In the chilly evening, with both the moons out and shining, a boy lay on the cold cobblestones of the narrow alley, in the imperial capital, just a few distance away from the Imperial Knights' Academy.
His uniform was torn apart with visible wounds, blood coming out of them, drenching his body completely.
Near him lay another girl of the same situation, except her situation was not that much worse as compared to the boy, and the major deep wound on her shoulder was already wrapped up by a piece of cloth, which had stopped the bleeding.
"Well, this is pretty serious...", said a girl standing near them.
More precisely, she was the student council president of the prestigious academy, Alicia Rowan.
Apart from her, there stood four other students, seemingly first year students.
One of the students, a boy with an overly confident stance and a bit too much curiosity, glanced between the unconscious pair and muttered, "Looks like Dorian Valen's handiwork to me…"
Another girl chimed in, arms folded. "Given his reputation, I wouldn't be surprised."
"Two students fighting among each other outside the academy isn't unheard of,.... but on the first day of your first year itself?", Alicia said while observing the surroundings.
Then she looked at the group of first years, and spoke up.
"Aren't you guys a bit too bold?", she asked sarcastically, while assessing the situation.
"President, you might not know, but this Dorian Valen has a reputation for picking up fights with others unnecessarily. I believe he instigated this scene too.", one boy with the glasses said.
"That's right, president. Moreover, I don't think Laurel is the type to fight with others.", another girl joined in.
"Hmmm...Laurel Barriston. The daughter of Duke Barriston. So, this is the one.", Alicia muttered to herself, looking closely at the girl lying on the ground.
"Well, even if from investigation he is found innocent, the Duke won't spare him.", she said, with an exasperated tone.
Duke Barriston is a well known name in the Imperial Capital.
Controlling all the merchants' guild in the empire, he has become the most powerful noble in the capital, only second to the Royal family.
By nature, he is arrogant, and egotistic, and doesn't respect anyone below him in power.
Moreover, he loves his family, especially his only daughter, Laurel Barriston, so much.
It was clear that he wouldn't spare anyone, whoever dares to lay their hands on his daughter.
"Tristan, call the City Guards and entail them about everything we found on the crime scene. As this happened outside the academy, it doesn't fall under our jurisdiction anymore.", Alicia instructed the boy with the glasses.
"Understood.", he bowed and left the scene.
"The rest of you remain here until the City Guards arrive. I have some other chores to take care of.", she said to the remaining first years and left.
***
An old, broken down warehouse, on the outskirts of the imperial capital.
Rust and dampness all around.
Two moons glowed faintly, their light barely reaching through the cracked windows.
A group of people stood in a circle, wrapped in dark cloaks, their faces hidden.
Among them was the man who attacked Laurel and Dorian.
A fresh wound on his forehead still bled.
He was nervous, like everyone else.
The warehouse was quiet, except for a faint drip of water. Everyone kept their heads down, waiting.
Even the man, rumored to be a vampire, looked scared.
Then, they heard boots tapping on the floor.
The sound was slow and steady, getting louder. Everyone froze, their hearts racing.
A man stepped out of the shadows.
He wore a big hat and a fancy coat, looking out of place in the dirty warehouse.
He walked to an old, rickety chair and sat down like it was a throne. He took off his hat, showing a pale face and bright blue eyes that seemed to glow.
He looked at the group and pointed at one cloaked figure. "You," he said, his voice sharp.
A strange force pulled the cloaked person forward.
With a quick move, he tore off their cloak.
It was a woman, shaking with fear, her eyes on the ground, completely naked.
She stood bare in front of everyone, trembling.
The man stood up. "Kneel," he said coldly. She hesitated but obeyed, too scared to resist. The others stood still, watching in silence.
They all knew what the man wanted.
So did the woman, as she gently took off his pants, and revealed his large black cock in front of everyone.
"Suck.", he said with a voice so commanding that she couldn't do otherwise.
The woman did what he wanted, her hands shaking, trying to please him to avoid his anger.
The others remained silent, with their heads down, as they could only hear the sound of the woman sucking.
She used all she had learned in her lifetime, to please the man in front of her, cause she knew the consequences of his anger.
After a few minutes, he told her to stand. "Turn around," he said.
She did, still shaking.
He moved closer, held her hips, and thrust his black sword into her hole so fast that her moan reverberated all around the warehouse.
"Aaaaaaaanngh............."
Then he didn't stop, he moved like an animal devouring it's prey.
The woman's gasps filled the quiet warehouse as he took control, moving her from the chair to the floor, among the others who stood frozen.
The cloaked figures didn't move or speak.
It was like the man was the master of all of these people, more like his play thing.
He fucked the woman so brutally that drops of blood started falling from her private parts.
Her moans converted to screams as he continued thrusting.
And, after almost two whole hours, ...........
Finally, he stopped.
The woman fell to the ground, exhausted, and almost on the brink of death.
She reached for her cloak to cover her body as much as she could.
The others sighed, hoping his anger was gone.
But then, the man's hand moved fast, claws flashing.
He struck her stomach, and she collapsed, dead, her blood spilling on the floor.
Splash!
All of her insides were out.
Her intestines fell, spilling blood all around the floor and the chair, and on the rest of them waiting in silence.
It happened so fast, that they were too stunned to speak.
The vampire with the wounded forehead shook, his confidence gone.
The cloaked figures stood frozen, terrified of what would happen next.
Then the man stood up on the chair, with his black short sword on display, and addressed them in a brutal tone.
"It's time, you fucking cunts."
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Author's Note :
Please comment down on whatever you think of the story.
From next chapter onwards, this types of scenes will be frequent, but with the plot as the main focus, because things are going to get crazier.
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