Streets of Ravetham

Chapter 90: Blood in the Cobblestones



Bond, England, isn’t just another sleepy English town—it’s a mirage. Nestled in the rolling, mist-shrouded hills of southern England, the picturesque cobblestone streets, charming stone cottages, and ivy-clad town square mask the dark truths hidden beneath. Bond is a sanctuary for the elite, a shadowy hub where aristocrats, warlords, and underground syndicates converge under the guise of quaint English nobility. The town is fortified with cutting-edge surveillance systems, hidden drones, and agents posing as civilians, all loyal to the Duke, who reigns over the town like a feudal lord.

At the heart of Bond lies Duke Aranmore's estate, an ancient Gothic fortress that looms over the town from its high perch. Its turrets, stone walls, and darkened windows give it the air of an impenetrable stronghold. Beneath the manor, a vast network of underground tunnels and chambers serves as a refuge for the Duke’s dealings with dark forces. Every corner of the estate is fortified with state-of-the-art tech, invisible to the casual observer. Security drones, biometric systems, and private mercenaries patrol the grounds, while elite snipers sit perched in the high towers, ensuring no one enters or leaves without the Duke's approval.

But Kaelen and his team aren't ordinary assassins—they're dhampirs. Their mission: eliminate the Duke in cold blood and dismantle his influence.

Kaelen, dressed in a tailored charcoal suit lined with purple embroidery, arrives in Bond like a specter of wealth. His violet eyes radiate a faint glow as he exits the black BMW M760i xDrive, his white hair a striking contrast against the drab gray skies of Bond. As a wealthy foreign aristocrat, Kaelen immediately draws attention, though he cloaks his true intentions behind lavish spending and effortless charm. He checks into The Velvet Cloak, the finest inn in Bond, known for its Gothic charm and modern luxury. The inn itself is a fortress of indulgence—plush, with tall windows and ornate carvings, overlooking the Duke’s estate like a distant adversary.

Kaelen’s first night in Bond is one of indulgence. He dines at Le Rêve Noir, a local high-end restaurant frequented by the town's elite. His meal—a barely cooked steak, dripping in blood—is enjoyed with a glass of red wine he secretly spikes with a few drops from his blood flask. As he engages in conversation with local aristocrats, Kaelen uses his glamour, manipulating their thoughts and emotions to coax out valuable information. The Duke is revered but feared, an elusive figure who rarely leaves his estate. His guards are hand-picked, and his security, formidable. But the locals know little of the deeper, darker workings of his power.

Vanya, a slender and deadly sniper with cold blue eyes and raven hair, perches in an old, abandoned bell tower overlooking the Duke’s estate. Her skin is pale, her movements precise. She uses a silenced magitech sniper rifle, its scope specially enchanted to pierce magical illusions and detect heat signatures. Vanya spends the night memorizing the patrols of the Duke's guards, timing her shots, and adjusting for wind and distance, her trigger finger itching with anticipation.

Draven, a towering brute of muscle and shadow, poses as a laborer, repairing parts of the Duke’s estate as part of a construction crew. His jet-black hair, rugged features, and intense stare make him an intimidating figure, though his silence keeps him unnoticed. As he works, he plants caches of weapons—guns, knives, and explosives—throughout Bond’s alleyways and abandoned buildings. Draven, known for his brutal efficiency, is always ready for chaos to unfold.

Lira, the tech prodigy of the group, has short-cropped silver hair and golden eyes. She poses as a tourist, wandering Bond’s streets by day and infiltrating its security systems by night. She hacks into the town’s vast surveillance network, seizing control of cameras, drones, and communication systems. With each keystroke, she pulls the digital veil tighter around the Duke, feeding Kaelen and the team real-time data on the estate’s security. By dawn, she’s inserted cameras and bugs across the manor’s grounds, all undetectable to even the most skilled magic user.

Kell, the team’s healer, is a pale, almost ethereal figure with long dark hair, wearing a gothic-style black leather coat, concealing vials of blood elixirs and healing supplies. Kell sets up her medical base in an old, forgotten cottage on the outskirts of Bond. She plays the role of an herbalist, a wandering healer in the eyes of the townsfolk, but hidden beneath the floorboards are blood packs and enhanced healing potions mixed with rare herbs and powerful blood magic. Kell revels in her role feeding off wandering souls to keep her strength up.

Day 2

Kaelen, having solidified his cover, spends his second day observing the town’s rhythms from the town square. He frequents local merchants, charming them with small talk and subtle manipulations, leaving their minds clouded and confused after every interaction. He tips lavishly, using his wealth to deflect suspicion. The locals—attracted to his aristocratic allure—spill secrets unknowingly. Through them, Kaelen learns of deliveries to the Duke’s estate, changes in guard shifts, and the general unease surrounding Duke Aranmore's increasing isolation.

At night, Kaelen meets with his team through encrypted comms. Vanya relays the guard patterns she’s observed, timing her future shots with ruthless precision. Draven reports his weapons stashes, ensuring every angle of the town is covered in case they need to blow their way out. Lira, always cool and detached, continues to monitor the estate's security systems, while Kell sharpens her scalpels, eagerly awaiting the carnage to come.

Day 3

Kaelen dresses for the occasion—an all-black tactical suit enhanced with enchanted armor that allows him to blend into the shadows. His soul weapon, a gun that appears in his hand at will, hums with dark energy. He slips out of his inn under the cover of darkness, moving with the grace of a predator as he makes his way to the Duke’s estate. His nanite companion, Nexus, cloaks him in invisibility as he scales the walls, his movements unnaturally quiet.

Two guards patrol the outer wall. With a flick of his wrist, Kaelen summons his soul weapon, a sleek, dark gun forged from his own essence. The gun requires no bullets—it feeds off his blood. In one fluid motion, Kaelen fires two silenced shots. The bullets pierce the guards’ skulls, and their bodies crumple to the ground, lifeless before they can scream.

Vanya, from her bell tower perch, watches Kaelen's every move through her rifle’s scope. A guard rounds a corner too close to Kaelen, and without hesitation, Vanya pulls the trigger. The silenced shot drops the guard, blood pooling beneath him. Vanya smirks—this is the hunt she lives for.

Inside the estate, Kaelen uses his supernatural speed and agility to dart through corridors, Nexus disabling security systems as he moves. Lira, from her van, guides him through the manor, her fingers dancing across keyboards as she shuts down alarms and locks down security.

Draven stands watch near the estate’s perimeter, his eyes scanning for any sign of trouble. His hulking frame is hidden in the shadows, ready to crash through any obstacles if needed. His veins pulse with dark energy, anticipation brewing for the inevitable chaos.

Kell waits, cloaked in shadow, ready to move in if needed. Her blood-based elixirs are prepared, and her medical tools are sharp, ready to patch up her team if things go south.

Kaelen reaches the Duke’s chambers. The Duke sits by the fireplace, ancient and frail yet brimming with dark magic. He senses Kaelen’s presence, summoning dark energy as protection. But Kaelen is faster, more brutal. He fires his soul gun, each shot infused with Kaelen’s blood, tearing through the Duke’s magical barriers. The Duke’s counterattacks are swift—bolts of dark magic fly through the air, but Kaelen dodges with inhuman reflexes. In a brutal final strike, Kaelen fires a fatal shot, the bullet exploding through the Duke’s chest. Blood splatters across the ornate chamber, the Duke’s body slumping into the chair, life draining from him.

Kaelen wipes the blood from his hands, eyes glowing in the dying light of the fire.

Day 4

At their safehouse, the team regroups. Aeliseth, their handler, conducts a debrief through a virtual call, her image flickering on the screen. She praises their success—efficient, brutal, and clean. The Duke is dead, his influence shattered.

Kaelen, Vanya, Draven, Lira, and Kell pack their gear, leaving Bond as quietly as they arrived. The town will never know who truly dismantled its dark heart.


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