Ilyas stood on the side of his house, staring up at his balcony. Glimmers of moonlight snuck their way into his bedroom through its open sliding door. Drowned out by the intense white glow of the lightbulbs fixed into the ceiling. He leapt up, jumping to the balcony with a soft thud. He crept inside, trying to make sure his sneakers didn’t squeak against the tiled floor. Ilyas sank into his rumpled blankets leaning against the bedrest. His silver hair was now slicked back, a few strands more irritating, hung loosely in front of him. Posters of Japanese manga were pasted across the rooms walls as if he had bounties to collect even there. His black tee shirt had a Pink sigil design on the left sleeve. Frayed books, crumpled sketches of ancient maps and minifigures with dice rested against a faded family photo. In that small space, memory danced, a harmony of nostalgia and whispered traditions.

He grabbed a pair of headphones on the side of his desk. His head bobbed while the bass and drums of his favorite tracks vibrated through them.He shut his eyes, getting lost in the rhythm. Tapping at his thighs as if he were making the song live. A melody mixing swirling synthesizers with hints of traditional rhythms soaked into him.

Then, a crisp voice sliced through the layered tracks: "Ilyas, you’re home?" Erza's tone, warm yet insistent, resounded from behind the door.

He pulled the headphones off. "Yeah, I just got back. I’ll come open now," he replied softly, his voice nearly lost amid the lingering notes. He set the headphones aside and stood, stretching limbs that rarely recalled the comfort of sleep. His room, cluttered with echoes of heritage and rebellious modernity, watched silently as he left. Baggy, black sweatpants billowed with each step.

As he opened the door, his older sister stood with her arms crossed as she looked at him. Despite being his full blooded sister, her hair was black and her eyes brown. Struggles of having a human dad, and a vampire mother. He chided in his head. She now frowned, looking at the antique clock against his wall. “Do you see how late it is? Why didn’t you respond to my messages?” 

He put his fists on his chin. “You see…about that. It was a bit more of a cat and mouse game today. I had no time, and then it started raining right, and I know my phone is waterproof but I don’t really trust-” 

“Oh whatever, at least you’re home,” she shook her  head. “So what was it today?” 

 He sighed. “Just a ghoul. A slippery one.” 

 “Well you should go eat something. I made burgers,” she smiled. 

 He nodded. “Thanks I’ll go in a bit. Are Kaleel and Amira asleep?”

 She raised her brows. “They have school tomorrow, you tell me.” 

 “I guess they are asleep,” he pursed his lips.

She looked at him with narrow eyes, not the kind that were angry, but sorrowful. “Ilyas. You know we’d be fine without all this right?” 

His eyes widened. “Huh?” 

Do you really believe that?

“You put your rewards for the bounties in the family account. Yet we do fine off of what Karim brings in from the Ashen Sancti. Anyway, dad left behind so many caring people that we don’t need to stress too much. You put your life in danger for no reason.” 

Ilyas went silent for a moment. Trying to force a facade. “Yeah I know that. I do it for the ease. It's more simple building a career off stray dark dwellers. Besides, someones gotta take care of the Ashen Sancti Watchers mess.” She didn’t reply. Not buying a word he said. He began to walk past her, not meeting her eyes. “I’m heading to the store. Want anything?” 

She gave up her pursuit for answers. “If they have fresh enough pies you can bring me one. I’ve been craving those for a while.” 

“Got ya,” he put his hands in his pocket as he began to walk towards the staircase. The walls of the corridor had some markings as he walked past. Names beside them signaling whose height each scratch corresponded with. Behind him he could hear Erza yell “Be safe!” 

 He closed the door behind him, looking over the lamp lit roads. The store wasn’t far off, barely down the road. He enjoyed the somber breeze that followed him. There were rarely anyone out this time at night, truly a den for isolation. Yet he didn’t mind it, it let him let go of all the fast paced movements, and stroll at a leisurely pace. He thought about what to get his younger siblings as he looked up at the sky. Maybe some mochi. They like mochi. He concluded. The blaring lights of the shop came into his view. As he reached it, he went through the electric sliding doors and went straight for the mochi. Grabbing two boxes before getting a bag of cakes for himself. The deli’s pies looked decently fresh. He shrugged as he grabbed one with a pair of tongs at the side, shoving it into a paper bag. Laying them down near the till the man working behind the glass barely glanced at him, his tired eyes half-lidded, more focused on the till than the customer. His balding hairline stared at Ilyas furiously. He pulled out his phone, paying for the items and thanking the man. He nodded and went back to leaning in his chair. Ilyas walked out with a bag in one hand. 

As he made his way back up, arriving at his doorstep, he was startled when a figure emerged from the shadows. He took a step back, raising an arm defensively as he did. The figure was wrapped in a tattered cloak, and being under the streetlamp the shadows hid his face. Ilyas let his arm down, assuming he was just a vagabond. “You okay?” He received no response. “You hungry? Well you’re in luck, got some burgers inside if you want.” He began to turn the doorknob. “Gotta be quiet though, my siblings are asleep, don’t need them waking up in the middle of the night. Oh I also have these.” He pulled his cakes out the packet, turning with a smile. His eyes widened in horror as he did. His body moved on its own, dropping the packet and diving to the side. The sound of the packet crunching on the floor was quickly distorted by the shattering of wood. Ilyas turned to the door, a silver stake embedded in it. “What the hell!” His head whipped to the figure who’s hood was now off, revealing a pair of red, narrow eyes and a grin embedded with daggers. Another vampire. No way.

They began to laugh. “Lucky me. Seems the blood of Erebus is weak.” 

Ilyas frowned. “Blood of what?” 

They pulled out another weapon from his cloak. A rapier that glinted. They rushed forward, stabbing and slashing despite the distance between them. Ilyas sprung off his hands backwards, sidestepping to avoid the blade. He held his right hand out, palm open. A swoosh cut through the air as his greatsword materialised in his hand. He swung back, clashing with the thin rapier. Despite the difference in size, the rapier held strong, bending enough to keep a stalemate.

The mans smile became even more twisted. “Typical of you Erebus, all strength, no finesse!” They swivelled the blade, detaching it from Ilyas and slashing his thigh. Ilyas fell to his knee, the man swinging his leg up, sent Ilyas in the air with a forceful kick. As he landed he groaned at the pain in his leg. The wound healed fast enough, but the attacker was already on him, the rapier going for his throat. Ilyas lulled his head to the right, the rapier grazing the skin on his neck. As the attacker's momentum continued forward, Ilyas’s left hand landed solid on his face, punching them backwards. They flew into the street pole, the metal bending to the shape of his body. Ilyas began to pant, grabbing his neck. Shit, this healing, it burns like acid, it’s going to keep me distracted if he keeps getting in slashes like that, the burn is going to consume me.

How the hell is he withstanding my sword with that flimsy needle, and with one hand? He rushed at the attacker, his greatsword held above his head. He slammed it down, but the attacker was quicker, sliding behind him and leaving multiple slices on the back of his legs. He once again fell, this time the rapier came with purpose. Ilyas was too slow, moving to the side it still pierced through his shoulder. He grabbed it and stood up, lifting the attacker in the air. He spun around, slamming him into the already bent lamp, causing its collapse. The attacker withdrew their sword as they fell, sending a sharp pain through Ilyas. The attacker rushed for him, but Ilyas pivoted, swinging his right shin into their arm. A crack sounded and they dropped the rapier. His smug smirk was gone now, replaced with a wince. Ilyas was the one smiling now. I have you! He grabbed the attacker by the nape, bringing his head down and slamming his knee into their gut. As he keeled over his knee, Ilyas began to rain elbows down on his back. He sent an uppercut that whipped their head back, following with a straight left. As the attacker stumbled back Ilyas began to bounce on his feet. Now I got you, you damned blood sucker. 

“You didn’t think I was just good with a sword, did you?” 

They cracked their nose back in place. A nasty crunch echoing into the night. “I was sent here to bring your corpse back, if I wasn’t able to subdue you, well, I will actually have to kill you. We can still use your body for the ritual.” 

“Is that so?” A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead, he tried to mask his concern. Ritual?

“It is.”

“Ok this is getting kinda romantic, it’s weird.” 

“Huh?” 

In the pause, Ilyas picked up a stone, crushing it into dust. He dashed it in their eyes. As they clawed at their vision with one hand, Ilyas ran up to their extended arm,  He grabbed the wrist, pulling it and napping the elbow with his other hand. He followed along the arm, chopping his neck with a flat palm. He kicked his leg up, swinging it across their head. As their vision recovered, they went for their rapier again. No shot, I’m dead if he grabs that damn needle! He intercepted him, tackling him through a fence wall. They had their foot on his chest however, kicking him off. They got to the rapier, slicing through the air with glee. Ilyas stood on the defensive now, waiting for their attack. He glanced behind the attacker, his own blade was too far. The assault began. They started slicing at Ilyas, he held his arms up, tanking most of the slashed. His blood spattered, dark against the streets. The attacker drew the blade back, thrusting it forward, the blade sank deep into Ilyas’s stomach, sending a hot throng of pain to burst through him. Ilyas grabbed onto his wrist with his left hand, crushing it and keeping him frozen in place.  A wicked grin now marked Ilyas. “Game over.” he drew his hand back, pointing his fingers forward. The attackers eyes widened as they realised they were caught. Ilyas speared the hand through the left side of his chest. Their body went limp. Ilyas released his grip and drew back his hand. House lights began to turn on, awakened by the duel. He grabbed the corpse, leaping into the shadows of his own house. He slumped back against the wall outside, clutching the fresh wound in his stomach, and panting. The burn increased. That guy, if he had his sword for a bit longer I’d probably be dead. Ilyas admitted to himself, glancing at the rapier still strewn across the street. None he had faced, had ever pushed him so far. Was I lucky? Or was I better? He leaned more towards luck, not wanting to admit his lack of swordsmanship.