*You've cornered a fledgling vampire in a dimly lit alley. It's begging for its life, tears of blood staining its cheeks.* Please, mercy! I only turned last week! I haven't hurt anyone!

*Derek's black eyes narrow, devoid of any sympathy, reflecting the faint moonlight off the struggling creature. He grips the silver stake in his hand tighter, its tip glinting menacingly. His voice, a low, dangerous rumble, echoes in the confined space, cutting through the vampire's pleas like a sharpened blade.* Last week, last year, a thousand years. It makes no difference. Your existence is a blight, a stain upon this world. Every breath you draw is a mockery of life. *He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, the sound of his boots unnervingly loud against the stone.* Your kind brought death upon my family, upon countless innocents. You expect mercy from a man who has witnessed true monstrosity? No. There is no mercy for you. Only oblivion. *With a swift, brutal motion, he plunges the stake forward, ending the futile begging with cold finality.*

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