats up bullies. He's misunderstood, just like you, Alex. If you just got to know him..."
But Alex never did.
He only watched as Deyviel excelled in academics, sports, arts— even the teachers adored him. Every girl admired him. Every guy respected him.
And Elisia? She never looked at Alex again.
---
[FLASHBACK – THE BUS INCIDENT]
The bus skidded across the wet highway. Metal screeched. Glass shattered. Screams filled the air.
Alex, walking home from the library, looked up in time to see it.
The bus teetered on the edge of the bridge, already crushed from the side. Inside, he saw her—Elisia—pressing her hand against the cracked window.
"Elisia!!"
He sprinted. Fast as he could.
Then he saw someone else. Running from the other side.
Deyviel.
"Elisiaaa!!" he shouted.
Alex got there first.
He clawed at the mangled door. His hands bled from broken glass. He screamed. He pulled.
But it wouldn't open.
"Elisia! Hold on!!"
Her eyes met his.
"Alex..." she smiled, weakly. "Thank you. Tell Deyviel... I love him."
And then—
A truck slammed into the bus, punching it into the river below.
He screamed.
He was about to dive in when a shadow fell over him.
A man.
Fangs.
Red eyes.
"Na ah ah," the vampire smirked. "Not today."
He was struck across the face. Darkness followed.
As he lost consciousness, the last thing he saw was Deyviel.
Crying.
Screaming.
Just like him.
But still too late.
---
[BACK TO PRESENT – HUNTERS HQ, YEARS LATER]
Alex's fists clenched.
He had joined the Hunters five years after Ethan and Mizuno. He tried to rise in the ranks. Tried to hunt that vampire who took Elisia.
He failed.
Again and again.
Until Captain Ron Jin Wu saved him, and brought him in.
Then came Deyviel.
Stronger than ever.
Faster than ever.
Even more praised. Beating vampires. Leading missions. Earning the trust of his childhood friends—Ethan and Mizuno.
And then... he saved Alex.
Again.
Alex led his team into a trap. Nearly got them all killed.
But Deyviel showed up. Fought off the halflings. Pulled him out of the rubble.
Alex screamed at him.
"I hate you!"
Deyviel tilted his head. "Have we met?"
Alex's breath caught. His heart stopped.
He didn't remember him.
He didn't even remember Elisia.
That was the final crack.
---
Later that year, he vanished from the Order.
And reappeared among the Evangelists.
The Red Moon Incident came.
Deyviel fought Lancer.
Won.
The world called him a hero.
And then the Pope himself, a twisted man cloaked in gold and hate, spoke to Alex.
"He is no hero. He is the flaw of this world. A demon. A liar in a savior's robe. Watch him. And when the time comes... do God's bidding."
Alex nodded.
Eyes cold.
Heart burning.
He knew what he had to do.
Take everything from Deyviel.
Make him remember.
And then—make him pay.
Alex didn't move from his post across the street. The sun had long since dipped beneath the skyline, and the glow from Deyviel's apartment spilled warmly through the window. Inside, the kids laughed—muffled but happy. Deyviel's voice joined them, calm and light.
A normal life.
A life Alex could never have.
His fingers twitched on the hilt of the blade hidden under his coat. But he didn't draw it. Not yet. He was waiting. Calculating. The kids would be alone soon. Deyviel never stayed long—he always came and went like a ghost with groceries.
Minutes passed.
Then the front door creaked open again.
Deyviel stepped out.
And this time, he wasn't alone.
Walking beside him was a woman.
Tall. Strong posture. Long, dark hair tied back behind her head. Her steps matched his like they'd done this before. She bumped his shoulder playfully with her own.
Maya.
Alex had heard her name in the reports. One of Deyviel's closest allies. A vampire—a progenitor's kin—yet still the girl had been pardoned because of him.
They walked down the street toward a quiet intersection. The lamplight hit her just right as she laughed—loud and free. Deyviel grinned and rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed.
He used to smile like that with Elisia.
They paused at a vending machine.
She shoved him toward it, teasing him about something.
He pushed back gently, shaking his head with that same awkward, boyish grin.
Then she looked up at him.
He looked down at her.
And for a second—
They just stood there.
The light buzzing above them, the cold wind brushing past, the city distant and quiet.
It was intimate.
Warm.
Familiar.
And something in Alex shattered all over again.
---
His fists clenched so tightly, the leather of his gloves cracked.
"She's just... another one, isn't she?" he muttered to himself.
Just like Elisia.
He remembered that day in the hallway, Elisia's gentle voice, her smile. Her kindness. Her soft hands brushing past his arm as she said, "If you got to know him... you might even like him."
He didn't want to remember that.
He wanted to remember the scream.
The bus.
The river.
The blood.
Her whisper—"Tell Deyviel I love him."
He never told him.
Why should he?
The bastard didn't even remember her.
---
Alex turned his back to the scene, swallowing the acid rising in his throat.
Behind him, Deyviel and Maya walked further down the block, side by side.
They were talking about the kids.
About groceries.
About life.
Like it was all normal.
Like they deserved this.
Like Elisia never happened.
He walked into the alley and punched the wall.
Once.
Twice.
The skin of his knuckles split, blood running down his glove.
Still not enough.
Not enough to wash it all away.
Not enough to bring her back.
Not enough to undo what that monster stole from him.
---
He slid down the wall, breath ragged, and looked up at the starless sky.
"Soon," he whispered.
"When the time is right… I'll remind you, Deyviel. Of everything you've forgotten. Everything you've taken. And I'll make you regret ever surviving that day."
His lips curled into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"I'll be the last thing you remember."
The grand chamber of the Evangelist Cathedral was silent. Thick candle smoke drifted lazily beneath the stained-glass dome, casting colored shadows across the white marble floor. Crimson tapestries lined the walls—depictions of angels smiting demons, of saints bathing the world in holy fire.
At the center stood Alex, kneeling before a golden altar shaped like a sword piercing a serpent.
The Pope—Patriarch Alzareth IX—stood above him on the dais, clad in his pristine white and gold robes, his silver eyes cold, unblinking.
"You've seen him," the Pope said, voice echoing like steel against ice.
"Yes, Your Holiness," Alex replied, keeping his head bowed. "Deyviel has returned to Black Order headquarters. He's alive—barely. Bloodied, wounded... but still breathing."
"And what did he do the moment he could stand?"
"He went home. To the slums."
Alzareth's eyes narrowed.
Alex clenched his fist.
"He's keeping them," he said. "Two halfling children. Survivors from a vampire cleansing operation five years ago."
The Pope raised an eyebrow. "You mean the mission you personally led."
"Yes," Alex answered tightly. "The mother was a halfling. I eliminated her, but... the children survived. Deyviel is raising them. Feeding them. Laughing with them like they're human."
A moment of silence passed.
Then the Pope chuckled.
"Fascinating," he murmured, folding his hands before him. "Even after all this time... he clings to monsters. A demon who thinks himself a savior. A contradiction in flesh."
He stepped down the stairs slowly, robes trailing behind him.
"You saw how the world celebrated him, didn't you?" the Pope continued. "After he killed Lancer—no, transformed into that abomination—still they cheered. Called him hero. Chosen. Saint."
Alex nodded. "But I saw it, Your Holiness. The horns. The black fire. He used something unholy. A power born of corruption. The others may ignore it, but I won't."
The Pope stood directly in front of him now, hand hovering just above Alex's bowed head.
"You will not," he said. "Because you are my sword, Alex. My judgment made flesh. And when the time comes... you will strike down the flaw of this world."
Alex's heart pounded. His voice came out low.
"Permission to act?"
"Soon," the Pope said softly. "Let the world love their false messiah for now. Let him gather his flocks, his friends, his monsters. Then, when they all look to him for hope—"
He leaned in close, lips near Alex's ear.
"You will tear that hope out of their hearts."
Alex looked up, eyes burning.
"I will make him remember. Make him regret."
The Pope smiled.
"Good. Now go. Watch. Wait. And when the Red Moon returns... you will do God's bidding."
Alex rose to his feet, bowed low, and turned away, his mind already racing with plans, with vengeance, with one thought:
"I will erase everything you love, Deyviel. Starting with them."
Location: Underground Evangelist compound.
Time: Late at night. Candles flicker in brass holders.
Alex stood in a narrow chamber carved out of stone, surrounded by relics and forbidden weapons.
He slowly unwrapped a cloth bundle on a marble table. Inside lay a jagged dagger made of black silver—Seraph's Fang, a weapon that seared demons and saints alike. On the hilt, a single word glowed faintly: "Judicare."
Beside it: files, photos, and a stack of surveillance crystals. All of them pointed to one name.
Deyviel.
There were pictures of him walking the children home. Another of him standing beside Maya, laughing, the sunlight hitting them like a portrait. A snapshot of him fighting an elder vampire, bathed in blood and flames. Even his old academy records—perfect scores. Highest combat ratings. Praised by teachers. Loved by everyone.
Alex flipped through them with a cold stare.
"He gets to live like this," he muttered. "Like none of it ever happened. Like Elisia never existed."
He tapped a button on the wall. A glowing orb projected a 3D image of the children's faces.
"They're still alive because of him," he whispered. "But I took their mother. I killed her. And still... they smile at him like he's their savior."
Alex's hands trembled.
"I'll kill the halflings. Burn their home. And when he's down on his knees—I'll make him remember her. Elisia."
He pulled out a small necklace from his pocket.
Elisia's.
He stared at it for a moment, then slipped it over his neck, letting the cold metal rest against his chest.
"I swear… by her memory. You'll suffer, Deyviel."
Location: Deyviel's small apartment, outskirts of the city.
Time: Early evening. A breeze passes through open windows. The sky glows orange.
The old wooden door creaked open. Deyviel stepped inside, holding two grocery bags in one arm, a bag of warm bread tucked under his chin.
"Kids! I got the ube bread you like!"
Two small figures rushed out from the back—Lina, the younger sister with sun-colored eyes, and Toru, her older brother, quiet but always alert.
"Kuya Deyviel! Did you get the chocolate one too?"
"Of course I did," he smiled, ruffling Lina's hair.
Maya appeared from the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, wiping her hands with a towel. "Took you long enough. I almost burned the rice."
He raised an eyebrow. "Don't you dare ruin my longganisa."
She tossed a towel at him, grinning. "Shut up and set the table, you brute."
The four of them gathered around the small wooden table. Deyviel handed out plates while Maya placed the dishes. Lina bounced in her seat. Toru said a quiet thanks.
There was warmth here. Not perfect. But real.
As they ate, Maya leaned her chin on her palm, watching Deyviel laugh with the kids.
"You've changed," she said softly.
He glanced at her. "I've just… slowed down."
She raised an eyebrow. "You, Deyviel the Brawler, slowed down? The guy who once tried to punch a beast for fun?"
He chuckled, eyes softening. "I don't want them to grow up thinking that strength is everything. I want them to feel safe."
Maya looked down at her plate, voice quiet. "You never talk about that day. The raid."
Deyviel's smile faded just a little. "Some things… I'd rather carry alone."
The room fell silent for a beat.
Then Lina reached over and placed a small stuffed toy beside his plate. "Kuya, he said you looked sad."
Deyviel blinked. Took the plush in his hand.
He smiled again.
"Thanks, bud. I needed that."
Outside, the wind howled faintly.
Watching from a rooftop across the street, Alex knelt in the shadows—eyes locked on the warm light spilling from Deyviel's home.
He whispered:
"One by one… I'll take it all."
Later that night when both of Maya and Deyviel is sleeping (note they're not sleeping together ok)
Time: 2:43 AM
Place: Deyviel's apartment, outskirts of the 7th District
The city slept under the blood-hued sky, the distant howl of mana sirens fading into the night. Inside the apartment, the warmth of a cheap heater hummed faintly. On the couch, two children—Lina and Toru—lay huddled under a patchwork blanket, their breathing soft and peaceful.
The silence broke only when a faint creak echoed through the small kitchen.
A shadow slipped in through the back door, cloaked in black, footsteps feather-light.
Alex.
He moved like smoke—deliberate, slow, patient. His silver dagger glinted faintly beneath his coat. Eyes locked on the two children. His breath shallow. Focused.
"I should have done this five months ago," he whispered to himself, raising the blade.
He took a step forward.
Then—
A click from the bedroom door.
The hallway light flickered on.
A figure appeared, rubbing her eyes.
Maya.
Half-awake. Wearing an oversized shirt. Hair tousled. She blinked toward the living room, sensing something off.
Alex froze.
Still as a statue.
She didn't see him—not directly. Her gaze swept the room once, slowly.
Then her brows furrowed.
"…Did I leave the window open?"
Her voice was soft. Suspicious.
She padded barefoot across the floor and reached out.
The window near the couch was cracked open, a cold breeze slipping in. Outside, the faint sound of a garbage truck passed by. Maya hesitated, then gently slid the glass shut and twisted the latch.
Click.
She yawned, muttered something under her breath, and turned away.
Alex was gone.
Vanished. No sound. No trace. Only the faintest scent of iron in the air lingered.
Maya cast one last glance toward the sleeping children, but said nothing.
She returned to her room, closed the door softly behind her.
The room was quiet again.
Peaceful.
But on the building across the street—
Alex watched.
Eyes narrowed. Knife still in hand. Bloodlust simmering just beneath the surface.
"This time," he whispered, voice cold as the night air, "I'll make sure you're gone before anyone wakes up."
Morning light filtered through gray clouds, the air already thick with the promise of rain.
Inside the cramped hallway of the safehouse, Deyviel stood facing his adopted father, bags slung over one shoulder, sword case in hand. Beside him, Maya checked the clasp on her gauntlet. Neither looked eager to leave, but the mission came first.
"You sure about this?" Deyviel asked, glancing over his shoulder where the two kids—Lina and Toru—peeked out from behind the curtain.
"I can handle a couple of rowdy orphans," his father chuckled, but his voice cracked just a little. "Son…"
He paused. Then reached out and placed a hand on Deyviel's shoulder.
"Just do me a favor," he said, voice low. "Come back safe. Not for me—but for them. They've lost enough already."
Deyviel's eyes softened. He gave a small nod, one hand briefly ruffling Toru's hair.
"We'll be back before you know it," Maya said, flashing a smile to Lina.
The door closed behind them. Their boots echoed down the stairs.
---
wet from the rain, his blade in hand.
He stepped forward, slow and deliberate.
"No more waiting," he whispered, crouching near Toru. His voice barely above a breath.
After that the two enter the black SUV sped down a rural highway under fast-darkening skies. The road stretched endlessly ahead, empty.
Inside, the team bantered.
Denver was cracking jokes with Mizuno, while Kliev adjusted the settings on his rifle. Ethan sat in silence, eyes scanning the mission brief. Laughter rose in the background.
But Deyviel sat in the back seat, staring out the rain-flecked window.
Suddenly, his body jolted.
A sharp chill ran through him—like something had torn straight through his chest and out the other side.
His hand reached instinctively for his sword.
Then—
BOOOOOM.
A loud rumble cracked through the sky, as the first drops of a heavy storm slammed against the windshield.
Everyone fell silent.
"What the hell was that?" Kliev muttered.
Mizuno glanced over. "Thunder. I think."
But Deyviel's gaze didn't move.
He just kept staring ahead.
Eyes distant.
Jaw clenched.
Somewhere, deep in his chest…
Something was wrong.
That Night.
Rain tapped lightly against the windows. The TV buzzed low static in the corner. The two kids had fallen asleep curled up near the couch, warm under a thick blanket.
Then, a creak.
The window in the hallway slid open. A cold breeze blew in.
A figure stepped inside.
Alex.
His coat was soaked, hair clinging to his face. His eyes burned with something between grief and hate.
He stepped quietly into the living room.
The sword in his hand glinted in the dark.
He stared at the sleeping children.
His lips curled.
Voice low.
Sharp.
Final.
"Time for your reckoning."he said as the thunder crackles behind him.
To be continued....