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Ace Vampire Hunter - Apollo Justice

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The phrase “I am the morning sun that shall vanquish this horrible night!” echoed and screamed to the hypothetical monster near. It cried, louder and louder, with the intent of showing courage and strength, yet not unlike a lost infant desperately asking for help in a dark alley. The poor citizens nearby, however, did not appreciate this shriek hurting their ears so early, if at all. The spellcaster who cursed them to this headache was, however, a single young man (or, rather, a young single man) called Apollo Justice.
Justice was, despite the name, not as strong-willed as the Goddess who shares it, since he couldn’t strike a gavel down on evildoers, let alone have the muscle to carry it. Of course, it’s not like he's a god or anything, being just a young 20-something man. What he actually is, however, is a professional in training. Specifically, combat training, less of a military kind, and more of a “vampire hunter” kind. Literally.

It turns out the screams coming from Apollo’s insanely loud vocal chords were actually to prepare for vampire hunting. Now, if you were to ask, “What does matinal screaming have to do with vampire hunting?” I would have to answer, “I don’t fucking know.” But he did, and that’s what’s important.

Going from his empty and cold bathroom from where he screamed, to his also-empty-yet-warm bedroom, and then to his living room, where he quickly got his keys and left, it was clear that, despite owning the place, Apollo didn’t live there. But he didn’t have time to reflect on the matter either, as he sprinted towards his destiny: bread.

After getting the food he needed for a good breakfast, Apollo ran to what he actually needed to do in this particular morning. Though he was already used to the routine, he couldn't help but feel nervous and anxious around Gavin, his mentor in holy matters.

Ah, yes, Kristoph Gavin. A powerful man with a fierce look who could make you burn in hell for simply staring at him for too long; granted he didn't already curse you to go there because it's your bad hair day. Not satisfied with the threatening aura of his actions, he had a hair so straight and sharp-looking, he could probably stab a man with it. Some would say it even looked like a pencil, but none had the courage to do so out loud. Below his deadly, blonde knife of a hair, he had a tall, slim body, one that would make you think that if he said he survived strictly on wine and biscuits, you wouldn't be surprised. Nothing, however, could beat that man's exterior. He wore a blue coat - close to purple - and a pair of white-tinted glasses, both items that made his character fit his role.

"You are late, Apollo," Kristoph said, in his regular deep tone of voice. "Do you understand this?"

Apollo felt his whole body shiver quickly, his hand clenching fiercely on itself. He couldn't even see Gavin, and yet he knew he was there? "I-I do!" screamed Apollo, after regaining his composure. "I mean, yes, I do, sir. My apologies!"

"Ah, I see. You were doing vocal training again, yes?" Kristoph said, in the same tone as before.

"It's my strongest characteristic!" Apollo exclaimed once again. No matter what Kristoph thought of him, he couldn't deny it: Apollo had an amazing skill with sounding upbeat and ready, yet depressed and unprepared at the same time.

"Are you ready for today's lesson? I know you've got a particular problem with handling holy power, so I assume it shall be a long day for--"

Apollo saw Kristoph's face get even more cold than normal. "What's wrong?" he asked, following his sight to see five police officers and a priest walking in their direction.

"If you excuse me, Justice, I think those men are looking to talk to me."

As Kristoph walked away, a different-sounding, yet similarly adult voice whispered to Apollo. Surprisingly unbothered, he took a better listen:

"Hey, kid. Look."

Turning to answer, Apollo saw a man dressed in the dirtiest (in the literal sense, please) clothes you'd see someone wear in a neighborhood such as this one. He had a badly done beard, dark spots under his eyes, baggy clothes and… Sandals. He was hiding, too, which means he was probably a criminal, even.

"What?" said Apollo very calmly, guessing he wasn't much of a threat.

"You see the smug looking guy? Yeah, so, the police thinks he’s a vampire.”

“WHAT!?” the fuck did he say?

“Shh, are you nuts? Keep quiet!” he kept whispering so Apollo calmed himself down. “Yeah they’re right, he’s a fucking vampire. Ever asked yourself why is he so powerful and deadly looking, and why his skin looks so soft, and why he could murder a man, and why his hand is always shaking,”

“Wait what was that before those other things?” “Well, basically, the police can’t get him alone because he’s also a master at deceit and shit, so I need your help”

Apollo was so confused at this point. What the fuck is today. Maybe this guy has something cool to offer, though. Like a little light in the middle of a boring and endless routine.

“Okay so you need me to, what, help you be a witness or something because I’m his apprentice?”

“Oh?” the man paused, “You’re his apprentice? No, no, I was just going to ask you to distract the police while I stole some evidence.”

Suddenly, Apollo regretted being there.

“If you say so, though, yeah that would probably be a better plan. Come with me.” the man said.

While they infiltrated Kristoph's chambers, Apollo took the time to observe that strange, homeless man who was currently… Looking through the trash.

"Hello? Are you, like, uhm," the man seemed unphased, "I-I hope you're okay…?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," he answered, sounding like he had something in his mouth. “I’m just, uh…” he turned to Apollo, showing that was in fact a lollipop he got out of nowhere, “I know what I’m doing, kid.”

“Oh, so, what’s your name? How do you know my professor?" “You can call me, uh…” he pauses, thinking on how to avoid the second question, and whispers, “Fuck it,” and says “the name’s Phoenix Wright. Ever heard of it?”

"PFFFT," whatever that sound was, Apollo did it, and followed, "I am not seeing some random guy say he's Phoenix Wright while he breaks into Kristoph's place I am not seeing that."

"Why, something's wrong with that?"

"Yeah, well, he's kind of a legend. And I know what happened with his reputation and all that but I honestly think that… That he had something going. And it's irresponsible of you to make fun of him like that."

"Kid, I'm not making fun of anyone, I am…" he looked at Apollo.

Apollo had a kind of baby face going for a 21 year old. That might make you look at him like he's just a dumb, immature kid, but his clothing has this aura of someone who knows what they're doing, in that department. He had a particularly interesting haircut, one that was brown and very short, but also had two little "horns" on the front; they looked very pointy and could probably be used to make fun of him, yes, but it's a style; a fashion statement. Phoenix wasn't with his best look now, but he had experience with flashy, colorful outfits. So when he noticed Apollo's clothes, specifically the red jacket, he spoke: "You like that guy, huh?"

"Phoenix? Oh, yeah, I've read some things about him, some time ago…"

Phoenix stares at Apollo.

"I've read everything I could find on him," he said, while Phoenix (?) began to laugh. "Look, it's not, it's, like, it's just…"

"Go on, you can do it, kid."

"He's so cool! I'm literally training to be someone like him and I just want to be a hunter or at least something that… Protects people. You know. Someone just."

"I appreciate it. That also makes you even more obligated to help me, even."

"What!? Why?"

"Well, you don't want that shady smith going around biting people, do you?"

"He's my mentor! What am I even going to do if he's gone?"

"Well, sometimes you just gotta give up. I think I found what I needed. Let's go."

Phoenix and Apollo both headed to the 7 men talking. "Is why they're there really the vampire thing?" asked Apollo.

"Yeah, pretty much. They can't do shit alone, though."

Seeing how calmly they spoke with each other, Apollo thought they didn't have evidence, or even a warrant. And knowing Kristoph, he probably had the dominance over the conversation because of it.

"Hello, Apollo. I thought you didn't want to leave your lesson," said the monotone-voiced professor.

Apollo whispered "My name's Apollo Justice and I'm fine, my name's Apollo Justice and I'm fine, my name's Apollo Justice and I'm fine," only to follow with a quick answer of "No."

"Wait, fuck, that didn't make sense!" he thought, but it was too late.

"Is that who I think it is?" said one of the officers, looking at Phoenix.

"Yep. It's me." he pointed at himself with a confident stance.

"You shouldn't be here, Wright," spoke the priest with his very deep, ranged voice. "Not under normal circumstances."

"Well, these aren't normal circumstances, father. Observe," he said, while throwing grains of rice to the ground. He then looked at Kristoph.

Kristoph looked at Phoenix. Then the officers at both of them. Then the priest at Apollo, and then at Phoenix, then at Kristoph. Then Apollo looked at everyone.

"If you excuse me, gentlemen," Kristoph said while he tied his hair up, "I'll collect these grains that this fool just dropped."

He crouched, and collected them. "One grain, two grains, three grains, four grains," he repeated.

Phoenix took the situation to whisper to the other men there. "Do you see this shit? Or do I need to bring garlic? Because I have some."

"You will not murder a man in front of us, Mr. Wright. However, you do have a point."

"Can't you turn a sink on or something?" offered Apollo.

The officers, the priest and Phoenix all stared at him.


"One-hundred and twenty two, one-hundred and twenty three… I think I'm finished," Kristoph said, as he got up.

"Mr. Gavin," one of the officers stepped forward, "You are under arrest for suspect of vampirism."

As he was handcuffed, Kristoph stepped backwards and went, "Wright, I have to admit, you are great at this job, again."

"Oh? And what job do you mean?"

Kristoph smiled, showing a little hint of his fangs; his eyes glowed as the color of his body slowly faded, and he became wind; his clothes, hid body, his soul, all of those were mere air to be breathed, as he said: "Failing."

And so the wind took him away, laughing.

Laughing like a scientist finding out his creation works. Like a politician who just lied himself to victory. Like the rabbit who just surpassed the tortoise.

And the creation, the ballot loser, the tortoise?