Chapter 34: Monsters

The rain didn’t slow down. It just kept falling, harder, heavier — each drop drumming against the windshield like impatient fingers. The thunder rolled across the empty streets, a low growl that shook the the dark sky.

Sebastian didn’t seem to notice any of it.

His eyes were locked forward, cold and hollow, as he pressed his foot harder on the gas. Eighty miles an hour. Ninety. The city lights smeared past in long, bleeding streaks. He didn’t blink. He didn’t flinch. He just drove, empty-faced — not stoic, but vacant, like staring too long into his eyes could pull you into an abyss you’d never climb out of. He didn’t slow for red lights. Didn’t care about stop signs, there was no one else on the road anyway. Just him and the storm.

When the hotel finally came into view, he pulled over, the tires hissing against the rain-soaked asphalt. He stepped out without hesitation, letting the downpour swallow him whole, his shirt clinging to his skin as he crossed the parking lot and entered the building.

The elevator groaned as it rose.

When the doors slid open, the metallic stench of blood greeted him first.

The hallway was flooded crimson.

Every step Sebastian took sent ripples through thin puddles of blood, each one glimmering under the flickering lights. The air was thick — heavy — with iron and decay.

He stepped inside.

Lucian crouched in the middle of it all — a calm figure in a storm of ruin. The bodies around him looked like broken puppets, strings cut.

He’d washed the blood off, changed into the clothes Francesca had bought him yesterday — the soft cotton shirt now feeling painfully out of place against all the carnage.

Lucian didn’t look up at first.

When he finally did, his voice came low and tired.

“How is she?”

Sebastian stopped a few feet away. “That’s a tough question,” he said, his tone flat but edged with something sharp underneath. “It’s hard for anyone to be okay after… all this.” He gestured loosely at the floor, at the pieces of what used to be men. “If you really cared about her, you’d have made her forget.”

Lucian exhaled slowly, dropping his head. He didn’t need to hear it again — not from Sebastian. But the worst part was knowing Sebastian was right.

His gaze wandered to the bodies around them — eyes still open, faces frozen in shock, fear, agony.

“Am I a monster, Sebastian?” he asked quietly, eyes moving over the corpses before resting on Sebastian again. His voice cracked slightly, the weight of the question heavier than the rain outside.

Sebastian sighed, turning away. “You’re still on that?”

“But you never answer,” Lucian said, standing up.

“What do you want me to say?” Sebastian snapped, his voice hardening as he picked up a travel bag from the floor — blood dripping from the corners. “You just slaughtered twenty-five men. You tore them apart, Lucian.”

Lucian didn’t respond. His silence wasn’t shock — it was pain.

He’d heard worse before. But hearing it from him — from Sebastian — stung.

Sebastian noticed. He paused, sighed again, and dropped the bag with a dull thud. “Look around you,” he said, gesturing to the carnage. “You can move faster than the eyes can see, tear a man in half like paper, and heal like nothing happened. Your kind feeds on blood to live. So yeah, maybe you are a monster.”

The words sank into Lucian like knives.

He stared down at his hands — clean now — but in his mind, they were still covered in blood. His jaw tightened, the memory flashing over and over behind his eyes.

Sebastian stepped closer, his tone softening. “But you know what? That’s the same as everyone else.”

Lucian looked up.

“You think humans are pure?” Sebastian scoffed. “You’re the delusional one if you believe that. We’re just as monstrous. We hate each other as much as your kind hates garlic. We destroy, betray, and still justify it. You feed on blood — we feed on pain.”

Lucian’s lips twitched, faintly. “I don’t hate garlic,” he muttered.

Sebastian gave a short, humorless laugh. “Sure you don’t.”

He crouched, resting his elbows on his knees as his eyes swept over the bodies. “You wanna see what a real monster looks like?” he asked quietly. “Look at me. I’m standing over corpses of my own kind — no guilt, no grief. I don’t even feel bad. I’d kill them myself if I had to. These people came here to abduct a girl and murder you, Lucian. They’ve probably done worse to others. They earned this.”

He rose and met Lucian’s eyes. “You, on the other hand… you feel bad about it. You ask if you’re a monster. Yes Lucian. You're a monster. But we live in a world where monsters thrive, and even so, you're more human than most of us.”

Lucian didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Every word made sense, but it didn’t make it right. There was a hole somewhere inside him that Sebastian’s logic couldn’t fill.

Sebastian turned toward the terrace, walking through what was left of the glass doors. The rain had eased into a drizzle now, soft but steady.

Outside, the pool was filled to the brim, the water a murky red — four bodies floating face-down, limbs slack, like discarded marionettes.

Sebastian stared out at the city — the silent skyline, the empty streets.

Then his eyes caught something in the distance.

A convoy.

Black vans and armored trucks rolling fast through the rain.

“Shit,” he breathed. “We have to leave. Now.”

He dashed inside, grabbed the bags, and started toward the elevator. “The feds are here. Don’t worry, I've cleared everything.”

Lucian lingered in the lobby as Sebastian loaded the car. He stood near the counter, staring at the concierge slumped behind it — his face pale, a neat bullet hole in his forehead. His eyes were still open, lifeless.

Lucian sighed. “They killed Dean.”

Sebastian glanced up. “Of course they did. You still wanna feel bad about it?”

Lucian didn’t reply. He just looked out through the rain-streaked glass — the flashing lights drawing closer, the faint echo of sirens cutting through the storm.

Sebastian slammed the trunk shut, jumped into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. “Let’s go,” he said, voice calm as ever "I know a place we can lay low"

Lucian slid in beside him. The car pulled away fast, the city lights flickering against their faces.

Behind them, the hotel loomed — a towering graveyard, drenched in red.