Los Angeles defector

Nightmare

The day finally dawned, the sun lazily appearing in the distant east, shining through the burning night smoke, standing like a totem on the horizon.

On the edge of the village, a man with his bare upper body was vigorously wielding a shovel, digging a hole with effort. The morning light shone on his sturdy and broad back, glistening with sweat, casting a bronze hue, making the scars protruding on his skin even more prominent.

The foolish lad is dead, his body wrapped in a blanket, lying by the edge of the pit.

The pit was almost dug, Jason threw the shovel to the ground, wiped the sweat off his face, straightened his back, looked around at the surroundings, jumped out of the pit, and stood next to the foolish lad's body.

This foolish lad, always seeking food wherever he went, has finally met his end because of it, fulfilling his wish. Looking down at the lad wrapped in a blanket, Jason felt no sadness, not a trace of it, but rather envy. Among the Third Row, and all those who had fallen by Jason's side, the lad, though small, was happy. Having a full body, someone choosing a good spot for him and digging his grave for burial, this was a great stroke of luck. Compared to Old Blackskin lying in a mud pit, the giant who died in the wilderness, or the machine g*n brothers turned to dust in battle, the lad's fate was luxurious, almost miraculous. It seems that the God who helps those in need sometimes opens his eyes. If, the next moment, it's his turn, could he receive the same favor from above as the lad did? Jason felt despondent.

Bare-chested, squatting by the stream to wash away the mud, the clear and icy stream water soothing him, Jason felt much of his weariness dissipate. A new grave stood quietly behind him, bathed in the morning light, as Jason's figure made its way towards the small village...

Seemingly having had a dream about roasted sweet potatoes, Isabella woke up in a daze. Opening her eyes, she found herself in an unfamiliar room, on an unfamiliar bed. Wanting to sit up, she realized that her hands and feet were bound, tied to the bed, and something was stuffed in her mouth, preventing her from closing it. Isabella panicked, but after a moment, she remembered the situation before she lost consciousness.

A dark figure lunged at her, a large hand grabbing her neck forcefully, making it hard to breathe. She struggled, trying to scratch and kick, only to be enveloped by a strong arm, rendering her immobile. Eventually, she drifted into a daze, succumbing to the darkness...

Isabella desperately thrashed her arms and legs, trying to break free from the ropes and escape the predicament. Her delicate, pale hands clenched into fists, showing a hint of pale red from the exertion. Despite the bed creaking beneath her, her efforts proved futile. Inadvertently lifting her head, she suddenly froze in place as a man appeared at the doorway.

Not a vampire, but a soldier stood tall at the doorway, appearing as if he had merged with the frame, his posture steady and firm. The low brim of his cap failed to conceal his thick, black eyebrows, while his narrow eyes gazed deeply at Isabella, sending chills down her spine, as if she were being pierced through. The chiseled, slightly lean cheeks were illuminated by the morning light streaming in from the window, casting a bronze hue. A clear contrast of light and shadow accentuated his high nose bridge. Not handsome, yet exuding a manly determination and composure.

The man paused at the doorway for a moment before slowly walking in. He casually grabbed a chair, placing it almost next to the bed, and then sat down, silently surveying Isabella lying on the bed.

This made Isabella feel very uneasy, sensing danger but powerless to change anything. She tried to speak, but her mouth was gagged, producing only muffled, incomprehensible sounds that she herself couldn't understand. Instinctively, she writhed in an attempt to avoid the close proximity that made her feel awkward and flustered. In doing so, she inadvertently caused the hem of her gray robe to slip to the side, revealing a plump, fair expanse of skin.

The man seemed to have not noticed these details yet, his gaze finally settling on Isabella's face as he spoke in a deep voice.

"I don't know who you are, and I don't want to know. But you killed my brothers, and I feel it's necessary for me to do something for them."

After saying this, the man paused, leaning his sturdy back against the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze passed over Isabella, lifting his head to look outside the window beside the bed, as if speaking to himself yet also to Isabella: "He was a fourteen-year-old boy, a lucky little lad. I just buried him, right outside the village. This boy was born hungry, always searching for food his whole life, constantly searching until this morning, when he finally found the barrel of a gun."

At this point, the man calmly reached into his pocket, pulling out a handgun and placing it in his palm, weighing it thoughtfully—it was indeed Isabella's own personal handgun. He continued, "Browning M1900, a g*n for the connoisseur. This isn't something from a poor household."

After finishing speaking, he shifted his gaze away from the g*n in his hand and turned to Isabella, saying, "Spy? Officer's mistress? Or perhaps a wealthy young lady? In the dark night with the howling wind, coming to this poor and remote village to shoot—probably not a kind person, right?"

Isabella finally understood the situation before dawn. She never expected that the first person she had ever killed in her life was a fourteen-year-old child, and she couldn't help but feel guilty. However, the strange man in front of her kept speaking in a calm and subdued tone, devoid of sadness or anger. This left Isabella feeling lost and unsure of what it all meant and how it would end. Regardless, everything had already happened, and now she felt like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered, unable to do anything but struggle in vain.

This man is Jason. Before dawn, he broke through the vampire's defense line and fled north with the young lad. They stopped to rest in a small village, where the young lad rummaged around for food and was eventually shot down by Isabella at Old Chen's doorstep.

People believe in fate, saying that destiny will eventually intertwine. Some individuals foolishly yearn for this, hoping for a beautiful unknown future, forgetting about the harsh reality. Fate may bring you beauty, but it can also bring you disaster. At this moment, what the young lad and Isabella are facing is exactly this.

Jason fell silent, hesitating. Should he avenge the foolish lad? Although the other party was an unrelated stranger, she was a woman. Can a man kill a woman? It seems possible, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. If he gave her a g*n and had a rematch, it might work. But is this reality? If he could, at the moment before dawn, grab her throat, he could kill her. However, when his hand, about to choke her, touched the tall and soft chest between their arms, didn't the hand that was supposed to choke her throat also loosen? Why is that?

Jason suddenly realized that he seemed confused, his logic muddled, which was strange and he couldn't explain why. Whether as a bandit or a soldier, he always heard people talk about men and women, but Jason wasn't interested because he didn't understand women. When he was a bandit, he was too young to comprehend, and when he became a soldier, he became estranged from women. Now, with a woman suddenly in front of him, Jason naturally didn't know how to respond. It was as if all the principles he had adhered to had been overturned, leaving him at a loss.

Jason holstered his pistol again and looked up at the woman who was now close by. The morning light streamed through the window onto the bed, exceptionally soft. Was it because she was lying here? He had never been with a woman, but he had seen many. This woman in front of him, although young, was not particularly beautiful, yet somehow, she seemed quite pleasant to look at, especially her eyes. Despite being wide with panic at the moment, her beautiful dark eyes stood out even more, moist and clear, as if they could pull Jason's heart into an abyss.

Jason felt unnaturally awkward and immediately averted his gaze. However, what caught his eye were two rapidly rising and falling fullness, and the exposed fairness of a plump thigh, seemingly hinting at a beautiful mystery. Why? Her body was more strikingly graceful than all the women he had ever seen, those curves forming an invisible enchantment that completely enveloped all of Jason's thoughts. For a moment, he forgot about the new graveyard outside the village, forgot about the distant rumbling, forgot about these turbulent times...

As the man in front of her suddenly pounced on the bed like an overwhelming mountain, pressing her down, Isabella, despite being a virgin, finally understood what was about to happen. She tried with all her might to struggle, resist, evade, cry out, and shed tears, but she could not stop the arrival of this nightmare...