Scythe X Vinestaff Novels & Stories

"In my mountain? In her room?" Vincent raised his hand, and the shadows of the room rose like a tidal wave, wrapping around the Stalker. It was a battle of darkness against darkness. Vincent’s magic was ancient and grounded in the earth, while the Stalker’s was a corrupted, alchemical imitation. "Félix, now!" Vincent commanded. Félix, gasping for air, saw his opening. He reached into the pouch on his belt—the one Maya had given us—and pulled out a vial of concentrated Blue-Brier and lunar salt. He smashed the vial directly into the Stalker’s face.

Because his mouth seemed willful, trying to fight back or resisting cooperation. “I don't care what you want to know. You are not getting anything from m….! Ugh!” Again this man’s words were cut halfway as another blow landed his face. “Fuck you!” he sneered at me. “I don't think this will work. Let’s find something he holds dear in his heart,” Skye walked over with an ice pick in her hand. Skye let the tip of the ice pick travel around the exposed part of Vincent’s arm to his neck. “Maybe someone….?”

He didn't offer a bribe. He stared at the man with the cold, dead eyes of Wraith—the top killer on the server. Say a word, and you go in the chute. The message was clear. The skeletal man gulped. He looked away, trembling. He went back to sorting. "I saw nothing," he whispered. QUEST UPDATED: LOOT ACQUIRED: Encrypted Slate (Rare). RISK LEVEL: Extreme. TIME: 19:00 HOURS. LOCATION: THE SCRAPYARD GATES.

" Rusty asked, his voice trembling as he pulled himself up using the edge of the workbench. Cattleya set out her primary surgical instruments”scalpels, bone chisels, vascular clamps, and glass collection vials”arranging them in precise, geometric order upon the slate surface. "Dominic controls the Church through the leash of his stabilizer," Cattleya said, her grey eyes reflecting the faint, yellow streetlamp glow from above. "Vasili controls the vampires through their dependency on raw harvest fluid. Both factions rely on the same fundamental biological flaw."

Mathin parried. And suddenly Scy was there, a katana-like energy blade weaving like St. Elmo’s fire, interfering with the monster’s blade and luring it away while Mathin freed himself. Balanced on one foot, Mathin withdrew his own gun and stood ready to aid should Scy need it.

Xander sneered and thrust the hunting knife into Vito’s thigh, the same way he’d done to Serenity. “Let’s see how long you can maintain your silence. It’s gonna be a long night.” Xander frowned in mock sadness, “What should we do next? Perhaps something to take the edge off.” Xander picked up the syringe, knowing full well that whatever it contained was meant to enhance the feelings in your nerve endings instead of dulling it.

And in his hand was Alexis' scythe. Swuuungggg~... Swuuungggg~ ... Swuuunggg~ ... Andrew Tomahawk, the noble class vampire who became a shadow army, and in his giant form, swung Alexis's mystical scythe at Damien, trying to attack him. Damien was a little surprised that Andrew, despite being in such a large body shape, could swing a scythe very quickly. His movements completely did not reflect the body of a giant who was slow and also had a limited range of motion.

It was looking for an opportunity to stop Adrian and Rozi's joint attack. The black scythe emanated with an air of death. It felt even colder than the air around them. A faint black aura could be seen around the scythe, seemingly made out of a singular soul locked within. The soul shrieked and wailed in pain. The scythe thirsted for human life, and it would lock the soul it reaped within itself for an eternity of suffering.

After dealing with Severin, Cyrus casually finished off Graham as well. Graham was lucky. He was still unconscious when he died, so he felt no pain. Cyrus stored both bodies in his pocket dimension. He planned to dispose of them later. Blood still stained the floor. He took a mop from the bathroom and cleaned it up. Vincent still had not woken. Cyrus stared at him for a full minute. If he wanted to kill Vincent, now would be the perfect moment. Vincent would never even know it happened.

I stepped in closer, gaze cutting straight through him. “Vincent didn’t kill Brian just because he overheard a conversation about mass-producing Strigoi venom. That alone wouldn’t warrant a death that brutal. And if you’re about to say it was to protect his identity—don’t. Brian wouldn’t have recognized him. The Pierces joined the fold five centuries ago. Vincent’s name hasn’t touched a single lesson in generations.” I let the silence stretch, let the weight of what I was implying drop like a stone in water. “So tell me—what did Vincent think Brian heard? What was so dangerous, so damning, that it couldn’t be allowed to exist in the mind of a tribute rejecter?”