Directly in front of Oliver's face, his eyes meet the gaze of a familiar man. The man is none other than Nelson. With a malicious smirk playing on his lips, Nelson's piercing stare locks on Oliver's eyes. Slowly, Oliver's gaze drifts to Nelson's arm.

     As Oliver glances at Nelson's forearm, an excruciating pain rips through his back, eliciting a blood-curdling scream. Oliver's cries reverberate through the room as he gasps for air, his breath ragged and panicked. The torment intensifies, and he begins to feel warm liquid dripping down his spine, staining the floor beneath him.

     With a chilling calmness, Nelson withdraws the blade from Oliver's back, causing another wave of agony to wash over him. Oliver's wails echo through the room, blending with the sickening sound of blood gushing from the fresh wound, pooling on the floor below. Nelson grins as he proudly reveals the knife to Oliver, relishing in the anguish he has inflicted.

     Oliver's eyes widened in shock and horror as he beheld his blood staining the blade, the crimson drops trickling from the tip. Oliver took a deep breath, trying to steady his trembling body. But, it only carried an overwhelming sense of anxiety that gripped his entire being.

     Nelson chuckled, fueling a transformation within Oliver. Startling fear gave way to a blazing wrath that surged through his veins. Oliver's fist lashed out, connecting solidly with the side of Nelson's face. Oliver then yelped as he swiftly rose to his feet and dashed away, his heart pounding.

     Nelson's gaze bore into Oliver with a piercing glare, furrowing his eyebrows. Swiftly, he also stood, wasting no time in pursuing Oliver. Nelson's relentless pursuit closed the distance between them, his hands closing around Oliver's back, preventing any further escape.

     Nelson reaches for Oliver's shoulder, forcefully spinning him around. Swiftly, he delivers a devastating blow, plunging the knife deep into Oliver's chest. The blade remains embedded, an ominous presence within Oliver's body, as Nelson shoves him forward.

     A shrill yelp lifts off Oliver's mouth, morphing into a gut-wrenching scream as intense pain stings through his chest. It feels as if a bolt of lightning has struck his very core. The force of Nelson's push propels Oliver backwards, his back colliding with the wall, jarring his entire body. Groaning, Oliver clutches Nelson's wrist, desperately attempting to pry the knife from his pierced pectoral.

     Nelson mercilessly pins Oliver against the wall, exerting pressure as he drives the knife deeper into Oliver's chest. Cold metal slices through flesh, piercing with a chilling precision. Each agonizing moment envelops Oliver's senses, the pain permeating every inch of his skin. Tears stream down his face as he cries out, his anguished voice echoing in the room. Oliver's trembling knees gradually succumb to weakness, their strength waning as he slides down the wall, his back leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

     Oliver crumples to the floor. Agony seizes him, causing low moans to escape his lips as his brows furrow. The knife remains firmly lodged in his chest. Despite the torment, Oliver musters the strength to maintain eye contact with Nelson.

     Nelson's piercing glare bores into Oliver's vulnerable gaze. With a subtle tilt of his head, Nelson cruelly twists the blade embedded in Oliver's chest, further tormenting his already ravaged body. A searing screech erupts from Oliver's throat, reverberating through the room as his cry of pain fills the air. Tainted by the injury, blood trickles from his mouth, staining his lips. Oliver's eyes squeeze shut, unable to bear the excruciating pain any longer, his voice reduced to a series of loud moans that echo through the room.

     Swiftly, Nelson wrenches the blade free from Oliver's chest, causing a gush of blood to spray out from the deep wound. The once pristine silver fabric of Oliver's clothes now bears the maroon-red stains of his life force. Oliver groans loudly, mingling with his anguished cries as tears fall down his face. The weight of his head becomes an unbearable burden, and the unsettling taste of blood escaping from his mouth accompanies his haggard breaths.

     Nelson, revelling in his sadistic delight, brings the knife closer to Oliver's face, trying to frighten him. His smirk transforms into a sinister grin, concealing the malicious thoughts that dance behind his eyes, glinting with a macabre satisfaction. Refusing to succumb to terror, Oliver grabs Nelson's wrist, desperately trying to keep the menacing blade at bay. The weight of his eyelids becomes overwhelming as his vision blurs and fades, and his glare slowly softens.

"...P-please..." Oliver pleaded, tears dripping from his eyes.

"...You're a Podeshire, right?" Nelson asked, slightly grinning.

Confusion and fear mingled in Oliver's mind as he struggled to comprehend Nelson's words. "Huh...?" Oliver stammered.

     In the meantime, Joel walks across the room, glaring at Oliver. His footsteps echo as he approaches a nearby cabinet. Coming to a halt, Joel swiftly pulls open the drawers, revealing a chilling sight. Two rifles, each adorned with gleaming bayonets attached to their barrels, rest patiently, waiting for their purpose to be fulfilled.

     Joel grabs one of the rifles, and the sharp bayonet catches the light as it casts an intimidating glint. He then retrieves bullets from the drawer and begins loading the weapon. Throughout the process, Joel's eyes remain fixed on the unfolding conversation between Oliver and Nelson, listening to every nuance and exchange.

"Didn't you Podeshires descend from a man and a kean?" Nelson taunted. "Don't keans drink blood like vampires? Doesn't that make you a bloodsucker?" Nelson leaned in closer, his face contorted with a malicious smirk.

     Oliver's spirit has drained, leaving him no will to respond, his blank stare fixed on Nelson. Nelson's fiendish giggles reverberate through the air as he sadistically licks the blade of the bloodied knife, accentuated by the taste of Oliver's life essence. A shiver of sharp ice rushes through Oliver's veins, elevating the grip of terror that clenches his entire being. His teeth grind together with fear and suppressed disgust.

"...You're the real bloodsucker here since you enjoy indulging in other people's blood," Oliver retorted.

Nelson's smirk widened, and an unsettling glimmer sparked in his eyes as he swallowed Oliver's blood. "Maybe," he giggled.

"...Maybe it's not only blood you enjoy 'sucking' on."

     Nelson's eyes widen, his face frozen in a momentary state of shock. Oliver's unexpected remark leaves him momentarily speechless, rendering him motionless. But as understanding dawns upon him, Nelson's expression contorts with anger, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration and rage. Flustered, he ruthlessly punches Oliver in the jaw.

"No!" Nelson struck his fist against Oliver's jaw. In a burst of anger, Nelson's voice rang out as he yelled. "It's you, Podeshires, who're the real bloodsuckers here!"

     As Nelson drew the blade, ready to strike Oliver's neck, adrenaline hastened through Oliver's veins. Reacting swiftly, he reached out, clamping down on Nelson's wrist. With a burst of strength, Oliver wrestled the knife away from his throat, the tension in his palm causing a slight tremor. Oliver's agitation simmered beneath the surface, concealing every glimmer in his eyes.

"...If that's what you believe, then," Oliver huffed.

     Oliver's left palm summoned an icy chill that bit through Nelson's wrist like a frozen blade. Nelson yelped as his hand rapidly transformed, his flesh taking on an eerie ink-black hue, consumed by the relentless coldness that swallowed his blood. His knife slipped from his grip, clattering to the floor as he shrieked.

     As his rage overflowed, Oliver lunged forward and grabbed Nelson's collar, yanking him up from the floor. A feral snarl escaped Oliver's lips as his sharp incisors sank into the exposed flesh of Nelson's neck. Oliver's teeth penetrated the soft flesh, and the metallic taste flooded his thoughts as he drank Nelson's blood like a glutton.

     Nelson screamed, his pupils contracting in sheer agony. He squirmed and writhed, desperately attempting to push Oliver away. However, the vengeful determination of Oliver's grip held him firm. There would be no escape from the retribution that Oliver sought to enact upon his tormentor.

     Piercing screams assaulted Joel's senses, jolting him from his reverie. Startled, he shifted his gaze towards Oliver and Nelson, where he witnessed Oliver biting Nelson's neck. Startled, Joel swiftly racked the slide of his gun and aimed at Oliver.

     Oliver's teeth drilled deeper into Nelson's neck. The room became a chaotic battleground as they thrashed about, their bodies entangled in an uncontrollable struggle. Joel's gaze remained fixed on the frenzied spectacle, his focus shifting between the two men as they moved haphazardly.

     Despite his best efforts, the erratic movements made it impossible for Joel to find a clear shot at Oliver. The risk of hitting his team member loomed ominously, causing Joel to hesitate, his finger poised on the trigger. He held his breath, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, knowing the stakes were high.

     Finally, Joel's aim zeroed in on Oliver's bleeding back. His hand remained steady as his finger applied gradual pressure to the trigger. A blaring blast shattered the room, and the sound bounced off the walls, marking Joel's action.

     Oliver's eyes widen in realization, his body freezing in place. His trembling knees threaten to give way as his jaw hangs slack. With a gradual release, Oliver relinquishes his bite as he looks at Nelson.

     Nelson stands still, his expression blank as he locks eyes with Oliver. His face betrays no emotion, but his eyes widen, revealing a mix of shock and resignation. Slowly, Nelson lifts his left arm, and a crimson geyser erupts from the side of his torso. His final breath escapes him in a huff, and his body collapses.

     Oliver gasps as he glances at Joel. The two men's eyes meet, locked in a tense and heavy silence. The air surrounding them thickens with the weight of their actions as they stare at each other.

     Joel freezes in disbelief. His hands tremble as his glare hardens, fixated on Oliver. Joel gnashes his teeth, quickly attempting to aim the rifle at Oliver.

     Quickly, Joel's finger clicks the trigger, but the rifle only emits a hollow snap, failing to discharge a bullet. Frustration wells up within him as he tries again, but the weapon remains silent. Grunting, Joel lowers the gun, his smouldering gaze locked on Oliver.

     A heavy breath streamed through Oliver's bloodied mouth as his brows furrowed. Sensing the tension, Joel emitted a resigned sigh, his grip tightening around the rifle's bayonet. The glimmering blade caught Oliver's widened eyes, capturing his attention in a moment of dread. Suddenly, Joel sprung forward, bolting towards Oliver with relentless speed.

     A sharp gasp becomes lodged in Oliver's throat as the bayonet plunges mercilessly into his lower abdomen. Blood spews from his mouth as Joel forcefully shoves him across the room. Oliver's back collides with the sturdy wall, the impact pinning him in place. Agonizing pain radiates from his gut, constricting his breath, while his vision blurs into a haze. Amidst the turmoil, a gurgling groan escapes Oliver's lips as blood surges past his tongue.

     The bayonet slices deeper into Oliver's flesh, eliciting grunts of pain. Yet, fueled by faith, his heart continues to burn with determination. Clinging to the rifle, Oliver's eyes meet Joel's gaze, leering at him as he grits his teeth. Summoning his remaining strength, Oliver delivers a resolute blow, launching his legs forward and thrusting a forceful kick into Joel's stomach.

     The impact of Oliver's kick sends Joel across the room, hurtling him towards the armoury cabinet. Colliding with it, the cabinet shudders, and its contents spill out, cascading onto Joel's prone form. Groaning in pain, Joel finds himself buried beneath the collapsing planks and debris, temporarily immobilized by the weight of the fallen armoury.

     With a swift but deep breath, Oliver clenches his teeth and yanks the bayonet from his abdomen, then a surge of blood gushes forth as a cry of anguish tears from his lips. The rifle slips from his grasp, clattering to the floor as he clutches his grievous wound. He screws his eyes shut as his screeches reverberate through the room, consumed by excruciating pain.

     Joel swiftly rises from the floor. He hurriedly retrieves another rifle from the cabinet. Quickly, he loads a bullet into the weapon, and the metallic click of the mechanism echoes in the tense air. Joel swiftly slides the rack into place, readying the gun for action.

"...What now, Podeshire? You no longer have any weapons to fight off with..." Joel's voice oozed as he aimed the rifle directly at Oliver's head.