. . .Portent. . .
Somehow, he'd imagined that he would have been somewhat more powerful. Angel of Death was a title that carried a certain weight with it. If the Angel of Death were to become a vampire...
He'd entertained these thoughts before, and the stoned faced man that had the Angel's smooth features and Walter's apparel and stature. Well, it was far less than he had hoped. Then again, he'd always had delusions of grandeur.
"Wanna dance, old man?"
Even that sounded corny. Old man, young man... he was back as the Dracul now, and asking former comrades at arms to fight in a clearly unmatched battle was just too damn easy...
He'd been thinking too much again, and the first wire had nicked him on the cheek. Touché. Surely Sir Integral would be yelling at them both now in her usual manner, and all would be well in and splendid at the end of the world.
"I worked so hard on this face."
Never a reply from him, just that red eyed look of almost tired resignation, almost berserker clarity. So they had perfected one thing. He had to give millennium that. If you looked him straight in the eye, he could almost pretend he was Midian.
He decided to go in for the kill now; this toy lacked the humor and wit of Walter, and the dependability of any of the other Nazi toys. It would be swift and painless after all; he did respect the man in life, if only for a trifling second or two in his eternal day.
But those damned wires...
"It is not by your hand I will die," he whispered, tightening the hold of the wires around his body, "Not by yours... Alucard." He wanted to spit at him for the subservient name...
What was holding him back?
But the smirk from the stone face told him exactly why, and he couldn't help but smirk back.
Another hand indeed...
AN: Another half hour challenge. One character sees another after a life altering change. This was my first though. XD