My Life in Wednesday With a Vampire System

Kimiko barely paid attention to Ethan. To her, he was just another stranger standing in the room. Right now the man trying to escape mattered far more.

The surviving guard stumbled toward the exit as fast as his battered body could manage. Blood covered his clothes, one hand mangled beyond recognition, every breath ragged and uneven.

"Please!" he shouted. "Please spare me!"

Kimiko didn't slow down. The guard looked over his shoulder. That was a mistake. She was already behind him.

The man barely managed to turn before she crashed into him. Both of them slammed into the concrete floor. He immediately began crawling away in blind panic.

"Please! Please! I didn't do anything!"

Kimiko grabbed his ankle and yanked him backward. His fingers scraped against the floor as he tried pulling himself free. It didn't matter. Months of captivity had burned away any sympathy she might have had.

The guard rolled onto his back and raised both hands. "I have a family!"

Kimiko's expression remained unchanged. The man's eyes widened when he saw her arm move.

Then everything ended. The blow crushed the side of his skull with enough force to kill him instantly. Blood splashed across the floor and wall before the body collapsed motionless.

The basement went quiet. Kimiko stood among the bodies for several seconds before her attention shifted toward Ethan.

Without warning she attacked. No hesitation. No questions. No attempt at conversation. She sprinted forward and grabbed for his throat.

Ethan caught both wrists before she could reach him. Kimiko immediately changed tactics, driving a kick toward the side of his neck. He released one arm and knocked the strike away before it connected.

She kept coming. A punch. An elbow. Another kick. Every movement direct and vicious, no wasted motion, no fancy technique — everything designed to disable or kill as quickly as possible.

Ethan stepped aside from a strike aimed at his eyes and redirected her arm away from his face. "Well, your combat style is more brutality than technique."

She answered with another attack. He blocked it. Then another. Then another. The exchange continued across the basement as Kimiko relentlessly pushed forward, knocking aside furniture already damaged in the earlier fight.

Ethan quickly realized something. She wasn't fighting because she thought she could win. She was fighting because every stranger represented a potential threat.

Unfortunately for her, Ethan wasn't interested in proving anything. "I'm really not in the mood for this."

As she stepped in once more, he moved behind her and delivered a precise strike to the back of her neck. Her body immediately lost strength, the tension vanishing from her muscles. Before she could fall, he caught her.

"You really are a handful." He adjusted her position and lifted her onto his back.

At that exact moment, footsteps echoed from the stairway.

Several people were moving quickly toward the basement. A few seconds later Frenchie, Mother's Milk, and Hughie emerged from the corridor.

The three of them stopped dead. The room looked like a slaughterhouse — bodies scattered across the floor, blood covering the concrete, and standing in the middle of it all, a white-haired stranger carrying the woman.

Nobody said anything for several seconds. The only sound was the flickering lights overhead.

Frenchie's eyes moved from the corpses to Ethan. Mother's Milk slowly tightened his grip on his gun. Hughie looked completely lost.

Eventually Ethan raised one hand in a casual greeting. "Yo. Fancy seeing you here."

The greeting only made the situation stranger.

"Before you start assuming things, I have nothing to do with whatever operation was happening down here. I found the place, saw a woman locked in a cage, and things escalated from there."

Nobody lowered their guard.

"And before anybody asks, my hands are clean. I didn't kill a single one of them." Technically it was true — the guards had either killed each other or been finished by Kimiko.

Mother's Milk wasn't convinced. "Convenient story."

"Believe whatever you want. Doesn't really matter to me." Ethan adjusted Kimiko's weight and started toward the stairs. "So I'll be leaving now."

"Stop."

Ethan stopped. Slowly. The smile disappeared from his face.

Mother's Milk tightened his grip on the gun.

There were too many unanswered questions, and he'd already seen Ethan's face clearly enough to mark him as a potential threat. Letting him walk away without answers felt like a terrible idea.

Ethan turned his head slightly. "Ummm. That's a mistake." The atmosphere immediately changed.

"I have a simple rule. People should talk to me the same way I talk to them. I'm standing here having a normal conversation without pointing weapons at anybody."

His eyes moved toward the gun.

"So the least you can do is show the same respect. Talk normally. Don't be a dick. And don't point a weapon at me."

Nobody moved.

Then something happened. The right side of Ethan's face shifted. The skin darkened. Red patterns spread across his cheek.

Part of his face transformed into something inhuman, rows of jagged teeth appearing where no teeth should exist.

The image lasted only a moment. A brief glimpse. But it was enough.

"Jesus Christ..." Hughie whispered, stepping backward instinctively.

Frenchie stopped smiling. Mother's Milk felt his hand tremble around the grip of the gun. Every instinct in his body screamed that what he'd just seen wasn't human.

For the first time since entering the basement, he began wondering whether pointing a gun at this man had been a very bad idea.

"Then I'll leave," Ethan said. "Next time, let's have a nicer conversation."

He disappeared.

***

A/N: And on Patreon, The Boys arc started.

The Patreon version is already updated with 46 advanced chapters. If you'd like to read ahead of the public release schedule, you can join here:

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