Marvel: Scientist reborn as Superman

I forced myself to calm down and start thinking about what to do next. My main mistake was that I misjudged my own strength and, instead of simply knocking the vampire unconscious, I literally turned him into a bloody mess smeared across the floor. I had been distracted for a second, and the result was far more dramatic than I had planned. Now I had to decide how to cover my tracks and avoid getting myself into even more trouble.

"He's pretty weak," I chuckled, looking at the remains of the bloodsucker. "I just wanted to knock him out, but he just collapsed. Maybe he was sick or something? Do vampires get sick?" I asked Blade, trying to sound as calm as possible, even though adrenaline was still rushing through my veins.

He was silent for a few seconds, looking at me as if he didn't know how to respond to such a question. Finally, he said:

"I've been hunting these creatures for years, but I've never seen any of them sick. If they get sick, it's only from overeating." He allowed himself a slight smile, but his voice remained low and sombre.

I nodded, glancing around the room, which was splattered with blood, and frowned:

"I see. Well, in any case, we need to clean this up before Lily wakes up. Otherwise, she'll have too many questions."

The half-vamp grunted and pulled out something that looked like a flashlight. I raised my eyebrows in surprise:

"Seriously? A flashlight? You think that's going to solve our problem?

"You obviously haven't watched enough vampire movies," he smirked. "Remember what ultraviolet light does to them?

Without waiting for an answer, Blade pressed the button, and a sharp, bright beam began to vaporise the ghoul's remains. Right before our eyes, parts of the vampire were covered with a smoking crust, turning into grey ash and leaving only black soot stains on the floor and walls. The air began to smell of burning, making me want to throw open the window immediately.

"Damn..." I muttered, watching the body disappear as if it had never been there. "It feels like I've fallen into some kind of ridiculous nightmare.

"You should wash your hands," Blade glanced at me. "If ultraviolet light hits the vampire blood that may remain on your skin, you could get burned."

"I'll be fine, keep shining," I waved my hand, trying not to show that I was still tense inside. 

Blade silently continued to search the room. The harsh glow of the torch danced across the walls, passing over the broken furniture, devouring every trace of the bloodsucker's presence. When he was done, I rushed to the window and threw it open, letting in a rush of fresh air. The smell of burnt flesh filling the room made my head spin.

Then I headed for Lily. She was lying on the floor, curled up in a ball with her eyes closed, but, as I suspected, she was unconscious. On closer inspection, it appeared that she had simply passed out from fear and shock.

"My name is Eric, by the way," Blade said behind me, breaking the brief silence.

I cautiously turned to him. Lillian clearly needed help, but before doing anything, I had to figure out how much I could trust this stranger.

"Bruce," I introduced myself, extending my hand. "Nice to meet you, although I can't say it's under pleasant circumstances."

We shook hands. Blade apparently wanted to test my strength, squeezing my hand a little harder than is customary in a normal greeting. But I didn't feel any discomfort and increased the pressure myself. I felt the bones in his hand crunch discontentedly.

"Okay, that's enough," he said, raising his other hand in a conciliatory gesture. "I see you've got strong nerves and considerable strength.

I unclenched my fingers and nodded to him:

"Can you explain what's going on here? Where did these creatures come from in our city?

Eric's face became stony: all emotion disappeared, his gaze darkened. "I'm not sure you need to know that," he began cautiously, looking at me appraisingly. Apparently, he was wondering whether to let me in on the details of the hunt.

"Listen," I said quietly but insistently, "I seem to be in this up to my neck, so it can't get any worse. And, as you've probably noticed, I'm not easily offended. So come on, tell me."

Eric sighed heavily, like a man who was tired of everything. He ran his hand over the back of his head, then spoke: "Police reports told of a series of brutal murders. The bodies were found drained of blood, and I suspected something was wrong. I came to check it out, and it looks like I was right: you've got a nest of wild vampires here," he lowered his voice, as if afraid we might be overheard. "True, you just cut off my only lead by killing that ghoul. I would have liked to question him thoroughly..."

"Sorry," I shrugged, trying to hide my irony. "It's not every day you find out that vampires really exist and want to feast on your girlfriend. I couldn't help myself."

"I'm not complaining," Blade replied, relaxing his tight lips slightly. "They can lie low for a while, now that we've identified and eliminated one of them. But the thirst for blood is relentless, so those bastards won't stay hidden for long. We'll have to stay in your town and wait for them to come out hunting again."

I nodded, trying to clarify the conversation:

"How am I supposed to know what a 'wild vampire' is?" I asked, feeling that there was a gap in my knowledge of vampires. 

Blade frowned, as if considering where to begin his explanation. His voice sounded low and dry:

"Vampires have a strict hierarchy. They unite in clans, form so-called nests, and obey unspoken laws that govern their lives in this world. Imagine that they have their own 'family', their own 'home' and their own 'rules': this includes hunting, dividing up territory and ways of avoiding human attention. Such communities strictly control the behaviour of their members: if someone starts to attract too much unwanted attention, the 'elders' usually come to put a stop to any actions that could jeopardise the others.

He paused briefly, as if to check that I was following, and continued:

"But not all vampires fit into this system. Some appear outside the clans for various reasons. Such individuals do not obey any codes, do not pay tribute or 'taxes' to their clan, do not report their own killings, and do not care about preserving the secret of the vampires' existence. They are called 'wild'. Essentially, they are gangs or loners who do not recognise the authority of their elders. No one watches over them, no one "cleans up" after them, which means they can leave a bloody mess behind and ultimately attract unwanted attention from humans. If they are spotted by a clan member, they are "cleaned up" to maintain the overall balance.

"So they're basically outcasts." I frowned, wondering how many such creatures might be roaming our city. "And you want to hunt them all down, every last one?"

Blade nodded:

"Something like that. Well, now that we're done here, I'll be going. There's nothing more for me to do here..." He turned to leave.

I paused for a moment, feeling somewhat excited at the thought that I had a chance to team up with a professional bloodsucker hunter and rid the city of danger.

"Wait," I called after him before he reached the door. "Maybe I can be of use to you? I don't want these monsters in my city. And besides, you saw for yourself, I have some abilities..."

Stopping in the doorway, Eric turned around:

"Are you sure you want to do this, kid? These creatures don't give second chances. One mistake and you'll be their next victim."

I smiled:

"Don't worry. I don't think some fanged creatures can do me any serious harm. Well, at least I intend to stop them from doing so.

Blade raised an eyebrow, considering my confidence:

"All right, it's your call. I'm staying at a motel at the entrance to town, room 211. If you decide you really want to help, come by during the day. I could use a local guide, though.

"Understood," I replied. "You can count on me."

He nodded, walked out the door and disappeared immediately. It all happened so fast that it seemed as if he had never been there. I was left alone with Lily, who was still lying unconscious on the floor. I had to decide quickly what to do without giving myself away. But I didn't want to leave her in that room like that.

"Sorry, friend, but you'll have to stay here a little longer while I cover my tracks," I thought, figuring out what to do. Leaning over Lily, I made sure she was breathing evenly and carefully laid her down more comfortably, away from the soot stains.

Satisfied that she was safe, I turned on my speed and in a matter of seconds ran out of the school, heading back to the stadium. My whole short adventure took no more than twenty minutes, so no one was likely to have noticed my absence. I slowed down in a dark corner under the stands, and from there I walked at a normal pace to look for Ethan.

Ethan caught up with me near the changing rooms, out of breath, his eyes darting around in confusion:

"Bruce! I... I searched everywhere! The food court, the changing rooms, even the showers. Lily's nowhere to be found. Where could she have gone?

Pretending to be worried, I frowned:

"I checked the stands and looked everywhere down there. Nothing... Maybe she went back to school? You know she sometimes leaves her things in the school newspaper room. 

"Right! How could I not think of that?" Ethan clapped his hands. "Let's run there, maybe she really is there."

Without hesitation, we ran towards the school building. Ethan rushed into the journalism room first and froze in the doorway:

"What happened here?" he managed to say, looking around the dark room, which still smelled faintly of smoke and was littered with debris.

Then he noticed Lily lying on the floor. Ethan's face turned pale and his lips trembled.

"Bruce..." he whispered, unable to take his eyes off his friend. "Is she alive? Is she okay?"

I pushed my friend away and went over to the girl.

"Calm down, she's alive. She just seems to have lost consciousness. Run and get some adults, call an ambulance!

Ethan froze, paralysed, and I raised my voice:

"What are you doing? Run, Ethan! I'll stay with her.

Finally, he came to his senses:

"Yes, yes, I understand!" My friend's voice broke, and he rushed out into the corridor.

Taking advantage of the moment, I carefully lifted Lily and laid her on a small sofa in the corner of the room. I tried to call her quietly:

"Lilian... Hey, it's me, Bruce... Can you hear me?"

She didn't answer: her breathing remained steady, but her eyes were closed. It seemed as if she was somewhere deep inside her own consciousness, escaping the shock. I sat down on the floor next to the sofa and waited.

Soon, I heard the sound of several pairs of feet: Ethan had returned with Coach Murphy, the headmaster, and the medical staff who were always on duty at matches. The doctor and nurse immediately pushed me aside and bent over Lily. The coach and headmaster, noticing the mess in the office, frowned and began to discuss something quietly among themselves. One of the teachers ran to call the police, while Ethan and I stood against the wall, silently watching the commotion.

Lily was carefully lifted onto a stretcher and carried to the ambulance. The doctor noted that there were no injuries on her body and that her condition resembled fainting from severe fear or overexertion. He said he wasn't going to revive her right away: it would be better to do that at the hospital, where they had everything they needed, including a psychologist. The girl was taken away, and the headmaster told Ethan and me to stay where we were and wait for the police to arrive.

The police arrived almost immediately after the ambulance. Listening to Ethan and me recount the events, they suggested that we had probably scared the criminal away and that he had escaped through the window. The second floor is not very high, and there is a ledge below, so it is quite possible to climb down. They added that we might be needed later to give a statement and told us not to leave the city and to stay in touch. After filling out all the paperwork, they let us go home. 

A little later, my father picked me up in his car. I sat in the back seat, staring out the window and wondering how to untangle this strange story. Bloodthirsty vampires had appeared in my town and were threatening its inhabitants. Blade... He also raises a lot of questions. And now I wanted only one thing — to go to him and arrange a joint hunt for these "wild" monsters. After all, I couldn't live in peace knowing that someone could attack my friends and loved ones at night.

"I must visit this half-vampire as soon as possible," I thought, glancing at the streetlights outside the window. "Find out more, find out everything. And finally put an end to these creatures..."

*****

I arrived at the motel Blade had told me about. The place looked gloomy and run-down: the paint on the walls was peeling, the courtyard was a sun-scorched wasteland, and a neon sign that had long since lost its brightness flickered above the entrance. The sound of cars passing in the distance was muffled, as if coming from some distant, unknown world.

I cautiously approached the door to his room. The quiet corridor smelled of stale dampness and the sharp smell of cheap air freshener, which only emphasised the shabbiness of the walls. Crouching down, I listened: my hypersensitive ears picked up two heartbeats inside. One beat steadily and rhythmically, while the other beat at an unusual pace, only beating once every thirty seconds or so. "There it is, the dhampir pulse," I thought. Blade really does have an unusual physiology. But who was the second person? It seemed to me that he always acted alone, not inclined to trust strangers. This was alarming, but at the same time it fuelled my curiosity.

"Stop thinking," I told myself. "It's time to find out what's going on." I knocked quietly on the door. A ringing silence immediately fell inside, and I could sense both hearts freeze for a moment before beating faster. I heard a barely audible click: Blade raised his gun and, judging by the characteristic sound, loaded a bullet into the barrel. Such precautions were probably typical of a hunter, but they made me sigh heavily: all the silent tension around me was so palpable that I felt uneasy.

I knocked louder and raised my voice: "Blade, come on, it's me, Bruce! Have you forgotten that you invited me yourself?"

There was silence behind the door for a second or two, then I heard the dampir mutter something under his breath. He was obviously angry, but immediately began to unload his gun, removing the cartridge from the chamber. Quick, almost silent footsteps approached the door, and a moment later it swung open. Blade stood in the doorway, looking at me sullenly and unwelcomingly, as if I had shown up uninvited.

I held out my hand to him: "Don't be afraid, I won't squeeze you like last time. I promise to be more careful. Let's shake on it," I smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

He silently shook my hand, flinching for a split second, as if remembering how strong my grip could be. We entered the dimly lit room, the air heavy with the smell of old wallpaper mixed with the same air freshener from the hallway. Blade sat down on the edge of the bed, his tense gaze fixed on me.

"So what brought you here, Bruce?" he finally asked, his voice harsh, almost emotionless, although I sensed a slight uneasiness in his words.

I just shrugged vaguely and began to look around the room. Shabby wallpaper, worn linoleum, a modest bedside table and a wardrobe. But my attention was drawn to the closed door leading to the bathroom.

"Where's your guest?" I replied. "I clearly heard a second person. Who's here with you?"

Instead of answering, Blade grinned crookedly: "Abraham, come out. Our friend is much more curious than I expected."

I heard the door creak, and I saw an elderly man emerge from the bathroom: a colourful old man in a leather waistcoat, with a grey beard and a shotgun slung over his shoulder. He smiled at me, and there was something both good-natured and dangerous about that smile.

"Look, we have guests," he grumbled in a hoarse but friendly voice. "Sorry, I was stuck in the bathroom. Age is catching up with me."

I raised an eyebrow: "And you always take your shotgun with you to the toilet?"

The old man laughed briefly and hoarsely: "Of course, lad! Dying on the toilet isn't the best fate for a hunter. Can you imagine what a disgrace that would be? And what kind of memories I'd leave my friends with? So it's better to be safe than sorry."

His face suddenly became serious, and, glancing at Blade, he said, "Eric, I think you can go about your business for now. I'll talk to our guest, he's quite harmless. At least to me."

Blade frowned, glancing at the old man with a sullen look: "Are you sure you don't need me here? We don't even know who he is or what he's capable of."

I crossed my arms over my chest: "Hey, I'm in this room too, stop talking like I'm not here." I protested.

The old man turned to me with a calm smile: "You're right. Forgive my rudeness, young man. I just need to convince this slow-witted fellow that you're no threat to me. In my long life, I've learned to tell friend from foe in a heartbeat. So go on, Eric, I'm fine." 

Blade was clearly in no hurry to agree, but he stood up, took his black cloak from the hook and, without saying another word, left, slamming the door loudly behind him.

I sighed as I watched him go: "Is he really offended?"The old man shrugged: "Eric is a strong warrior. But he's spent his whole life hunting and fighting, so he's not very sociable. Sometimes he acts like a child," Abraham smiled. "Come on, let's leave him alone and get down to business. Why are you here?"

I looked at the dirty window, behind which the multicoloured lights of the night city flickered dimly. I loved those neon glints; even in a place like this, they looked almost romantic.

"My family is in this city, and so are my friends. And one of them was badly hurt by blood-sucking creatures. I'm not going to sit idly by. I want to protect my loved ones and make sure this never happens again. And at the same time, I want to avenge everything they've done," my words sounded harsh, even to me.

Abraham frowned: "Revenge is a dangerous thing, son. The scars it leaves can torment you for the rest of your life, and sometimes even after death, if you believe the legends. Are you really sure you're ready to kill?"

I nodded, trying to keep my voice steady: "If the lives of my family and friends are at stake, my hand will not tremble."

The old man sighed and looked at me with sad respect: "Until we know exactly where their nest is, Blade is trying to get information. I'm old, I've already retired from active duty, but I came when I heard about the new clashes with the vampires. Someone has to cover for Eric if things go wrong.

I listened carefully and, squinting, asked, "In that case, tell me everything you can. Who are they really? How does their world work? I want to understand what I'm getting myself into. Maybe I can help you."

Abraham shook his head, as if surprised by my insistence: "What, have you decided to become a hunter?"

A smile appeared on my face: "Well, let's say I want to become a part-time hunter. I have no illusions about who I'm dealing with. Vampires are predators, killers. And if I can contribute to their destruction, why not?"

The old man narrowed his eyes, as if checking whether I was really ready for this: "All right. I like your fighting spirit. Then sit down comfortably, son, and get ready to listen. The story will be long and, in places, quite gruesome."

He leaned back in his creaky chair and, twirling the shotgun in his hands, began to speak earnestly and in detail, as if immersing himself in distant memories:

"Vampires are an ancient tribe, dating back to the time of Atlantis, the legendary civilisation that, according to legend, was swallowed by the ocean. Their birth is closely linked to the magic of the demon Chthon and, in particular, to the cursed pages of the book Darkhold. 

These pages are said to contain the most sinister spells ever known to man. It was there that the formula was recorded that turned the first humans — or rather, non-humans — into vampires. Rumour has it that a certain Varnae, one of the surviving Atlanteans, studied the knowledge of the Darkhold and, thirsting for immortality, turned dark magic against his own flesh. Thus appeared the first vampire, imbued with all its destructive power. Varnae could not keep this curse to himself: he passed it on to others, creating a new race capable of feeding exclusively on the blood of living beings. 

Over time, vampirism spread throughout the world, moving with migrations and wars. But its most sinister and famous representative was, of course, Vlad Tepes, known as Count Dracula. He inherited all of Varnae's power and was the chief vampire for centuries, managing to subjugate entire clans from all over the world. Despite being defeated many times by hunters, Dracula always came back to life because he possessed not only natural vampire abilities but also extensive knowledge of magic. 

Today, he is rightly considered the "Lord of Vampires," although he has many rivals and even his own children, to whom he passed on his blood. Such as Lilith, Janus, and Xarus — all of them are deeply connected to his lineage and magical traditions, but each of them strives for their own power. Thus, clans and factions arise within the vampire world. 

Some adhere to the ancient customs of Dracula, while others are fascinated by technology and seek to use scientific advances to their advantage, creating a network that spans the globe. But no matter how different vampires may be, they all recognise the power of blood and acknowledge the authority of their ancestors, who maintain order in this dark society. 

Immortality is not just a word for them, but a life that stretches for centuries. They possess superhuman reflexes, speed, and strength, and their bodies regenerate hundreds of times faster than humans. 

However, these creatures are not all-powerful. Sunlight kills most of them, at least unless they resort to cunning devices or rituals that are only rumoured to exist. Silver, aspen stakes, and even holy symbols can harm them, especially if backed by sincere faith. However, even here, things are not so clear-cut: the more powerful the vampire, the harder it is to destroy them and the better they are at circumventing traditional weaknesses. 

The transformation of a human into a vampire usually occurs through a bite and direct exchange of blood. To be reborn, you need to lose enough of your own blood and drink the cursed blood of a vampire. This changes the nature of the creature not only physically, but also magically, instilling in it a thirst for the life of others. I have heard many stories about various rituals that are supposed to cure vampirism, but none of us hunters have ever seen anything like that. It is difficult to say whether it is myth or reality. And so, for centuries, we hunters have been waging an endless and exhausting war against these monsters, trying to protect the world from them. Ordinary people often have no idea how serious it is, and perhaps it's better that way. They live in their homes, go to work, raise their children, while night predators roam around them. 

Of course, it takes a lot of effort and time to prevent vampires from taking over humanity. But with each passing century, they become more cunning, and the older ones, like Dracula, weave the darkest magic, contained in artefacts and ancient rituals, into their power. That's why every new battle with them turns into a deadly and unpredictable fight.

Abraham paused for a moment, as if checking that I understood everything. There were too many questions spinning around in my head. I had known about the existence of vampires for a long time, but I had no idea of the scale and depth of their history. The thought that they could wield magic frightened me the most. I didn't know how I would react to magic.

The old man spoke again, frowning his grey eyebrows: "So, lad, if you value your life, you'd better stay away from all this carnage. We hunters have our methods and knowledge accumulated over thousands of years. But even we have to leave the battlefield wounded. Many of my friends died before they could grow a grey beard like mine. Dracula and his pack are no joke.

He began to cough, his voice became intermittent, his eyes watered slightly, and he gestured for water. I managed to dart over so quickly that the rickety chair creaked from the sudden draught. A split second later, I returned with the bottle. Abraham took it, fumbled in his pocket, found some kind of pill, and washed it down with large gulps.

"Damn," he muttered, breathing heavily, "I'm not used to talking so much anymore. In the old days, I could preach for hours about the nature of vampires, but now..." He smiled, and that smile revealed his long-standing bitterness. "So, lad, don't be too quick to make big statements. Let Blade find their nest, he knows how to deal with them. And you think twice before rushing headlong into hell."

I shook my head and looked at the plastic bottle in his hands: "By the way, take a look at the label. This is water from New York, and it's a specific brand that's unlikely to be sold anywhere nearby. I ran there and back in a matter of seconds, you didn't even notice. You see, I have something to counter the bloodsuckers.

Abraham frowned suspiciously, looking first at the bottle, then at me. I saw understanding slowly dawn in his eyes: "So you're a mutant? Eric mentioned your abilities, but I didn't expect anything so impressive." He paused, weighing something important in his mind. "All right, Bruce. Hunters always appreciate strong allies. Give me your phone number in case any news comes up. Now you'd better get home. It's past midnight, and old men like me should be in bed long ago."

I nodded, exchanged contact details with him and was about to leave, but paused for a moment at the door: "Thank you, Abraham. I have a lot of questions, but not today. My brain is already exploding. I'd love to talk to you again."

The old man smiled slightly: "Come by, I'll be happy to help. And us hunters can always use some fresh blood. Maybe you'll become one of us." 

I waved goodbye and disappeared. In a matter of seconds, the familiar motel scene dissolved, giving way to a blurry image, and a second later I was home, in my own room. Everything around me seemed strangely familiar and at the same time alien after what I had learned. Glancing at the new alarm clock on the bedside table, I exhaled heavily and collapsed onto the bed. My head was buzzing, my thoughts racing like an express train. But fatigue got the better of me, and I allowed myself to relax.

"I need to think this through, and I could use some sleep," I thought, feeling my eyelids grow heavy. The events of the previous evening swirled in my mind like vague echoes of a bad dream. But I was so tired that I couldn't sleep.

Today, I simply closed my eyes in exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep.

***

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