A Mutant Collector Quest

"Arghhh—"

"Shit, another bust," you mutter in frustration, watching the female vampire burst into flames under the sunlight, leaving nothing but a pile of ash.

Staring down at the smouldering remains, you are starting to understand why Whistler was so insistent on avoiding this fate.

Abraham Whistler, whom you had found bloody and barely clinging to life at Blade's safe house, had been beyond saving, despite all your efforts. It was only your Phoenix Magic that stoked the last few embers in his failing heart, allowing him to share his final wishes.

In those moments, though you typically avoided using your Telepathic Powers, you still used them, delving into his mind. It had been painful for him—straining and far from subtle—but there was no time for finesse. You extracted all the information you could before he passed.

Through his memories, you saw the brutal events of the previous night, learning that just as you had feared, Blade had been captured by a vampire named Deacon Frost.

You also witnessed Whistler's torture at the hands of Frost's followers and felt the man's deep-seated fury toward vampires. As alongside last night's memories, you also glimpsed at fragments of his life—enough to see the tragedy that defined him.

Once, Whistler had been an ordinary man with a loving family—a wife and a little girl. But that peace was shattered the night a Vampire invaded their home, feeding on his family and leaving their lives in ruins. For his own twisted amusement, the Vampire even forced Whistler to choose which of them would die first.

When the vampire finally left, Whistler was the only one left alive—a mistake the creature would come to regret. Driven by vengeance, Whistler dedicated himself to the hunt, tracking vampires tirelessly, always hoping to one day find the monster who destroyed his family.

Years went by before he finally avenged them, slaying the creature responsible. To his surprise, he discovered that the vampire had been carrying a package—a baby, intended for delivery to another vampire named Deacon Frost.

He raised that child who grew up to become Blade! Although Whistler later had a daughter from a one-night stand, he always considered Blade his true son, despite him being a half-vampire hybrid.

Even in his final moments, his last thoughts were of his dying wish: he begged you to burn his body to prevent his own conversion. He refused to become the very monster that had murdered his entire family.

You honoured that pitiful man's wish, letting Holy fire consume his body.

Now, you were trying to fulfil his other request: rescuing Blade. But that wish was proving anything but simple.

There were a few major challenges. First, the vampires' Supernatural Invisibility shielded them from D.A.I.S.Y.'s scans and your Satellite Swarm. Still, the satellite feed wasn't totally useless—as you found out that last night several vehicles entered and left the factory, dispersing across the city.

Unfortunately, there were too many vehicles, and instead of heading to a single location, they had scattered across the city. This made it impossible to pinpoint Blade's exact location—if he was even in one of them at all.

So in search of Blade you and Elsa started raiding these Vampire bases one by one. During the daytime, the vampires were mostly tucked away in coffins or basements, making them easier targets. However, interrogating them was another story. Despite Elsa's… 'polite' questioning methods, these low-level vampires knew little. They were simply following orders.

The second issue was your Telepathy. It didn't work on these creatures—whether due to their brains being already dead or some other magic bullshit, there was simply nothing to connect with mentally. That left you with the unenviable task of asking each one directly.

To cover more ground, you and Elsa split up, each targeting different bases. But it was almost evening now and you were getting a bit annoyed facing these repeated bumps along the way to Blade's rescue.

"I am heading to the last base on my list," you inform Elsa over your Focus. She had been working in a totally different part of the city at the moment.

"Got it. I have still got three more," Elsa responds with the sound of a vampire screaming in the background. She must also be sun tanning some vampire.

In fact you have realised that, watching Whistler's memories have clearly left an impact on you. Ordinarily, you wouldn't even consider 'sunbathing' vampires, but his hatred seemed to have seeped into your own approach.

The Vampires' self combustion through their expose to sunlight was fascinating to look at the first few times, after that it just became a quick and efficient way to get rid of them.

You speed through the city in your red sports car, noticing how blissfully unaware everyone is of the dark underbelly hidden within their world. Well, as they say Ignorance is bliss.

Before long, you arrive at a gated mansion. "You can go straight in" D.A.I.S.Y. informs you as the gate swings open.

"Thanks," you say, grinning as you drive in. Parking in front of the sprawling mansion, you are greeted by two large men hurrying out to meet you.

"What the—how did you get in here?" the first man, a black guy, says, alarmed.

"Sir, this is private property. You can't be here," the second, a white guy, says with narrowed eyes, his hand inching toward his gun.

"Relax, gentlemen. I was invited," you say with a smile, stepping out of the car with your hands raised. "And here's my invitation." Sparks leap from your fingers.

ZAP!

Both men collapse instantly, unable to even react before your lightning knocks them out cold. They were just regular humans—D.A.I.S.Y. confirmed it via scan. You are not surprised, as you have encountered other human thralls working for vampires today.

"Interesting," you mutter, placing a hand on each of their heads to read their memories. Afterwards, you lift their limp bodies and toss them onto a sofa inside the lavish but oddly empty house.

Instead of heading upstairs, you turn to a door beside the staircase, making your way down into the basement.

"Oh! Seems I have a guest," a sultry voice greets you as you descend.

At the bottom, you find yourself face-to-face with a scantily dressed woman, a striking figure with dark skin, and a piercing gaze. Her tits seems to pop out of her bra and her wide hips seems to be straining her panties. Her messy black hair suggests she has only just woken up.

"Did Master send you with orders?" she asks, a hint of hope in her tone.

The room is mostly empty, with just a large bed dominating the center. You respond, moving closer, "No, your 'Master' didn't send me here."

Her eyes narrow, flashing with anger. "Oh? Then who the fuck are you?" she snarls, baring her fangs in a hostile stance.

If her blood-red eyes weren't enough of a hint, her fangs confirm it: she's a vampire. You had already known as much when she failed to appear on your Focus's scanner, but she is not just any vampire. You have seen her before.

"Where's Blade, Vanessa?" you ask, your gaze hardening as you tower over her, unfazed by her hostility.

"B-Blade? … W-who?" she stammers, shock in her eyes as she steps back.

Your hand moves in an instant, seizing her throat. "Answer me … where is Blade? Where's your son, Vanessa?" you demand, lifting her off the ground with ease.

Yes, this is Vanessa Brooks—Blade the Vampire Hunter's mother … and a Vampire herself.

"I-I don't know!" she chokes out.

You can't help but smirk slightly at her attempt to gasp for air, forgetting that she doesn't actually need to breathe. Old habits, perhaps—proof that some fears linger, even after transformation.

"Oh, you do know," you insist, tightening your grip. "You were there last night, weren't you? You and Deacon captured him. Where is he?"

"Don't you dare say my Master's name, from your filthy mouth!!" she shrieks, swiping her claws at your face in fury.

You release her and step back, watching her claw at empty air before collapsing to the floor, coughing. "T-that bitch ass got what he deserved," she spits, clutching her neck. "How dare he get in Master's way!"

Your gaze hardens with disgust. "Doesn't any part of you feel regret for what you did? … Aren't you his mother? Blade has spent years hunting your supposed killer, only to find you alive … and then you go on to betray him for that same killer?"

You had pieced all of this together from Whistler's memories. Blade and Whistler had been hunting Vanessa's supposed killer, Deacon Frost, for decades. For Blade, it was more than a mission—it was a relentless drive for vengeance against the vampires who had taken his mother from him even before he was born.

But when Blade returned to his base last night from the nightclub, he found it in ruins. Whistler lay on the floor, barely clinging to life. Amid his shock, Blade saw someone he had been searching for his whole life—his mother, Vanessa. She was alive, standing right there in front of him.

Overcome by disbelief and relief, Blade let his guard down as Vanessa ran into his arms. Whistler, helplessly watching, tried to warn him, but he was too weak to speak. In that vulnerable moment, Vanessa drove a needle into Blade's neck.

The last thing Whistler saw before losing consciousness was Blade collapsing, as Deacon Frost stepped from the shadows, a triumphant smile on his face.

"Master didn't kill me," Vanessa sneers, pulling herself up. "He gave me new life! Power, Eternal youth, Immortality! If my son's life is what Master needs, then he should be honoured!"

Your face twists in disbelief. "I am asking you one last time. Where… is… Blade?" Holy flames spark in your palms, casting a harsh light over her face. "Refuse to answer, and you are in a world of hurt."

She smirks, her red eyes glowing defiantly. "Do your worst. I would never betray my Master, not even if you burned me alive in the sun!"

After spending almost the whole day, making these undead beings talk, you can feel that she was behaving very differently from them. There were some vampires who were somewhat loyal to Deacon, but most of them were quite selfish, as vampires tend to be according to Elsa. Yet Vanessa's unwavering loyalty feels … unnatural. Almost as if…

Shutting off the holy flames, you seize her wrists as she attempts another swipe. Slamming her back against the wall, you hold her mouth shut with one hand and pin her arms above her head with the other.

"Umph!" She glares back at you with defiance, trying to use her hands and body to push you away.

You were a bit surprised by how weak she was in comparison to the other Vampires you have fought before, she must not be getting much of her nutrition here in the basement. "Stay still for a moment" You order, clamping on her mouth a bit harder.

"El, are you there?" you call out as your Focus flashes blue.

"Yeah, I am on my way to the next base. Find anything?" Elsa's voice comes through, the bustle of the city faintly audible behind her.

"About those thralls you mentioned—can vampires actually turn other vampires into thralls, or is that limited to humans?" you ask, watching the female vampire struggle helplessly in your grasp. Her behaviour fits the thrall profile perfectly… it would also explain why she chose Deacon over her own son.

"I am not certain… I think I read something like that in my father's journal. I would have to check back at my family's library to be sure. Why, did you really find one of Deacon's thralls?" Elsa asks, her curiosity piqued.

"Something like that," you reply with a sigh, making a mental note to suggest that she digitise her father's journal for easier access. "What about the cure you mentioned?" you ask, your gaze sharpening as Vanessa stops struggling and glares at you.

"For normal thralls, the cure is… just my blood," she says quietly.

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