Legendary Vampire in the Apocalypse
Chapter 29: Inglorious Bastard

Chapter 29: Inglorious Bastard

Dion’s feet ached as they carried him across the room. His vision had been pulsing red, the taste of blood coating his throat and bubbling up from his gut along with bile.

His heart pounded through his ears, and his breathing struggled to make it through his nose alone with how much he was pulling in. Blood spattered down from his clenched fists as he combed down the apartment.

He did not know where he was going in the apartment, and as soon as he had seen a door, he slammed through it so hard that it broke off its hinges entirely.

His breathing elevated higher, and all of the anger-induced power that he had felt simmering within him began to drain.

Dion’s legs felt weak, as is they would soon collapse under the weight of his body, heart, and his plague.

"Fuck!!"

The moment he had roared, everything that had seemed as if it were seeping away exploded forth from him.

His arm had whipped wildly, and he grabbed the first thing he had seen.

The shattering of it rippled through the apartment.

Then within moments, wood began to break again; he had at first thrown a lamp, and its glass broke across the floor, then moments later, the desk that it had sat upon broke over the ground, breaking it, and spilling its contents across the floor.

Dion’s feet had scraped across the ground, blood from his hands spattering around, then he had kicked hard.

His foot broke through one of the closet doors. It sent fissures of cracks through its figure, and it had gotten stuck.

"Fuck off! Fuck this shit! WHY!?"

The closet had been embedded in the wall before he ripped it out. Dion roared as his whole body threw it across the bedroom that he had broken into.

It hurtled through the air and shattered against the far wall, between two curtained sections, where it broke against one of the wall lamps, dimming the light in the room further.

His footfalls increased pace swiftly into a harsh run, then he kicked hard against the bed, sending it skidding and tumbling across the room.

There had been another lamp to its side that his impact made shatter against the weight of the bed.

Thereupon, Dion had turned, and he rushed to the wall where his bleeding, clenched fist broke through into the stone wall.

It embedded itself deep within it, crumbling fragments to the ground.

Dion ripped his arm free, and he had cocked his other hand back to damn another punch through it.

However, then, suddenly, he drew in a sharp, long breath.

His forehead collapsed against the wall, and he shut his eyes hard, his face mangling under regret, his gut churning as he scraped his forehead down to his knees.

"Just... why..." His voice hushed. "How did it all come to this? I would have had a good life... Everything was so well..."

Then, as blood spilled from his fists, the dribble of tears followed it down to the ground as he hung his head.

His hands clutched his pants, and he felt himself rip through their material, cutting through the skin of his thigh.

For some time, he had remained there.

Until eventually, he gradually dragged himself to his feet.

He had to take a bath.

His body was slick with blood, the saccharine taste of it smeared through his being, and he could hardly see, but he had to bathe.

Dion had only been moving, largely by instinct, when he went to open the side door of the bedroom, and it opened towards a bright bathroom.

Blood had then broken free from one of the wrist bands around his arm, and it shot through the light.

Then the sound of the mirror shattering resounded, its fragments falling into the sink.

The only light within the room remained the luminance of his blood-red, sharp eyes, pulsing.

And his fists were punctured through by glass.

The door shut hard behind him, and soon, the sound of the water running in the tub filled the room.

It was all only worsened by how his body so easily began to heal all the damage that he had done to it, forcing out all of the glass from his fist.

Then he felt the skin of his thigh and his forehead begin stitching itself back together.

Gradually, as he stood there in the middle of the bathroom, his head rose a little, and his expression began to loosen.

He closed his eyes, and the edges of his lips began to quiver. His clenched fists began to loosen, and the tension in his shoulders fell away.

Then his eyes slowly opened, looking there, to the ceiling, and beyond it, to paradise and to his friend; he scribbled on a smile, such a splendorous and wretchedly longing, trembling smile.

"..."

Eventually, once the water had filled the tub, Dion brought himself bubble bath through the darkness, fizzing it into the tub of scalding water.

His clothes had ruffled off of him, and his naked figure left them behind as he sank into the water.

One of his hands leaned over the edge of the water, and he leaned his head back.

Then he opened his chronicle.

Name: {Dion Borealis}

Sobriquets: {Emperor of the Hanging Garden of Babylon}, {Blessed of Her for Whom Dragons Rose Singing from the Sea}

Race: {Sanguinis – First Blood}

Vintage: {Rose}

Order of Origin: {Destitute}

Authorities: {Vassal Summoning}, {Treasury}

Attributes: {Divine Sanctification}, {Adored by Prana}, {Born of the Sea}, {Charm}, {Ruthless}

Ascent: {Sanguine Glory, Majesty of the Deathless Paradise}

Abilities: {Blood Manipulation}

Dimensions of Being: { Strength: E++ }, { Endurance: A }, { Dexterity: G }, { Agility: F+ }, { Perception: B }, { Soul: SSS }, { Mana: G+ }, { Magi: C }

Essence Saturation: —

Vestiges: —

Initially, he hadn’t been able to wholly understand his Ascent when he had read its description earlier, when he had been waiting for nightfall and his mana to recover to leave.

However, now, he felt perhaps he understood it a little better.

’Isn’t it funny,’ Dion laughed sardonically to himself, ’what an inglorious bastard I’ve turned out to be, like my nickname suggests?’

Thinking about it now, perhaps his ascent was a lot more fitting than he had initially thought.

After all, madness was one’s greatest high, and low, wrapped so delicately in revelrous, undying sweetness.

"Asya."

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