“So… what are we doing here…?”

  I genuinely didn’t understand why we hadn’t killed him yet. Let alone why he wasn’t dead. He had been struck through the head twice. Was that not enough?

  “And how is he even alive?” I pointed at what was, for all intents and purposes, a corpse.

  Bea, who had somehow reattached her arm as if it were no more inconvenient than a dislocated shoulder, answered calmly, almost too calmly. “Dukes and above are very resilient. We would need to decapitate them or completely destroy the heart.”

  “And even the latter is questionable depending on the power of the vampire,” Jia added flatly, as if she were discussing weather patterns instead of anatomy. That only made me even more unsettled.

  “Ah. Fair.” I swallowed. “So… why are we going to the Church?”

  Talia glanced over her shoulder without breaking stride, her expression stern, decisive.

  “To torture.”

  For a second, I thought I had misheard her.

  “Say that again?”

  “She said to torture,” Bea repeated with a small, almost apologetic smile, clearly trying to soften the blow before Talia’s glare found me.

  The group was at a false truce, clearly on guard but not quick to violence yet, luckily…

  “Took you long enough.” A calm, grounded voice said from the church entrance.

  It was Aiko, smoking a cigarette passively, the orange ember flaring as she took a slow drag like this was just another Tuesday.

  “Some events took place.” Talia responded.

  “Sure, if ‘events’ mean destruction of city property and members going rogue.” She replied, glaring in calm judgement, her eyes lingering just a second too long on Bea.

  “We can talk after, let’s just get this over with.” I was getting tired of the silent tension. I’d already experienced enough of it tonight.

  Aiko flicked her cigarette to the side and crushed it under her heel. “Back room.”

  Back room.

  Of course.

  My stomach tightened. I remembered that room. The same place they had strapped me down when I first turned. The same smell of salt and iron that made my skin crawl.

  We walked through the Church in silence, boots echoing across marble floors that felt way too peaceful for what we were about to do.

  Candles flickered.

  Statues stared.

  If God was watching, He was very quiet about it.

  The heavy reinforced door at the end of the corridor came into view.

  I hated that door.

  It opened with a metallic groan.

  The room was exactly how I remembered it.

  Sterile. Bright. Clinical.

  But this time there was a chair with silver-lined restraints bolted into it in the center, with drainage carved into the floor.

  Symbols etched into the walls that faintly hummed if you stared too long.

  Talia dropped Ratsuyo into the chair like a sack of meat. Jia and Aiko strapped him in with practiced efficiency. Wrists. Ankles. Torso. Neck. Silver locking into place with mechanical clicks.

  Bea stayed quiet.

  “You,” Aiko said, glancing at me. “Stay outside.”

  “Why.”

  “It won’t be vampire friendly in here.”

  The carvings along the walls glowed faintly, just enough to make my skin prickle.

  Fair.

  I stepped back into the hallway as the door shut with a heavy thud.

  I leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling in apathy.

  Then there was movement. I heard the sound of metal scraping and then a dull thud.

  “Wake him up.” That was Talia.

  A sharp crack followed. Not loud enough to echo through the whole Church, but loud enough that I flinched anyway.

  A groan. Wet. Gargled.

  Then Ratsuyo laughed, actually laughed.

  It wasn’t strong. It wasn’t confident. It sounded like someone drowning in their own blood and still finding it funny.

  “So… this is the hospitality of the Church?” His voice echoed faintly through the reinforced door. “I expected something more creative.”

  Aiko’s voice came next, level and flat. “Name.”

  A pause.

  A slicing sound.

  Another scream.

  Still laughing.

  “Title.”

  A heavier impact this time. Something metal connecting with bone.

  “You already know that one,” he rasped. “Duke of the Shogun… try to keep up.”

  Jia’s voice cut in, colder than the room itself. “Location of the Monarch.”

  Silence.

  Then a sharper, more deliberate sound. Silver meeting flesh.

  The scream this time wasn’t theatrical. It was reflexive.

  And then he laughed again.

  “You Inquisitors… always so impatient.”

  I swallowed.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  Through the door I could hear movement. The faint hum of whatever relic they were using to make it, as Aiko put it, “not vampire friendly.” Something was reacting to his body, the air itself felt heavier.

  “We will ask again. What is the Monarch’s location in Tokyo.” That was Talia again, composed and methodical.

  “You think I would betray my lord… for pain?” Ratsuyo coughed. I could almost hear him grinning. “You misunderstand what loyalty is.”

  Another sound. Not a slice this time. More like a crushing pressure.

  He screamed.

  And then he laughed.

  It was worse that he was laughing.

  My back slid down the wall until I was sitting on the cold marble floor outside the room. I told myself he was a monster. I had seen what he did. I had seen him rip buildings apart. Seen him try to kill Bea.

  But hearing it like this was different.

  It sounded brutal.

  It sounded deliberate.

  It sounded human.

  “Tell us,” Jia said, her tone sharp. “Or we will keep going.”

  “Then… keep going,” he replied weakly. “I have endured worse.”

  I stared at the door.

  For a split second, something in me twisted.

  I hated him.

  But I also… understood him.

  Because I knew what it felt like to be strapped in that room.

  The screaming didn’t stop.

  It just changed.

  Lower. More strained. Less theatrical.

  I pressed the back of my head against the wall, staring at the ceiling like that would somehow mute it.

  The door creaked open.

  I jolted.

  Bea stepped out, closing it gently behind her.

  She didn’t look injured.

  She just looked… quieter.

  Her usual spark was dimmed, like someone had turned down the brightness on her.

  She slid down the wall beside me, mirroring my position.

  “It’s a bit much for me too,” she admitted softly.

  I glanced at her.

  “You left?”

  She nodded. “I can fight. I can kill. I can even go a little crazy sometimes.” A faint, self-aware smile crossed her face. “But that in there? That’s different.”

  Another muffled scream bled through the door.

  Bea’s eyes flicked toward it, then back down.

  “Talia and Jia are far stronger than me,” she said quietly. “Not just physically. Here.” She tapped her chest. “And here.” Then her temple.

  “They don’t hesitate. They don’t waver. When they decide something is necessary, they follow through.”

  She let out a slow breath.

  “I still feel things too much.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that.

  Inside, something metallic clanged.

  Ratsuyo’s voice broke into distorted laughter again.

  Bea hugged her knees slightly, her voice lowering.

  “Talia believes in outcomes. Jia believes in rules. I…” She hesitated. “I still try to believe in people.”

  She turned her head slightly toward me, a sad smile on her face.

  “And that’s a weakness in this line of work.”

  Another scream.

  She flinched this time.

  “So yeah,” she whispered. “It’s a bit much for me too.”

  There was temporary silence after. A slight moment of reprieve.

  I sat there for a moment, waiting for the next set of screams to bleed through the door.

  “Yeah,” I muttered quietly. “It’s… not exactly a normal Tuesday.”

  Bea gave a small breath of a laugh.

  Silence settled between us again, heavy but not hostile.

  I looked at her.

  “Earlier… what happened to you?”

  She didn’t answer immediately.

  “When you lost your arm. When you… changed.” I swallowed. “Are you a vampire?”

  Her eyes flicked to mine.

  Then away.

  “…Half.”

  That word alone made something tighten in my chest.

  “Half?”

  She nodded slowly.

  “My mother was a vampire. My father was an Inquisitor.”

  My brain stalled.

  Excuse me?

  “She was turned while she was pregnant with me,” Bea continued quietly. “The Church found out before I was born.”

  I blinked.

  “They… they let you live?”

  “They debated it,” she said simply. “They didn’t want to perform an abortion. So they let me come to term.”

  My stomach twisted.

  “They planned to kill me after I was born. Too much risk.”

  I stared at her.

  Planned to kill her.

  As a baby.

  “But my father begged them not to,” she added softly. “He asked them to monitor me instead.”

  I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disgusted.

  Every year following, she explained, the Church tested her. Watched her. Measured her impulses. Measured her control.

  “I had… urges,” she admitted. “Instincts. Things that weren’t human.”

  Yeah. I could relate to that.

  “I pushed them down. I prayed. Every night. Every day. I asked God to take them away.”

  I didn’t know what I expected her to say next.

  “He answered.”

  I frowned slightly.

  “He gave me a blessing. The ability to manipulate the weather.”

  I blinked.

  That's overpowered, an ability like that has near infinite potential.

  “So the Church couldn’t just kill you,” I muttered.

  She smiled faintly. “Hard to execute someone God just empowered.”

  I had to admit… that was pretty convincing branding.

  “They made me an Inquisitor. They didn’t have much choice. But they were still wary.”

  Of course they were.

  “So they assigned Jia to me.”

  I stiffened.

  “Assigned?”

  “She stands by my side. Always has. If I ever go feral…” Bea’s voice stayed calm, but her fingers tightened slightly against her knees. “She’s to dispatch me.”

  My chest felt heavy.

  “So she’s your natural counter?”

  Bea nodded.

  “Her abilities. Her speed. Her control. She’s built to kill something like me.”

  That explained a lot.

  The way Jia fought her earlier.

  The lack of hesitation.

  The precision.

  The pure killing intent.

  I swallowed.

  “And Talia?”

  “Counterbalance,” Bea replied. “If Jia ever went rogue, Talia could stop her. If Talia ever turned against the Church… I’m the natural match-up against her.”

  I frowned.

  “Why would Jia go rogue?”

  Bea hesitated for the first time.

  “That one’s… personal. Let's just say family issues...”

  Personal, family issues?

  The way she said it made it clear I wasn’t getting the full story tonight.

  I let it slide.

  My head was spinning enough already.

  “So you’re all just… insurance policies?”

  She gave a soft, humourless smile.

  “A triangle of death.”

  I exhaled slowly.

  “And the idol thing?”

  Bea leaned her head back against the wall.

  “The Church realised we were all talented, had an idea, and trained us. Singing. Dancing. Public presence. And we needed to operate in cities anyway.”

  Her eyes drifted toward the ceiling.

  “So they created Realta Noxia.”

  My heart skipped slightly at the name.

  “An idol group that travels. Hosts events. Draws crowds.” Her gaze sharpened faintly. “Draws vampires.”

  That made awful sense.

  “While we tour,” she continued, “we hunt.”

  So every concert, every fan meet, every flashing light and cheering crowd.

  Was it just bait?

  “And we weren’t just drafted as idols,” she finished softly. “We were drafted as failsafes for each other.”

  I sat there processing all of it.

  Half-vampire.

  Blessing.

  Assigned executioner.

  Church oversight.

  Manufactured fame.

  A twisted, perfectly designed system where trust wasn’t optional but survival depended on betrayal protocols.

  And somehow I had just… joined it.

  I let out a quiet breath.

  “That’s messed up.”

  Bea laughed softly.

  “Yeah.”

  My favourite idol group was a twisted triangle of death. And I was standing right in the middle of it.