text: You swing your fist, smashing into the side of the girl's head, as she crumples to her knees. She lets out a pained moan through her gag, and as blood trickles down the side of her face, her eyes fill with fear. You pull on her chain again and she follows. You quickly lead the two along the hallway, before up the stairs, into the "church". You hear Count Grey's dark, cold, emotionless voice from the main hall.
  
  
  "Welcome, Viceroys. Did you decide to come together, or simply met on the road here?"
  
  
  "Coincidence, my lord," another far deeper voice booms, one more filled with malice and hatred than Count Grey's.
  
  
  "Good, good. Haygarth!" Count Grey shouts.
  
  
  "Yes, yes master?" Haygarth's voice comes back from the stables.
  
  
  "Come, fetch the Viceroy's coats!"
  
  
  "Yes, yes sir!" Haygarth says, quickly hurrying to them.
  
  
  You turn your attention back to the task at hand. In front of you in a large, open stone room. Groves cover the stone floor, making the shape of a large pentagram. Lucas' two prisoners are kneeling at two of the points of the pentagram chained to a loop in the stone to prevent them from moving, while Dasha lies at the third, her unconscious state meaning she doesn't need to be chained up. 
  
  
  "Come on," you say, raising your fist to threaten the second girl. You force her to kneel on the ground and chain her to the loop in the ground. You drag the first girl to the other, doing the same.
  
  
  Mikhail and Lucas stand off to the side, watching them. Mikhail looks down, looking vaguely embarrassed at his part in this. Lucas, however, seems ecstatic. He walks forward, grinning as he draws his dagger.
  
  
  "Oh boy, look at that!" he says, dropping to his knees in front of a girl. "Look at that. You see the pentagram? You see those deep, thick groves? I'm going to fill them with your blood. You like that? You ready?"
  
  
  The girl frantically begins to struggle, as Lucas smiles. Lucas slices the girl's throat open, as blood pours out, flooding into the grove and running along. The girl gurgles as blood pours through her throat, and Lucas lets the head fall to the ground over the grove, letting the blood pour out into it.
  
  
  "Mikhail, come on, we need this ready for the Viceroys and Count Grey!" he says.
  
  
  "I am not a butcher," Mikhail says softly, as Lucas' eyes narrow.
  
  
  "Don't fucking take the high road. You drugged every whore here, knowing it was all so we'd slit there throats here. You're as much a murderer as I am."
  
  
  Mikhail looks to the ground, opening his mouth as if to say something, but closing it just as quickly.
  
  
  "That's what I thought. Samuel, grab your knife, let's get to work."
  > You let Lucas kill them all
  You stare at Lucas wordlessly, who frowns. Lucas works to the next girl angrily, kicking her in the back of head to force her above the grove. He grabs her by the hair, holding her forward and quickly slashing her throat as the blood pours out. He walks to the next one, who at this point is frantically trying to escape. Lucas stabs her through the throat multiple times, as blood spurts to the ground. 
  
  
  "Watch them die, cowards. You choose for this to happen. Whether you want to actually hold the knife or watch, you're fucking monsters. We all are. At least, I'm proud of myself."
  
  
  Lucas walks over the second last girl, putting the knife to her throat. The girl struggles desperately, but the chains stop her from resisting
  
  
  "Lucas! Mikhail! Samuel! Come down here!" Count Grey asks. "Quickly!"
  
  
  "We need to go," Mikhail says, quickly turning and heading towards the door.
  
  
  Lucas shrugs, slicing open the girl's throat and letting her head fall and knock against the cold stone. He quickly hurries towards Count Grey, and you follow. You quickly hurry towards the main hall, walking down the spiraling stairs. Count Grey stands there, alongside his three Viceroys, and Haygarth rushing to put away coats.
  
  
  Viceroy Draven is a tall, large man covered with heavy muscles. He has long, curly black hair, and instead of the black attire of the other three, wears steel plated armor covering him from the neck down, with a sword hanging by his side. From what you know, he's almost five hundred years, once being and most likely still remaining a formidable warrior. He looks at you, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you. He lets out a low, guttural growling at the sight of you, and even after years of work around Count Grey, the man manages to make you feel like little more than a blood bag.
  
  
  The second, Viceroy Mihrab, is even older, almost as old as Count Grey. His skin seems unusually tight,  a light brown in complex, his face sunken, his eyes lacking any emotion whatsoever. He wears dark attire, his eyes glancing in your direction away for a second, before peering away with disinterest. He doesn't appear to be armed, but with the long, sharp fingernails on his hand that at that length qualify as swords as well as long fangs, he doesn't need them.
  
  
  The final Viceroy, Alexa, is the only woman of the group. She wears a black hooded cloak, her pale, scarred face underneath, with unnaturally long fangs even for one of her kind to halfway down towards her chin. She leans against the wall, looking at you without a single noise. She stares at you like a starved wolf. Something tells you that of all those there, she's the biggest threat. 
  
  
  "Yes, master?" Mikhail says, standing up straight.
  
  
  "Werewolves spotted on Hangman's Trail," he says. "They're amassing. Perhaps for a strike."
  
  
  You pause, and can hear the distant howls of what lies between monsters and men.
  
  
  "We'll push them back, sir," Mikhail nods. 
  
  
  Mikhail turns away, and quickly begins heading to the armory. You follow, and you all quickly descend the stairs to the armory. You walk inside, grabbing a padded leather duster and slinging it over. You grab a rifle, as well as several magazines of silver bullets, popping them in a satchel that you put over your head. 
  
  
  Now suitably armed, you grab a lantern, walking out towards the main hall. The Vampires have left, no doubt to partake in some drinks, discuss future plans, before beginning the ritual and, imbued with a power that grows as the blood moan rises, slaughtering dozens of helpless villagers.
  
  
  You walk out the hall doors, pushing the door open and entering the dark night. You walk along the earth, passing the gate, which for some reason has been left open, one of the Viceroy's carriages sitting under the raised portcullis.
  
  
  "Should we move it so we can drop the portcullis?" you ask.
  
  
  "And piss off Count Grey and whoever owns this carriage? No fucking chance," Lucas says.
  
  
  As you leave and wander off into the trees. Soon, the only sound is the crunching of leaves under foot and your breathing.
  
  
  "Control your breathing. Deep breaths. Watch your foot placement as well as the path in front of you. Avoid twigs and try leaves. We're trying to hunt, best be quiet about it," Lucas says. "The man's most definitely untrustworthy and cruel, but he knows how to hunt.
  
  
  You take his advise, holding the lantern out to illuminate the path ahead. You see a shape move to your right, and stop, immediately twisting to aim.
  
  
  "Contract, left side!" you whisper.
  
  
  "Just a deer, stay focused!" Lucas whispers. "This is a fucking hunting trail, of course there's deer around!"
  
  
  You keep moving, you gun raised in your one hand, propped in the crook of your shoulder to allow you to aim. 
  
  
  The beam of your light comes across a deer lying on the ground. It's belly has been ripped to shreds, entrails covering the earth around it and soaking it with bodily fluids. It's head, connected to its body by a few strands of sinew and muscle, lies in the grass at the edge of the path, two lifeless eyes staring towards the stars. 
  
  
  "It's fresh, look out!" Lucas growls, as you immediately turn. You see a form rush through the undergrowth, aiming at it, but it's gone before your finger can even tighten on the trigger. 
  
  
  A growling comes from the trees to your left, and you swing your rifle over to aim at the beast. They're faster than usual. They're not supposed to be this fast. It must be that fucking moon!
  
  
  A howl comes from your right, and you drop your lantern to aim, catching a glance of blood-matted fur and a flash of white teeth. The beasts don't seem to bee going for the attack, rather endlessly circling, toying with you. None of you have even had the chance to fire a shot.
  
  
  Suddenly you see one of them, basked in the red glow of the moon, dead in the center of the path. This one stands directly there, hunched over and staring at you, clearly not scared in the slightest. It's abnormally large, not even wearing the tattered remains of clothes, covered in patches of fur. it's head is malformed, it's jaws filled with teeth that barely fit in its mouth, crushed into somewhat of a snout. It's hungry eyes stare at you, as it lets out a low growl. It's trying to bait you into striking. Still, maybe this is the best chance you're getting.