The Dark Sire Issue 4 (Summer 2020) | Page 44

The old man and his daughter seized up the three small children, still sitting dazed and motionless, their eyes wide open in shock. Pulling and pushing, the two familiars rushed the children up the stairs and, crossing themselves repeatedly, prayed to be out of danger. Petbe turned to face the remaining three vampires. The male was flanked by both females. All three hissed and spat. They looked back and forth from one another, trying to figure out how they could survive against such a powerful enemy. Petbe moved first, without hesitation, thrusting his hand into the roaring blaze of the fireplace. He withdrew a log, fully engulfed in flames, and thrust the log first left then right. The flimsy gowns worn by the two females ignited easily. The women’s screams pierced the air as they flailed their arms, trying to extinguish the flames. Tendrils of fire slithered up into their hair and with a crackling hiss, both of their heads were suddenly and completely engulfed in flame. Their dead skin blackened and peeled back from their skulls as they fell to the floor in a pile. The flames peaked for a moment, then selfextinguished as the two corpses turned to ash. Once more, Petbe felt the tingle and surge. The last vampire, realizing his weakness and imminent death, dropped to his knees before the child, offering up his neck. Undefended, Petbe rewarded him with a swift and merciful destruction. The stench of death still wrapped the continent. Millions of pairs of marching boots trampled the once bucolic fields and pastures, transforming them into muddy 42