First mission

It's 5 o’clock in the morning, marked by how quiet the house is and the rays of the sun slowly illuminating its interior. The girl is still fast asleep in her room.

"Ophilia," Josef nudges his daughter awake. Or tries to. "It's morning."

He hears no vocal response from his daughter. Just a low groan and the motion of pulling up her covers.

"Ophilia," he repeats. "Wake up. We're going into town today."

"Mmn?" An unintelligible response. She gets up from under her covers and rubs her eyes. "Oh. Right. That's today, isn't it?"

Josef nods. "Wash up and get dressed. I'll be at the door."

"Yes, father."

Her hair combed and dressed in her Sunday best, Ophilia walks to the bathroom and unwraps the bandages on her wrist. She gently thumbs the faint incisions left by her little sister’s fangs that were beginning to form a peculiarly shaped marking. Both her stepmother and stepsister were vampires; she’s the only person who holds the knowledge of this. If her father found out, without a doubt, the two of them would be killed; by him nonetheless. Such is the duty of a chasseur. And soon she would be joining their ranks. The thought makes her uneasy, causing her to rub the bite wound until it reopens and starts to bleed.

“You took long enough,” her father remarks. “I almost thought we would never leave.”

“My apologies.” A slight frown creases on Ophilia’s face at her father’s rudeness. She’s thankful he didn’t ask what made her take as long as she did in the bathroom. She follows her father’s lead out of the house and to the train station.

“Where are we going again?” Ophilia asks, taking a seat inside of the train.

“A church near the Catacombs of Paris,” Josef replies. “Your induction will be held there.”

“Right.”

“You’ll make a fine chasseur. I’m sure of it,” her father says, giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“...Thanks,” Ophilia says bashfully.

“The ride on the train will be long, at least two hours tops. I suggest you get some sleep so you don’t doze off as you give your induction speech.”

“I’ll try to. Thanks.”

Her eyes have been looking out of the window during the whole conversation. She can’t bear to look her father in the eyes when she agreed to be a member of a group that hunts vampires. What a message to send to her stepmother and little sister. She thinks about how long Lianna was hesitant to tell her she was a vampire. How she told Ophilia not to overthink what becoming a chasseur would mean to her. How she and her stepmother would continue to love her unconditionally no matter what. So much for sleeping on the ride to the church.

It’s now 7 o’clock in the morning. It’s light outside and the air is comfortable. It helps Ophilia take her mind off of her thoughts slightly. She’s quiet as she tails behind her father to their destination.

Josef turns his head to face his daughter. “You look more tired now than when we left the house. Are you feeling alright, Ophilia?” he asks, genuine concern evident in his voice.

“I’ll manage.”

The two say no more in the exchange and continue to make haste.

“We’re here,” Josef announces.

The double doors of the church creak open, and all of the eyes in the room are on the two. The many stares cause Ophilia to visibly shrink as she and her father walk to the pedestal in the front of the room.

“Everyone,” Josef continues, “I’m glad you could join me today. Today is a very special day. Ophilia, my eldest daughter, is joining our ranks as a chasseur. She’s very talented, please give her a warm welcome.”

The father and daughter exchange glances before Ophilia begins her speech. The stares of the people gathered in the pews are still as daunting as they were when she first stepped foot in this building.

“Hello,” the blonde greets the crowd sheepishly. “I’m Ophilia. Maybe you’ve heard of me from my father,” she says in an attempt to jest as she looks in his direction. “I look forward to working with you all.” She finishes off her speech with a curt bow, her bangs covering her face as her head hangs towards the crowd.

The gathered chasseurs begin to clap. She’s thankful her bangs provide covering for her face so they can’t see the sullen expression on it. Talk is cheap, especially when you allow yourself to join your father’s vampire-slaying extremist group. She felt bad for Lianna, how much of a pity it was to have such a pushover for an older sister.

Her day has only just begun, yet she was so tired. Both mentally and physically. Home was not all that far, but she missed it. She’s sitting against a tree when her father approaches her with what looks like a wooden spear. The tilt of her head prompts him to elaborate without her asking about the weapon further.

“We’re going on your first mission as a chasseur. You’ll be needing this,” Josef says as he hands Ophilia the wooden spear.

“Oh… What will I be using it for?” Ophilia asks, adjusting her grip on the spear.

Josef looks at her straight-faced, then laughs. “Have you already forgotten? You’re a chasseur now, dear. You’ll be tasked with killing vampires that pose a threat to us. Humans, I mean.”

“Mm. Right,” she replies, fidgeting in place. Her attempt to play dumb in hopes of hearing a different answer from her father failed spectacularly.

“There have been sightings of vampires in a forest not too far from here. Let’s make haste.” With a tap on her shoulder, Josef beckons his daughter to follow him.

The church exits their field of vision, and now enters a forest. It’s quiet aside from the occasional call of a bird or the footsteps of a small animal.

“See any vampires yet?” her father asks.

“No, father.”

Ophilia pauses. “Father? Sir? ...Captain? Whatever do I call you?” she asks, looking visibly flustered.

Josef laughs as he wraps an arm around his panicking daughter. “There’s no need to worry about formalities. Sure, you’re a chasseur. But before you’re a chasseur, you’re my daughter. Continue to call me father like you always have.”

“...Yes, father.”

The arm that was wrapped around Ophilia is now being held out in front of her in an attempt to get her to come to a halt.

“I heard footsteps just now. Be cautious,” Josef warns his daughter.

She responds with a nod.

The two continue to walk through shrubbery when the sound of footsteps comes closer. And closer. Until they find the source of the noise. Out from a bush appears a young girl, audibly gasping for breath and in distress.

She looks Lianna’s age… Ophilia thinks. Her eyes widen as she and the girl lock eyes. The girl’s eyes were a familiar shade of crimson, much like the eyes of any vampire.

“A vampire!” Her father yells from behind. “Ophilia! Impale her with the wooden spear I lent you earlier immediately!”

Ophilia’s mind blanks. Does she need her father to repeat what it means to be a chasseur? No. She very well knows what it is that chasseurs do. Simply put, they kill vampires by any means necessary. No vampire is to get in the way of humans, and certainly not in the way of the extremist group she is now a part of.

“Yes, father,” she replies, raising the wooden spear up to the girl’s neck.

Her hands begin to tremble as she does so. The girl freezes in place and whimpers as the tip of the spear grazes her neck and blood begins to shed. When Ophilia looks into the girl’s eyes, she does not see a reflection of herself, but the image of her little sister. Her grip on the spear began to loosen, and tears began to well up in her eyes.

She felt sick to her stomach. How could people do this for a living? How could her own father execute this so calmly on a daily basis? Was it because he was ignorant of the fact that his wife and youngest daughter were vampires? Or would he kill them with his own two hands, knowing that fact? She didn’t know. And she didn’t want to find out either.

“Please…please go,” the blonde begged the young vampire before her. “I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t bring myself to hurt you either. So please…just go. Leave this place for your own safety.”

She almost sounds unintelligible through her tears, but the girl is quick to understand Ophilia’s plea. With an appreciative nod, the young vampire disappears into the woods; leaving Ophilia and her father alone.

She falls to the ground, the wooden spear making a loud thud as it collided with the forest floor. Head spinning, eyes teary, and breathing heavy, Ophilia is unable to move. She wanted out of being a chasseur. There was no way she could spend the rest of her life harming innocent vampires, even if it was technically what was the right thing to do in terms of societal norms. If killing vampires, her stepmother and little sister’s kind, was right, then she wanted to be wrong. Oh so very wrong.

She began to hear footsteps. She meekly swivels her head in the direction of the sound and is met with the sight of her disappointed father. Ophilia averts her gaze to avoid looking at the scorn present in his eyes.

“Ophilia,” Josef says sternly.

No response.

He picks up the wooden spear and calls out to her once more.

“Ophilia,” he repeats, his voice growing louder.

“Y-Yes, father?” she asks without making eye contact with her father.

“You failed your first mission as a chasseur.”

No response. Again.

“Can you stand?”

“Mm.” With the nod of her head, she shakily stands up; averting her father’s gaze once more.

Josef doesn’t offer his daughter a hand, but a firm grasp on her shoulder instead. It sends a chill down Ophilia’s spine.

“This is your first time, you’ll get used to it the more missions you go on. Or perhaps you need someone other than your own father giving you orders. We can discuss it later.”

“Yes, father.”

“…I changed my mind. When we’re on missions like this, I want you to address me as captain. Can you do that? No, no. Let me rephrase that. You will strictly refer to me as captain. Are we clear, Ophilia?” he asks, looking at his daughter expectantly. It’s as if his entire demeanor has changed in the blink of an eye. She could hardly believe the words that had just come out of his mouth.

“Y-Yes, fath- I mean captain!” she replies, correcting her slip of the tongue almost immediately.

“Good, let’s get going.”

The air felt heavy on the walk back to the train station. Her body was tense as her father’s hand remained on her shoulder with a heavy hand. His words were still fresh in her memory, she was too scared to look at him; more or less start a conversation with him. She plucks the silver, circular badge off of her uniform and rotates it in her hand. The string of numbers and letters engraved on the back of the badge catch her eye. The engraving reads:

006

Ophilia.