Vampire in DC

The fourth chapter however, has everything to do with fearing the reader's reaction.

Just remember, a dead hammy cannot post chappies.

I TOLD YOU TO PUT THE KNIFE DOWN, BILLY!!!

...

"What is a man? A miserable little pile of secrets" - Dracula.

… … … … … … …

Warehouses were such a lovely thing.

Always abundant, empty of human presence and ready to accommodate the needy crime rings, novice superhumans looking to test their power and all sorts of freaky, dangerous and very much illegal shenanigans that filled the more fantastic worlds.

Need to set up a trap to eliminate that very handsome, extremely intelligent, not quite modest but oh so whelmingly powerful monster of man? Go check out a warehouse.

Need a meeting place to exchange millions of dollars for some extra-terrestrial weaponry? Sure as hell gotta happen in the warehouse.

Need to see how far your new vampiric powers can take you? You bet there's an empty warehouse for that!

"Alright boss, I'm ready when you are!" Bubbles said, currently dressed in a tracksuit that made him look like an Albanian gangster with a bit too much melanin.

"Three...Two...one..." John Harker, who preferred wearing his usual black and grey clothes that helped him blend in the dark, said while holding a stopwatch, "Go!"

Reginald started running as fast as he could, his form a bit amateurish and tarnished by years spent on the streets, but that same experience running like a crackhead did wonders for his time.

That, and the magical blood he gave him every month.

Mostly the magic blood.

As soon as he reached a chalked up line, John stopped the watch and wrote the time down.

"14 seconds, not bad at all." John whistled in approval, that was a pretty good number.

Batman was supposed to do it in nine seconds, moving at a whopping eleven meters per second, fast enough to put fear into a criminal's heart.

However, that was fictional data, thinking that the rumblings of bored keyboard warriors was gospel would probably lead John to his final death.

"Niiiice," The man didn't even sweat as he came back in a light jog, "Your turn boss, pass me the watch."

And so he did, put himself into position and waited for the countdown.

"3…"

Using the bloodbuff wasn't required, since he wanted to know his base speed as a neonate vampire, someone with a hundred years of blood potency running through his veins.

"...2…"

Though using it would show how far he could take the force multiplier, and his reserves would barely take a hit, 3000 blood points was a whole lot of power.

"3...Go!"

In the blink of an eye, he was already there, if not for Reginald's own enhanced reflexes he wouldn't even be able to stop the timer at the right moment.

"Dag...a bit over 4 seconds, bossman, I'm pretty sure that's some sort of record!" Reginald shouted in excitement, forgetting that he was talking to a vampire.

'A record? We're in a world where Barry Allen could run with a negative timer, fat chance of that happening.' He shook his head, still a bit worried about how insane things are in this new world of his.

He could torment drug dealers all night long, but what could he do if someone like Flash or even worse, Zoom decided to mess with him?

What if he got masturbated at the speed of light every time he touched a woman? That's gay as heck!

His undead weiner would also probably fall off…

He shivered at the thought, but continued this little workout to forget it.

Lifting steel beams was easy as it goes, even lifting a 2 tons car only took some effort, he would probably be able to lift up to a good 10 tons without using his bloodbuff.

"Can I test my striking strength on you?" He asked his faithfully ghoul, who then looked at him as if he was a very special little boy, but that was probably John's imagination.

"No way in hell." Reginald answered.

"Okay, okay…" John chuckled, "Wanna shoot me?"

"Boss, are you insane?"

"No more than usual."

Well, at least he tried.

He knew he could take low calibre bullets without much difficulty, and even assault rifles needed some time before they could do any meaningful damage to his body.

Damage that his regeneration could fix almost instantly, as long as he had enough blood in reserve.

As for his own attacks, his untrained punches easily tore his enemies flesh and broke their bones even when he held back, more than once did he shatter a wall to make an entrance to terrify an unlucky drug dealer.

All in the name of justice…and aggressive capitalism. 

His biggest weakness was his lack of proper fighting skills, utter absence of experience outside a few brawls in his world, anything here was so easy it was more a creative process than any sort of combat.

Of course, that was only because his foes were all ordinary humans or street level enemies at best. In other words, canon fodder.

Copperhead was the only exception, but even then, the matchup was utterly horrendous for her.

Putting an assassin who relied on dealing a few poisonous strikes or choking her opponent to death against the one guy who was too dead to get poisoned or need to breathe.

That was hardly fair.

With a few interesting thoughts in mind, John and his ghoul went their separate ways, the latter given the grim task of dealing with his master's paperwork.

A painful fate indeed.

The vampire had better things to do, like finishing today's experiment by finding a few guinea pigs—volunteer test subjects who either didn't mind getting some heavy and pretty destructive amounts of presence and dominate thrown at them, or were too terrified to oppose him.

Maybe play around with that low level blood manipulation if possible?

A few hours and many inflicted physical and emotional traumas later, John was finally satisfied.

All for the sake of science.

His presence was still limited to aweing, terrifying or calming those who felt it, but the amount of people he could target rose from a single person to a small crowd, without requiring more blood or attention than usual.

His dominate ability also saw some change, now allowing him to cloud the memory of his target and make them forget the last few minutes.

'The power of an ugly bastard,' He noted, somehow feeling that many a pervert wept at the unfairness of the world.

'Why do I have a rapist's skillset?' He couldn't help but wonder.

Such abilities truly were wasted on him, a true degenerate from his world could probably dominate the planet—not the whole universe with only these two powers.

He might also get decapitated by Wonder Woman because he thought that hentai logic was applicable here, but some would consider it a sacrifice worth making.

Regardless of John's unwanted similarities with Gilderoy Lockhart, said improvements were still useful, allowing him to be a bit bolder without fearing for his identity to be revealed before he was ready to bend the life over and shove the vampiric lemons up its arse. 

A time that was coming ever closer.

For he was growing stronger, one night at a time…