Crimson Dusk (Patreon)

The gunshots echoed through the abandoned warehouse, but they were nothing compared to the sound of her own heartbeat slowing. Mira Blackthorne, a rogue vampire assassin, lay in a pool of her own blood, staring at the man who thought he could put her down like a mere mortal. The burning agony of the silver-laced bullets that had torn through her chest thrilled her as much as it enraged her.

Her leather jacket, now soaked in dark red, clung to her body, but she barely noticed it. The pain was exquisite, a reminder of her immortal body, forced to feel the sting of death over and over. With every shuddering breath, she arched her back, her body writhing in a mix of agony and ecstasy. A twisted smile curled on her lips, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth.

"Do you think this will stop me?" she rasped, her voice low and sultry, mocking even in her defeat. "I’ve survived worse than this... and you’ll regret leaving me alive."

Her hand reached for the wound in her chest, her fingers pressing against the mangled flesh as she felt the slow beat of her heart faltering. She gripped her breast, feeling the dying pulse beneath her fingers. She let out a final moan, her back arching violently as she embraced the torment that coursed through her veins.

But as her eyes fluttered, caught between life and death, she knew the night wasn’t over. It never was for her. Death had tried to claim her before, but it never held her for long. Her crimson dusk would rise again, bringing with it vengeance unlike anything they could imagine.