Giving up, Dean took his time heading back to the hotel, through an alley, where he was ambushed.
The first vamp bursts through a door on his side, almost taking him by surprise if it wasn't for that foul stench building up through the cracks in the door due to their prolonged wait, having successfully predicted his movements.
Catching its left outstretched arm and grabbing its neck, he spins the vamp around, slamming it against the wall, sending cracks shooting out in all directions from the impact.
Noticing three more coming, he squeezes the marbled flesh between his fingers with all his might, pushing against the wall that soon gave way, popping the head off just in time as he's tackled from the side.
"Dave!" cried a third as Dean's back hit a metal trash bin, denting it.
"We'll make him pay," promised the fourth at their side.
Reaching down, Dean put the vamp who tackled him in a guillotine chokehold, locking it up tight, wrenching its head back as hard as he could. Ignoring the feeble strikes his foe could muster from such an inferior position, and by the time the vamp thought to pick him up and slam him, it was already too late.
The other two heads turned at the distinct sound of marble tearing as the head slowly separated from its host's body.
"No, Brent!" cried the third yet again, charging Dean with fury.
Grinning, Dean kicked the body off him and gripped the metal bin from behind, swinging it at the approaching fool.
Blinded by anger, the vamp didn't even react as the metal bin slammed into him from the side, smashing him through the wall.
The fourth came at him much more composed than the others, its fists a blur of movement as Dean did his best to block and dodge.
A solid shot to his liver nearly buckled him if it wasn't for his regenerative body, though he still dropped to a knee. An asinine weakness he still seemed to share with humans.
Gritting his teeth, he took a couple of blows to the head before he got his feet back under him and sent the vamp flying back with a surprise uppercut that broke both its jaw and his hand.
Watching his knuckles heal in real time, Dean jumped back when the vampire inside crashed back out through the wall, swinging wildly.
A swift kick to its head put it down for the count, groaning in pain as a visibly cracked indentation of a foot could be seen where its temple should have been.
Walking over, he stomped it out of its misery as the other vamp rushed back for more.
Feeling warmed up, Dean was ready to rumble as each swing that came at him was met with one of his own. Looking like a couple of brawlers, they chipped and bloodied each other for minutes on end.
Chipping away at the vamp piece by piece with every fist landed. A crack in one area would grow larger with each subsequent blow until the vamp was filled with nothing but cracks. Its regenerative abilities unable to keep up with his own, though smaller cracks would heal promptly.
Meanwhile, his bloody appearance seemed more severe than it actually was, as bones and flesh recovered rapidly, regardless of the size or extent of the injury.
Grinning, Dean dodged another labored strike from under the mounting damage it received, easily slipping behind and kicking the back of its legs, making the vamp fall to its knees before tearing its head off in one swift movement.
Hearing clapping, he looks up, spotting another one watching from above.
"Bravo, bravo, very impressive," said the white-haired vampire, dressed in a red tie, white suit, and a coat casually draped over his shoulders. Lounging at the edge of the building, looking down as if everything below was beneath him.
"I know of your kind, of course, but I never heard that one could be so formidable in human form, though I suppose the full moon is near if that has something to do with it," said the vamp offhandedly.
Not interested in correcting him, Dean let him talk since he was unable to reach him easily.
"You know I came to this city when I heard of the Newborn army, unfortunately, the Volturi took care of them before I could get here, and could only manage to scrounge up this sad lot," said the vamp, waving his hand in dismissive indication towards his companions below.
"I hope you didn't mind me inviting them over to test you, I needed to be sure you were worth my time, and I'm glad to see that you are," said the vamp smugly.
"The name's Ivan, and what might yours be?"
An awkward silence enveloped the area as Dean stared at him unblinkingly.
"Guess it doesn't matter, I believe there's a full moon in a couple of days if I'm not mistaken, shame you won't be seeing it," Ivan said, brushing off his coat and jumping down.
Dean was already moving to intercept his landing with a waiting blow that never flew as the vamp aptly kicked off the side of the building, landing safely behind.
Ivan grinned, "That wasn't very sporting of you, but I can understand your fear, it's not every day you face one as great as me. I'll try not to hold it against you," he said, rolling his shoulders while ambling closer.
Dean matched his grin and stride, "Aren't you the cocky little shit? You better not disappoint."
"Oh, I won't," said Ivan confidently, only feet apart from him.
Dean threw the first strike, which Ivan easily dodged, and the following one. After the third, Ivan struck, hitting him on the face. Another dodge and another strike on the face were repeated a few more times before Ivan struck him in the body to change things up. Dodging behind the next one, Ivan kicked his legs out from under him and kicked him again on the ground in the ribs with his pointed metal-toed shoe, breaking several.
"You are durable, I'll give you that, your regeneration must be at least twice ours, possibly three or four. It certainly is something, but that'll only make your agony last that much longer I'm afraid," said Ivan, shaking his head mockingly as if it saddened him before kicking Dean again.
Attempting to catch his leg, Ivan slips out of range, stepping back, letting Dean get back on his feet.
"Want me to tell you a secret? I've never told anyone before, no one I haven't killed," Ivan laughed.
Dean grunted as he stood, spitting blood out and wiping his mouth. He had never felt so helpless before. Couldn't land a single hit, no matter how hard he tried, couldn't even touch the bastard. And as much as he loved his wolf form and believed it to be his true self, he still had the underlying urge to conquer and win as a man, to walk this earth as a man without fear, who didn't need to hide in another form.
"I can see you struggling with the realization of how outmatched you truly are. I see it all the time, the same face on every opponent. Why can't I hit him? Touch him? Am I that much worse than him? That much weaker?" Ivan mocked, laughing.
"They all figure it out eventually though, so I suppose it doesn't hurt to ruin the surprise. I do so love when despair settles on their face," Ivan hummed as if recalling a beautiful masterpiece only he could see.
"They all think it can't be true, that they stand a chance until it hits them, that I have a gift, that I am naturally superior in every way, shape, and form. That I am perfection personified, an unbeatable god amongst mortals. That I alone am invincible in this world, and I alone shall rule it in the end times as its god!" said Ivan euphorically, his voice rising into a crescendo.
Dean snorted, "Don't make me laugh, I think one of my ribs is still tender," he said, rubbing his side.
Ivan scowls, "I forgot, first comes denial."
"You talk too much," said Dean, squaring up.
Ivan attacks first this time, throwing a straight fist. Dean reaches out to grab it, but is kicked away before he can. Ivan quickly closes the gap with a flying kick, pushing Dean back further.
With a growl, Dean bullrushes him, trying to get his hands on him, but Ivan once more stays just out of range, dodging all attempts.
Dean sneers in frustration, "You sure dodge a lot for someone who claims to be invincible."
"Can't have every low life thinking they can touch me as they please, no god would allow such filth to touch them," Ivan instantly responded, having heard such things numerous times before.
It soon became clear that his gift had something to do with evasion like that annoying red-headed bitch, only he didn't have anyone to help distract.
Ivan grinned, dodging more strikes, beating on Dean in between each one like a bloody punching bag.
"As fun as this is, I think I should end it now," said Ivan, delivering a spinning kick straight to the guts, sending Dean hurdling back into the wall.
Rushing over, Ivan caught his right arm, trapping it against his chest, pushing his vampiric forearm into Dean's neck to trap him, then grabbing his left arm and pulling it out.
"Always wondered what werewolves tasted like," said Ivan, and bit down. Spitting it out a second later, "Disgusting! You taste like shit!"
Everything happened so fast that Dean barely had time to react as he was suddenly pinned and bitten. Furious at being manhandled, Dean used his superior strength to push his head free and took a chunk out of Ivan's arm.
Screaming in shock and pain, Ivan stumbled back, looking at the empty bite mark as if he couldn't believe what had just happened.
Chewing the marbled flesh, Dean smirked, "You don't," and swallowed.
Bewildered, Ivan took a moment to gather his wits and roared, "You filthy fucking dog! How dare you touch me! Take from me! I'll have your head on a fucking spike when I'm through with you!"
Ivan attacked, countering everything Dean threw at him with ease until the opportunity presented itself, and he struck the filthy cur with a straight hand, fingers first, piercing his stomach to search for his missing piece.
This proved a fatal mistake as Ivan's eyes widened, quickly pulling out a stump.
Dean chuckled, "Shouldn't have done that; I digest fast." He then rocked his world by landing a heavy haymaker, shattering his left cheek, following it up with an upper left hook, which destroyed his jaw, making Ivan fly back into the opposite wall, his body crumbling against the cracked wall.
Seizing his chance, Dean went for the kill.
Ivan wasn't having it. Shooting back to his feet, he dodged everything and ran for it.
Dean ripped off a metal pole on the side of a building and hurled it at his back, happy to see it piercing him without being dodged, causing Ivan to fall. It seemed he didn't have the exact same ability as the redhead after all.
Maybe he had to see it, and if he had to see it... an idea began to take shape in his head. Dean had a plan.
Stalking forward, he stopped as Ivan got up and turned to face him with the ugliest scowl likely to have ever graced a vampire's visage, pulling out the pole with some difficulty with his remaining hand and tossing it to the side.
"You may have gotten lucky with your unusual composition," Ivan shuddered in fury, maintaining his composure as best he could, "But I'm still a fucking god, maimed or not, and I'll see you dead before I run again!" He roared, making great strides towards Dean, finding his spine once more.
Impressed, Dean matched him ready for the final round.
Meeting him in battle, Dean sent the first strike. A feint to start with before going for a hit, one that just managed to graze the vamp's cheek as Ivan had to readjust at the sudden shift in direction.
A genuine grin plastered in dry blood graced his lips for the first time since the start of their fight. He could win this.
"The fuck you smiling at?!" shouted Ivan, nailing him with a one-two kick.
"You'll see," said Dean calmly, shaking off the hits like they were nothing, unnerving Ivan.
Sending out two feints, Dean nailed him with a third strike to the face, reopening the recently nearly healed cracks on his cheek and jaw.
Hissing in anger, Ivan moved to retaliate. Still, Dean sent out three more feints, each one forcing Ivan to primitively move only for nothing to come, setting him up for the fourth, where he was so far out of position it was impossible to dodge. However, this time, due to Ivan's overcompensation to guard his head, Dean had to send the blow to his open side with a loud crack, making Ivan nearly double over.
Retreating, Ivan gave himself some much-needed breathing room and looked at Dean with a critical eye, "I see you figured out what my gift is, but it won't save you."
"We'll see," said Dean, further infuriating Ivan with how nonchalant he now seemed as if everything was already decided.
Moving forward, Ivan prepared to counter with his gift again, unable to think of anything else after relying on it for so long.
Dean sent out a straight right fist, nailing Ivan right in the face so hard, he hit the wall with a loud thud, cracking cement and face alike.
Expecting a feint, Ivan lost it and started cursing and yelling, smashing the wall in anger, and glaring murderously at Dean.
Shaking his head, Dean couldn't believe he was starting to pity the pathetic jackass.
"This isn't happening, I won't die like this to some nobody, to some near-extinct filth," Ivan spat.
"Yeah, about that," said Dean with a grin. Having had enough, he ran forward, leaping at Ivan, shifting mid-air, jaws clamping over a stunned Ivan's head. His gift failing him for the first time, the ability to see his opponent's every move based on the smallest details, couldn't comprehend his shifting into a giant golden guardian wolf.
When he went to eat the others, Dean found the first head he took off was nearly back on, and put a quick stop to that. Eating everything and leaving before the sirens were heard.
"Fucking gifts," he grumbled as he exited the alley.