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Prompt: Friendly Executioner

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Prompt: Friendly Executioner

I looked over Integra's shoulder to glimpse pictures of my latest quarry. Long wavy hair, atrocious fashion sense, and a pretty face had me chuckling roughly. Oh the children these days! The romantic vampire had certainly become stylish and while I would not neglect to admit certain truth to the stereotype, I hardly think it should celebrated with such overwrought sincerity.

"Is he wearing a ruffled blouse?" I asked.

"It would appear so," Integra replied drily. "Don't peek over my shoulder. It's rude."

I chucked as I slid into the chair across from her and crossed my legs. "He looks like a punk. Tell me you're letting your human task force take care of it. It's barely worth the effort sending me and certainly not worth the cleanup."

"Intel has confirmed him as a reasonably powerful empath and psychic," Integra stated.

"No kidding? I'd have never guessed," I retorted, heavy on the sarcasm, light on the enthusiasm.

Integra arched an eyebrow at me. "Honestly, you complain enough about being bored, I'd have figured you relieved to have a job to do."

That was true. The only time I wasn't bored was when I was with Integra, but she couldn't cater to my every whim. "Have your people figured out his resting place?"

"Yes, he resides at an apartment in Piccadilly. He generally hunts the nightclubs, so if you leave in the early evening, you should be able to catch him without undue difficulty."

I sighed wearily, "As you wish."

"Don't sound too excited."

"Perhaps you could give me a reason to be excited," I challenged with a leer.

My master just rolled her eyes but her small smile held promise. "We'll see."

Good enough for me. I could work with 'we'll see.'

"So does this punk have a name?" I asked.

She seemed a bit surprised. I didn't generally ask after names. They were all trash to me, and undeserving of any acknowledgement otherwise. However these dandies were occasionally amusing as they picked the most absurd names out for themselves. So help me, if he were another Vlad I would kill him extra slow. Blow off a few limbs, intentionally miss the heart a couple times, maybe invade his mind and drive him insane, but then I suppose I'd have to tear out his larynx first. I hated him already, being this troublesome.

Integra shuffled through paperwork, adjusted her glasses, and I thought about launching myself over the desk to kiss her soundly. Her little human gestures were so charming.

"Oh...Claudio, I believe."

Fuck. I rubbed my temple and glowered at her.

Integra laughed and the fondness writ in her expression softened her amusement at my expense. "You asked. Go prepare and we'll meet back here in an hour for a full debriefing."

I grinned widely and it was her turn to look put out. She swore sharply and flushed.

"Out. Bloody pervert."

I just laughed and let myself out through the side wall.

---

Shooting the doorknob was out of the question, so I decided to just knock. He was in there, a surprisingly strong presence despite his idiotic appearance. Perhaps he would prove to be some sport after all. The door opened a crack and I casually stuck my foot in as I pushed the door inward. The quarry--fucking Claudio, christ--stumbled backward as he rattled off a litany of curse words in French. I smiled pleasantly as I shut and locked the door.

"Hi," I greeted.

His eyes were wide. He recognized me for what I was right away, which was refreshing to say the least. It was also a relief to find him dressed rather normally. Were he wearing satin pants I might have died laughing and that was no way to go. Not for me anyway.

"Who are you?" Claudio asked.

"Your death," I replied genially.

He laughed, and I thought about shooting him in the face just to prove a point. Never let it be said that I'm not fair, though really I was just waiting for him to do something. I like a little fight in my quarry. Perhaps it's the warlord in me. I like to walk away imagining that I'd bested them in combat even if that's hardly the case.

"Have I not gone through the proper introductions?" Claudio inquired. "I wasn't aware that any one of our kind had claimed London."

It was my turn to laugh. I think it's truly adorable that younger Midians either seem to believe that they're the only vampire to exist or that we had some complicated social hierarchy.

"I'm not sure what you're on about, but rest assured I'm here to kill you. Now then, will you fight or shall I just end it quickly?"

Much to my surprise he sat down in an armchair and scowled at me. "Surely we can work something out. I don't kill my victims. My presence will hardly put a dent in your feeding pool."

I clenched my jaw at his assumption. Honestly, I hadn't killed a human in a very long time. The Hellsing family had me on a strict diet of donor blood, and the only blood I'd sucked in a century was from other vampires or Integra's when she was feeling particularly generous in rewarding good behaviour.

"I don't kill humans...anymore."

"Then what's the problem here? Surely our kind is above petty territorial warfare in this day and age."

I sighed wearily. This was not the first time another vampire had engaged me in ideological discussion, though it was usually limited to condemnation that humans were little more than cattle. I wondered what puzzle of amorality and weasel logic I was about to get lectured on. Honestly, I prefer the rampaging monsters. Not for any sense of assuaged guilt, but because there was method to their madness.

What to do? Continue wasting my breath? Play his little game? He kept talking as he steepled his fingers in front of his face.

"Is there anything I can do to prevent this from getting ugly? A tribute, perhaps? I assure you there is nothing I can't obtain for you."

I snorted. What absurdity. I was well enough fed, had a protected lair, and a reasonably satisfying existence. It's not as though I care much for my own kind. This twat would still be dead even if I weren't bound by my master's orders.

"I'm afraid not," I replied. "You see, it's my duty to exterminate you."

He appeared amused. "Oh dear, I see now. Are you on a mission from god?"

His tone was mocking, and I was done playing childish games of debate and haggle. I shot him in the stomach and watched the bloom of flesh and blood with some satisfaction. His surprised expression was far more entertaining.

"Don't get up," I drawled as I advanced slowly and shot out his kneecaps for good measure. "You won't heal those wounds easily. Now, I believe we have some business to discuss."

I stood in front of him and watched him struggle. His hands clutched at the massive hole in his stomach as though it would somehow save him. This was really quite pathetic, but not one bit unexpected. These dandies liked the sound of their voices and the bullshit they believed.

"You're a fool," I told him.

"Why?" He gasped.

"Your fashion sense, for starters, but that's just an observation. The truth is we're no great evolution of man or even the devil's own. So to answer your question: No, I am not on a mission from god. I'm afraid that didn't turn out very well the last time."

He looked into my eyes and his own widened with horror. Revelation passed across his expression, and I could feel him like a whisper across my mind. Claudio's lips parted on a small, thready sigh.

"You're him," He breathed. "Mon dieu, you're Drac--"

I silenced him with a bullet, ruined that pretty face once and for all. There was no pleasure to this kill, and I scowled as I tore out his heart and smashed it under my boot heel. I located the apartment's phone and quickly dialed Integra's private line. She answered on the second ring, and I succinctly told her that it was finished and that I'd be home soon. I hung up; I wasn't feeling pleasant. If she got angry, well that would be a welcome distraction from the strange melancholy that had descended over my thoughts.

I left in silence and with little trace aside from spent bullet shells.

Finis.