He dropped from the ceiling without warning.
No crouch.
No sound.
Just a dead fall—like a corpse tossed from a great height—yet he landed upright, silent, balanced, and effortless.
Marilyn staggered back, panic flaring. She spun to run—
—but Ethan was already there.
No blur. No wind.
Just there.
"Going sowhere?" he asked, voice soft enough to be lethal.
Marilyn froze, heart pounding against her ribs as she backed away.
"You know," Ethan murmured, stepping closer, the shadows behind him crawling like they obeyed him, "there's one thing no one knows about . Not even the people who work for ."
He kept walking forward, slow and deliberate, eyes glowing with cold amusent.
"They all think I'm just a rich vampire."
"But they made one mistake."
"I'm not just a vampire."
His voice dropped, low and predatory.
"I'm the thing nightmares rember."
Marilyn's breath hitched, but she kept edging backward.
Ethan's smile sharpened—slow, cruel, hungry.
"The kind humans feared in the dark. The kind whose na alone made blood run cold."
"The real blood-drinking monsters."
He moved closer, his presence pressing in like a closing fist.
"Unholy."
"Strong enough to tear a grown man in half."
He tilted his head—bones cracking in a way no neck should bend.
"And completely, beautifully cruel."
His smile widened—teeth just a bit too sharp, eyes too bright, his whole existence just slightly wrong, like sothing wearing the shape of a man but failing to hide the monster underneath.
And for the first ti, Marilyn Thornhill—zealot, hater, killer—felt sothing cold and ancient coil through her spine.
Fear.
The real kind.
The kind that whispers.
"So tell …" Ethan breathed, "what made you think you could poison such a monster?"
Her throat seized. Not a single sound escaped.
She wanted to spit it at him—you're nothing but a blood-sucking mosquito—
but the words died before they could form.
Ethan studied her like a biologist examining a failing specin.
"I could let it slide. Let you live."
A pause.
"You're still useful to ."
Then his eyes went cold.
"But not without consequences."
Marilyn didn't even have ti to register the movent.
Her right arm twisted by an invisible force that bent bone like wet clay.
CRACK.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
A third break, loud and sickening.
CRACK–CRACK–CRACK.
Her arm folded into a shape no body should make, joints bending the wrong direction, bone pushing beneath skin.
Marilyn collapsed, screaming so loud her voice tore.
"AHHHHHHHHHH!!! STOP—PLEASE—AHHHHHH!!!"
Ethan watched her writhe, gaze flat with disinterest.
"Mark this as a reminder," he said, voice low, almost bored, "not to touch unless you have a death wish."
He stepped past her as if stepping around a piece of trash.
"Or soone capable of handling a monster."
And then he walked out—silent, unhurried—leaving her broken on the floor.
***
As Ethan stepped out of the greenhouse, he slipped the vial of Nightshade from his coat.
A faint shimr pulsed across the glass—
Recycle.
[ You have received 100 BP. ]
"Hm. Only a hundred?" he muttered, unimpressed. "Pathetic."
He closed his fist, the vial dissolving into ash between his fingers.
"I'll use the thod I planned."
His plan was simple
Just ask Uncle Mike to visit a few hospitals and quietly collect Outcast blood. Hard to obtain, yes—Outcast blood was restricted, dangerous, and heavily monitored.
But money could make impossible things happen.
It would take ti for uncle Mike to gather enough, but Ethan wasn't worried. Once he had those bags, his BP would spike, and he could finally purchase the things he truly wanted.
He wasn't in any hurry—especially now that he had Telekinesis.
Unlike DaVinci, who needed their right hand to channel it, Ethan could use the power with nothing but a thought.
[Status]
[Na: Ethan Corvin]
[Age: 18]
[Race: Pure-blood Vampire (Evolution Possible)]
[Physical Paraters:
— Punch Force: ~50 Tons
— Speed: 300 km/h
— Durability: Skin can withstand small-caliber bullets
— Stamina: Unmatched
— Telekinesis: ~10 Tons ]
[Regeneration:
— Minor injuries heal instantly
— Major injuries take ti
— Partial immortality: cannot die as long as body remains intact]
[Weaknesses: None]
[Blood Points: 1700 ]
And on Wednesday's side, victory ca exactly the way she preferred—efficient, rciless, and deeply satisfying.
Their boat cut through the water, black and sleek, leaving Bianca and her siren-polished pride sinking behind them.
Across them, Bianca stared at her with that tight, sour expression—jaw clenched, ego cracked. It was the sa face she'd made in fencing class, that sa little tremor of disbelief that soone dared outdo her.
Wednesday savored it.
Not openly, of course. Her features remained cool and expressionless. But inside, there was a flicker—an ember of satisfaction that ward her far more than the cold lake water.
Bianca's defeat was a symphony.
And her expression?
The perfect final note.
If Wednesday could fra that look and hang it on her dorm wall, she would.
Enid was jumping, cheering sothing obnoxiously bright beside her, but Wednesday barely registered it.
*****
A/N: The Patreon version is already updated to Chapter 39, so if you'd like to read ahead of the public release schedule, you can join my Patreon
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