The moon overhead touches the shoulders of the hunter and the hunted as they embark in a game thousands of years older than the age of their mastermind. So natural the game of life and death is exchanged through the players' hands. The chase, furious in vigor tears through the woodlands like a midnight storm through the weakened skies. The Fates have already picked their winner and loser, both now struggle to be enlightened themselves.

"Hey Sinister, this bitch ain't no werewolf!" Blade shouted into his communicator between deep exhales as he gave chase to his quarry.

"Of course it is. A Wendigo is a werewolf, that is the term used by Canadians," Sinister explained.

"I've seen the movies, man, this ain't no werewolf! More like a Bigfoot or something," Blade replied.

The big sterling silver beast in front of him veered right into a plot of black branches, splitting through them with ease. Blade turned as well, giving chase. He tore through the branches like black furred arms, slapping and clawing his exposed skin as he stalked the creature. The creature had hoped to lose the small pest it had picked up ten miles back, by dodging into the nighttime shadows.

It is hard to lose a vampire in the dark however, and Blade followed it, never losing sight of the mangy behemoth of whom he was at tow. If somehow the night were able to discourage Blade's sight in tracking, he could rely on the lofty scents thrown about by the putrid beast and the large footprints encased into the wet and impressionable mud. As a vote of confidence and reassurance Blade threw a stare down to the ground, to check for prints, footprints that were…gone. They had disappeared, and Blade had taken his eyes of the wendigo.

"Hey, you there Sinister?" Blade shouted after his hidden blackmailer, who was miles away.

"Yes Blade, what troubles you?" Sinister's crackled and interrupted voice replied through the communicator.

"Well 'Boss' I lost the damned thing," Blade reported.

"I expected failure. Return to my side, we will have you out another night," Sinister conceded.

The silver edge of the Full Tang sword sat in Blade's palm reflecting the moonlight into his ebony face. He stared into the reflection, first because he dipped his head to skulk before he returned the blade to the sheath and second because he thought he saw the pristine reflection get interrupted, like something had passed by above him. Like a shadow sweeping through the streaming light of the moon, he swore the blade had been tainted by the presence of another. His first instinct was a vampire. It had easily moved quickly enough to be a vampire.

Blade stood there moments longer, his senses alerted, the hair on his arms and full attention and his muscles braced for an ambush. He had been thrown amiss in his chase and now was an opportune point for attack. Any hunter or animal would be a fool not to use it, including whatever he was tracking.

"Okay you shit. Make your move or else I make mine," Blade spoke aloud to the unseen enemy he knew was there.

He had just picked up the scent, it was the werewolf, the wendigo. He was back, and angry, the adrenaline levels were abnormally heightened and flooding the air. It no longer wanted to be the prey, but the hunter, now that the advantage was it's to have.

A thick and deafening roar disrupted the calm chatter of starlings, which was soon followed up by the thunder of snapping branches as the large wendigo dropped from the canopy of trees at Blade. He picked up the sounds as they started giving him an advantage and time to adjust to the attack. He dropped his sword to free up his hand and rolled to his back. The white flash of fur descending from the sky fell upon him with a heavy blow. He absorbed the fall with his legs and grabbed the mane of the creature at each side of the beast's frothing and putrid maw. The wendigo was a heavy load, much too heavy for any living human but with Blade's vampire induced bestial strength, he struggled against the mass, using his legs and biceps to overpower the creature, rolling the weight to the ground behind his shoulders.

Blade rolled off his back to his feet in a quick and nimble gesture. The wendigo was face first in the mess of mud and nettles, large rushes of hot air blew the ground shrubbery aside as the giant creature lunged to its feet.

Wendigo angry! Wendigo will kill!

"Oh? What's this motherfucker? The werewolf reject speaks, and in my head too?" Blade replied to the telepathic voice in his skull.

Wendigo is no wolf! Wendigo is curse!

"Yeah, tell Sinister that. Oh, and stay the fuck out of my head!" Blade yelled.

Wendigo had now had enough chatter and was ready to exchange blows once more. He charged Blade, placing a large clawed paw against Blade's shoulder and closed his hand in attempt of a fist. The inch long claws buried into the easily penetrated flesh of Blade's nape. He writhed in pain as four streams of blood crept down his back from the punctures. The pain from the violation coursed through his shuddering skin.

The giant furred creature, the Wendigo unrolled a damp purple tongue from his imposing jaws and rows of dagger-like teeth. With his tongue, he swept across Blade's forehead, sampling the flavor. He then put himself in position for the fatal blow. He placed his other paw across Blade's jaw, tickling his cheek with a free finger and claw, ravishing the soft flesh and freeing streams of blood. It was a fatal mistake.

While Wendigo's teeth were menacing, Blade owned a fearful set of fangs as well. As Wendigo's fingers wriggled about freely, Blade cracked his jaw open in the tight grip and cracked them again, this time closed on the meaty flesh of a white furred index.

Wendigo became afflicted by the horrid prick and released his grasp of the vampire hunter in his hold. He doubled back, grabbing for his pained hand like a young child. This gave Blade his moment to strike. He fiercely jabbed at the dwarfing creature with a sharp kick to the chest, his brutish strength helping to force the beast away, long enough for him to roll backwards to his knees and retrieve his sword.

"Looks to me like your screwed. It's been fun, but you aren't my bag and I'm tired of this shit," Blade taunted, while setting into a Chudan no Kamae stance.

This put the length of his Full Tang blade between him and the heaving chest Wendigo. As if it had conceded the battle, the Wendigo stood unmoving, his eyes full of want and his soul begging for release. Blade dove at the creature, slamming the palm of his right hand to the handle of the sword in his left. The sword in one simple lunge, rocketed into the center mass of the creature, expelling a wealth of rich crimson blood into the forest and dealing the fatal blow.

"I killed him," Blade reported, tossing a set of five teeth onto the large, sprawling marble table set before him.

The teeth rolled and clattered down the cold marble surface where the waiting hands of Nathaniel Essex, Sinister, rested. Sinister lifted his fingers allowing the ivory fangs to bounce across his palm. He collapsed his hand, sweeping up the teeth, inspecting them.
"Good job warrior. I assume that the werewolf was not too much trouble after the initial misplacing?" Sinister inquired.

"No. Nothing a long bath can't cure. Stop calling a damn werewolf he wasn't. Your Intel is wrong," Blade informed.

"How dare you chant such blasphemous ridicule!" Sinister unhinged. "I am the greatest mind of the many centuries, I do not commit to mistakes!"

"Well whatever dicks your dog. I'm leaving; I got a nice bed at home. I'll be back when you got another puppy dog to murder," Blade dismissed and then took leave.

Romania, Weeks later

Here I return to the place of my rebirth. The sinful land underneath the blood red moon, Romania. It has been hundreds of years since my last visit and I shudder to think it has still been too premature. The shadows of my former man have haunted this place, keeping me away, but now I have a warrior in tow, a warrior who can both extract my revenge and save me from myself. It is with this warrior, Blade, that I shall overcome my eternal enemy and it's hell spawn, thus returning me to the mortal affliction of death. A right I no longer struggle against, but embrace warmly.

The guy's - scratch that, the animal's name is Russell, Jack - fucking Russell. That thing had to get picked on in high school. Unlucky bastard, not only was his name the same as a dog, but he grows the wagging tail and ass breath like a mutt. No time for sympathy though, he is scum, an unliving whore just like the bloodsuckers, and doesn't deserve sympathy. He deserves death, luckily for him, I'm here for that reason. Blade thought to himself.

The night was enchanted with the bleach white stares of a full moon. Soft whispers of the wind nibbled at Blade's ear chilling him through his entire body. He was at the foot of a menacing stone structure - The Russoff Castle, an inspiring Bastille, reaching for the night sky and casting a dark and evil shadow on the countryside for centuries.

"Creeps never slay too far from home. If this is granddaddy's castle, he'll be around," Blade told Sinister and Kale who joined at his side.

"Jennifer and I are entering the castle. We will await your victory there. Do not return to me empty handed, I want its heart," Sinister instructed before taking Jennifer Kale's delicate hand in his and trudging towards the looming construct.

"Yeah, sure. Leave me here alone, when you've got a voodoo witch," Blade mumbled to himself.

"He will be victorious lover, do not fret," Kale consoled a riffed Sinister.

"It is not fretting that concerns me Jennifer, it is contempt that holds me ill. Should I return to death? Is it grander than eternity? I have always searched for my legend, the prophecy that will render me eternal, but living for so, I have warranted death, when was I correct?" Sinister pondered.

"I guess one must truly experience both to answer such a question. Even so, one with your intellect and experience does not seem fit for an answer," Kale replied.

The castle shook in fear as a shot of lightning and growl of thunder leered closely. The blinding flash of light and disheartening scream outside diverted Sinister and Kale's attention, placing their eyes outside the stained glass windows overlooking the countryside. When their stares returned to each other, the six sense humans claim to have told them their gaze was not the only one fixed on each other. They both craned their heads to find the third person in the castle room.

"Russoff! The beast!" Sinister screamed with rage.

Several feet from both Sinister and Kale, shrouded in the dark of night, away from the gaze of the moon was the ten foot tall, lord of the castle, Jack Russoff Russell, saliva spewing from his snout, blood streaming from his massive clawed hands and his chest heaving violently. He had intruders, and he was angry.

"Don't worry, I got 'em!" Blade roared, dropping from an unseen spot in the castle rafters.

Blade swooped onto the massive back and shoulders of the werewolf, sinking the full length of his sword into the beast's shoulder as he fell. Russell's head screamed backward, ejecting an agony filled roar at the castle roof. In reflex, Russell snared a single fistful of Blade's clothing and tossed him easily at the stone castle wall.

Blade's body slammed into the wall, freeing bricks from the mortar, crumbling stone to the floor and busting Blade's skeleton, leaving him as a lump on the cold stone floor. Russell snapped at the blade deep inside his body with a paw, struggling to grab the handle. He finally reached it and pulled it viciously from his flesh. Blood sprayed from the struggle, littering his matted brown fur. When the blade was completely extracted, Russell once again howled in pain, this time readying himself to attack. He lunged for the downed and otherwise helpless Blade. He closed the gap with a blinding speed and was soon on top of Blade, he would have picked up the warrior in his massive jaws if it had not been for Jennifer Kale.

With a twist of her hand and a soft whisper of an ancient cantation, Russell was frozen in place, leaving him to howl violently at Blade in annoyance. His animalistic mind was unable to grasp what had happened to him. Blade awoke, snapping his joints and bones back into place, after short moments he was on his feet again.

"Thank you witch, but I don't need your hand outs, I'm a big boy. Since I got 'em though…" Blade trailed.

He reached into his denim jacket and jeans, returning with six knives, three in each hand. With a blinding slight of hand, shadows of dark skinned forearms swept over the werewolf next to him, depositing all six daggers in Russell's chest within seconds. Russell roared in Blade's face, annoyed, yet not killed by his barrage of stabs.

"Why don't you die?" Blade yelled back, annoyed by the persistence of the werewolf.

"Noble's coming…" Kale whispered to herself.

The fear and anticipation of the arrival of her ancestor swept over her, causing her to blackout, faint and drop to the ground. The trance she held over the anxious Russell faded along with he conscience. The beast freed from its statis lunged for Blade with a fierce animosity. It buried its claws into Blade's rib cage, busting the bones as he lifted him high into the air. Blade flailed uncomfortably in Russell's clutches. Russell tightened his grasp and then buried his muzzle into Blade's chest, parting his jaws and devouring the soft flesh, indulging in the salty and irony blood. Blade screamed as his muscles were torn away and swallowed by the creature.

Sinister was left the only capable body in the battle. He was left to face the fear that has haunted him since his death. The cursed Russoff family was left to be finished by his hand. He was no longer afforded the luxury of cowardice. He raised his hand towards the werewolf, Russell, who had his back turned to him, enjoying the snack of flesh. A rush of pink energy escaped Sinister's palm and basted Russell in it's paralyzing touch. Russell retorted, dropped Blade and turned to face Sinister. The beast was angered and would soon attack. Sinister released repeated blasts of energy, all of which did nothing but halt Russell's march for him. Russell was eternal, just like Sinister and would not die with psionic energy, both man and beast knew this. Blade, who lay in a river of crimson blood, skin and muscle, struggled to lift himself. He was eternal as well and the wounds he took on were not fatal, but disabling. He saw the predicament Sinister was in as Russell neared three feet of him. Through grimaces and throbbing pains emanating from his chest, Blade weaseled a hand into his holsters around his belt and freed a handgun.

"I hope watching Dog Soldiers helps…" Blade mumbled to himself. "Sinister!" He yelled.

Both Sinister and Russell turned their attention to Blade. Russell turned all the way around to see the fallen vampire toss the handgun at Sinister. It sailed over the curious Russell's head into the awaiting hand of Sinister. Russell turned to face him, but it was too late. Sinister opened fire on the beast, tens of bullets escaped the gun hurriedly and dug in past the fur and flesh deep inside the werewolf's chest. The munitions proved fatal, the casings were silver, a werewolf's Achilles' Heel. Blood flushed from Russell as he keeled over to his ultimate death.

"It's over," Sinister spoke aloud, letting the weapon slip from his hands.

He was wrong. From the dark skies outside, the clouds parted and a hailstorm of fire screamed through the air molesting the sprawled countryside. The fireballs torched and shook the ground like an onslaught of meteors. A sound like a thunder of feet took over the castle. It grew increasingly larger until the sound and its rider were upon Sinister, Blade, Kale, and Russell. Perched at the reigns of a black stallion with glowing orange mane of flames was a black leather clad menace. His face was simply a skull, overgrown with the fires of hell. In his hand was a long sword, swept in scalding flames like everything else. He rained down up the group of eternals like a furious god reclaiming its pawns. First was Sinister, beheaded by a mighty swing of the flame torn blade, sweeping his head clean off and putting him to death. Next, Jennifer Kale, the rider's descendant was swept up in his arms and placed in front of him on the horse.

"And what the fuck are you?" Blade roared, hoping to stand and oppose the hell bent demon.

It was in vain as the demon and horse descended upon him with the destructive blade, piercing the vampire's heart with it, leaving him dead. Noble Kale had returned. He returned to reclaim the souls he had let live and take them back to death.

THE END