The Reckoning at Duskwither Hollow
There’s an old saying in 4EverMore: You can run from the Day, but the Night won’t always hide you.
Duskwither Hollow was the perfect place for vampires to nest—deep within the labyrinth of the Bloodwood Forest, where the trees grew so thick that not even moonlight could slither through. It was a haven of eternal darkness, untouched by the sun for centuries.
A sanctuary.
A stronghold.
A graveyard waiting to happen.
Because tonight, the Day Walkers were coming.
And they weren’t here to talk.
Lucian Vale stood at the edge of the Hollow, a gloved hand resting on the hilt of his blade. The ancient trees whispered around him, warning of the horrors lurking ahead. He smirked.
Horrors? Please.
Behind him, the Day Walkers assembled, cloaks fluttering like the wings of death itself. They were only six strong tonight—six against hundreds.
Selene cracked her knuckles, already impatient. “You sure we’re not walking into an ambush?”
Lucian chuckled, eyes gleaming in the dark. “Oh, Selene. We are the ambush.”
And with that, they moved.
The first strike came as a whisper.
A single arrow, dipped in liquid sunlight, slicing through the gloom—thunk. A vampire perched high in the trees let out a strangled cry before his body disintegrated into glowing embers.
Then, all hell broke loose.
Vampires swarmed from the shadows, snarling, fangs bared, claws gleaming. They thought they had the numbers. They thought they had the home advantage.
They thought wrong.
Lucian moved like a storm, his twin blades carving through undead flesh with ruthless precision. A vampire lunged—he twisted, ducked, and drove a stake through its heart without breaking stride.
Selene fought beside him, all sharp edges and wicked grins, her daggers flashing silver in the dark. She danced between her foes, slashing tendons, severing heads, laughing as another one fell at her feet.
“I thought these things were supposed to be scary,” she taunted, kicking a pile of ash aside.
A vampire roared, charging straight at her.
Lucian’s blade caught it mid-air, cutting through its chest like butter. He exhaled, unimpressed. “Maybe they just had better PR.”
They pressed forward, tearing through the nest, every strike bringing them closer to the heart of the Hollow.
Then, the ground trembled.
A low, guttural snarl echoed through the trees, and the Night Stalkers parted.
Through the carnage stepped Veylan the Undying—a vampire so old that his skin was etched with blackened veins, his eyes molten gold, his presence like a nightmare given form.
Lucian grinned. Finally, a challenge.
Veylan spread his arms, shadows curling around his fingertips. “Day Walker,” he purred, voice laced with venom. “Do you truly think you can erase the dark?”
Lucian tilted his head. “Erase? No.”
He lunged.
The battle was ferocious—light against shadow, steel against fang.
Veylan was fast, impossibly so, dodging Lucian’s strikes with the ease of centuries of combat.
But Lucian wasn’t just a swordsman.
He was a Day Walker.
And the Dawn lived in his blood.
The moment Veylan’s claws scraped against his skin, the vampire screamed.
Smoke rose where their bodies met, Daylight burning through the creature’s ancient flesh.
Veylan staggered back, snarling, but Lucian was already there—driving his blade straight through the vampire’s heart.
Light exploded from the wound.
Veylan gasped, eyes wide, mouth parting as if to curse him one last time—
But then he crumbled, his body reduced to nothing but glowing embers.
Silence fell over the Hollow.
Lucian exhaled, flicking blood from his blade.
Selene leaned against a tree, panting. “Remind me to never bet against you.”
He shot her a smirk. “I’d say ‘wise choice,’ but I do enjoy taking your money.”
The Day Walkers stood amid the ashes, the last remnants of the nest dissolving in the night breeze.
Duskwither Hollow was cleansed.
And tomorrow, the sun would rise over this place for the first time in centuries.
The darkness had ruled long enough.
The Day had come to claim its due.
⚫🕊️
