Chapter 392: Griffin’s Past 3
Griffin buried his mother and both the siblings in the ground. He was unable to shed the tears. Was it because of his vampire’s nature now? He had heard that the vampires were not prone to emotions like humans were.
Fury simmered beneath his calm exterior as he made his way to the debt collectors’ hideout. The wooden door splintered with a single kick, his powerful strength effortlessly reducing it to shards.
The men inside scrambled to their feet, fear evident in their eyes as they took in the sight of the intruder.
Griffin’s gaze swept over the room, taking in the scene of debauchery—half-eaten plates of meat, bottles of alcohol, and a heap of money in the middle of the table.
The leader of the group, trying to mask his fear with bravado, stepped forward with a frown. "You!" he spat out.
The leader’s growl of disbelief echoed in the room. "How the fuck is this bastard alive?" he spat, his anger masking the fear creeping into his heart. "Be ready to pay for the broken door," he added.
One of the men, driven by blind loyalty or perhaps sheer stupidity, lunged at Griffin with a knife. But Griffin was faster, his reflexes honed to perfection by his vampiric nature.
He caught the man’s wrist with a tight grip, the bones cracking under the pressure before he slammed the man into the wall with inhuman force. Without a moment’s hesitation, Griffin sank his fangs into the man’s neck, the rush of blood quenching the primal thirst that now defined him.
The other men froze, their eyes widening in horror as they watched their comrade fall lifeless to the floor. The leader took a step back, finally realizing Griffin had turned into something horrific.