There was a knock at the door.
Aiken opened his eyes. He was lying on the hotel bed, his jacket thrown over a chair, and his phone charging by the bedside. The sun hadn't risen yet, but sleep hadn't come easily either. Not here.
Another knock. This time firmer.
Aiken rose and approached the door.
On the other side stood a man in his fifties, with neatly combed brown hair and a professional smile. He wore a sleek, dark suit — polished shoes, silk tie — the image of hospitality.
"Excuse me, sir," the man said smoothly, hands folded before him. "I think we've made an error in assigning you this room."
"An error?"
"Yes," the man nodded politely. "It seems this room was already reserved in advance. We apologize for the inconvenience, but we would kindly ask you to change rooms. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes."
The man's eyes were cold despite the warmth of his voice.
Aiken stared back. He could feel it.
The faint pulse of magic.
The unnatural stillness beneath the smile.
Vampire.
"Coming," Aiken said calmly from behind the door.
A moment later, it creaked open.
Aiken stood there, wearing a black t-shirt, his hair slightly disheveled, expression unreadable.
"Come on in," he said, stepping back to allow entry.
The vampire's smile sharpened, a glint in his eye.
He stepped forward.
The instant he crossed the threshold, his body jolted.
His nostrils flared.
The scent hit him like fire.
Vervain.
Thick in the air — soaked into the walls, the furniture, the bedsheets. The whole room was a vervain trap.
"You fuck—!" he hissed, staggering as a wave of weakness overtook him. His skin flushed, his throat tightened.
He lunged forward with a snarl—
Only to collapse to his knees, screaming.
Aiken watched silently, his eyes focused. The vampire clutched his skull, writhing in agony.
"You're not a hunter!" the vampire screamed. "You're a witch! You're a damn witch!"
Aiken sighed softly, walking over.
"Well… not exactly," he said, placing a hand on the vampire's shoulder.
The vampire gasped.
His body began to crackle with energy. His skin blistered.
"What… what are you—?!"
Aiken's hand pulsed faintly.
He was siphoning the vampire's magic — draining the undead life force that sustained him.
'It's been since I came in this room that I thought about how to deal with these bastards…' Aiken thought. He'd tried to sense more vampires after he met the hotel porter one. He found magic lingering in the hallways. Too many auras. Too many eyes.
The vampire began to wither. His veins blackened. His skin turned ashen.
'Honestly… I should've figured this out earlier. Could've taken Damon out of circulation weeks ago.'
The man gave one final shriek — and then, silence.
The corpse dropped to the floor, gray and shriveled.
Aiken stood still, his palm faintly glowing with siphoned power.
He breathed in.
Full of magic now.
Aiken froze for a moment, eyes narrowing.
A pulse of magic.
Something was rushing toward him — fast.
He turned toward the entrance, hand reaching under the small decorative table by the door where he'd hidden a wooden stake, just in case.
There!
In one motion, he grabbed it — and hurled it forward with a flick of his fingers.
It shot out like a bullet, guided by an invisible force.
Telekinesis.
The stake flew down the hallway, its speed cracking the air.
Aiken blinked in surprise. It was the first time he'd used telekinesis. Up until now, he never had enough magic to waste testing it. But now?
This hotel was practically a walking buffet of magical batteries.
The blur that was the incoming vampire came to a stop — hand out, catching the stake midair.
"You killed Cliff?" the vampire said, smiling. "You're pretty good for a newbie hunter..."
He chuckled.
His fangs gleamed.
Then he stopped.
Eyes widening.
A shriek tore from his mouth.
The stake ignited, burning directly into his vampiric essence.
The flames climbed his arm. Then his chest.
He began screaming.
"What—! What is this?!"
The fire consumed him, and he stumbled backward, flailing, panicked. The scent of burning flesh mixed with scorched wood.
"Newbie?" Aiken muttered, stepping out of the room. He rolled his shoulders and stretched slightly. "Mmh... now that I think about it…" he said as he watched the vampire collapse, burning, "You're right. First time."
The hallway was quiet for a moment — before the shuffle of many footsteps echoed all around.
Aiken looked both ways.
Vampires.
At least a dozen, maybe more.
Men and women in tailored suits and dresses, hotel uniforms and casualwear. Every one of them dangerous.
And standing at the center, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, was a tall man with long blond hair, combed back like a noble from another age. His eyes were a cold blue. Regal. Ancient. Amused.
He watched Aiken like a cat watches a mouse.
Aiken returned the stare, calm.
"Can you guys just not bother me anymore?" he said, rubbing his temple slightly. "I'd really prefer not to destroy the hotel. The bed was quite comfortable."
A few of the vampires growled.
The blonde man chuckled, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear.
"You're quite the character, huh?" he said. "You're a witch, right? Those flames were absolutely majestic..."
He took a step forward, boots clicking lightly.
"You came at the perfect time. One of ours rebelled recently — took some of our toys with her. Our artifact production's taken a hit."
His smile widened.
"So I'll be honest. You're pretty. Strong too. A bit of a wild card."
He tilted his head.
"Surrender now, before we ruin that pretty face of yours."
Aiken sighed.
Both his hands rose.
And instantly, half the hallway erupted into screams.
Vampires clutched their heads — some dropped to their knees, others stumbled into the walls.
A wave of pressure rolled down the corridor — invisible and suffocating. Aiken's magic bore down on them like a storm. Siphoned magic, psychic power. His body trembled with strain, sweat trailing down his temple.
He had burned through all the energy he'd taken from Cliff.
Now even Ecdysis's magic was starting to drain.
The blonde vampire watched, untouched, expression unreadable.
He hadn't been affected.
But he didn't act.
He just turned his head slightly and said, "Get him."
Some of the vampires screamed in protest.
But they obeyed.
Even through the pain.
Even as blood leaked from their eyes and ears, a few sprinted toward Aiken — reckless, feral, afraid of something even worse than death.
The blonde vampire.
Aiken stood ready, chest rising and falling rapidly.
"...Alright," he muttered, voice low.
"Round two."
***
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How was this chapter? Liked it?
Am I making Aiken too overpowered? Or is it ok?