He burst forward, but Vincent, intent on protecting Alacard from harm, met him with full force knowing he would most likely get crushed. He focused on doing whatever he could to stop him. They met in the middle, and Mr. B’s strikes were faster and more powerful than anything Alacard could dish out. This was an adult, a well-trained supernatural being and full-grown werewolf, so he had to be careful.

Mr. B threw a punch, and it impacted, hard, knocking Vincent backward, and he saw stars, shaking his head and feeling dizzy as the blotch that looked like a blur of a shadow moved on him. Mr. B struck again, knocking him to the ground in an easy and steady blow that was much too powerful for him to stop. Their teacher was so fast, and while Vincent thought he had a slim chance, he really had none as his teacher was able to move on him and strike at openings he didn’t even realize he had. He was on the ground, and Mr. B had shifted position, dashing at Alacard.

Vincent clawed at the ground, ripping a clod of dirt from the grass and growling. He looked over at Alacard who was standing now, looking scared and confused, still not transformed.

“No,” Vincent said with a snarl. “What are you doing?” He barked. “Transform, you idiot!”

Vincent moved to his feet, an urgency pulling him forward, and he was able to counteract Mr. B as he moved on Alacard, diving into him and making them tumble to the ground together. Mr. B kicked him, and he leapt backward, landing in a crouch between him and Alacard. He turned to the punk, snarling.

“If you don’t transform now, you’re finished.”

Mr. B was on his feet and met Vincent, the two of them tussling around. Mr. B changed his movements and punched in an odd way, not like the punch he had taught them, and this is when Vincent realized his mistake, not that he was even a match for the teacher but this really was going to do him in. He was also watching his teacher’s arms, which was a mistake, leaving him wide open, and Mr. B backed off from his feint of a punch, then with a pushing motion knocked Vincent in the shoulder making him tumble backward. Mr. B was unrelenting, delivering a precise and powerful punch – much like the one he had taught them – to Vincent’s face with a sickening crunch that impacted him with full force and he fell back, and out, darkness embracing him.

The good news was that Alacard had transformed, but Mr. B moved on Alacard, and since Alacard was already dazed, he was not able to keep up with Mr. B’s quick movements. A strike and a hit, and Alacard had been knocked back against the tree again, Mr. B pinning him against it with hand against neck. Alacard looked frightened as the shadow that was their teacher’s werewolf form hovered over him and held him in place.

He didn’t finish him off, though. He simply pinned him there, a delicious smile as if savoring the moment.

“I’ve provided too much leniency on you, son,” he growled with hot and moist breath against Alacard’s face. “I see that now. It’s time to finish the job.”  

Alacard’s hands fell to the side, and he transformed back, no strength left in him to maintain it. He looked up at his teacher, a sadness in his eyes for the first time, and a defeat. He pleaded with his teacher.

“Please don’t, I-I’m sorry.” He turned away, closing his wet eyes tight as he awaited his end. He wished he had more time, wished he could be stronger, wished so many things in that moment.

“So,” Mr. B said, dropping Alacard to the ground. Alacard curled up and looked like he was going to cry. “You do have some potential after all.” Mr. B transformed back and glared down at Alacard with that same murderous intent, yet after a moment, he softened a bit as a darkness lingered in his eyes.

Alacard looked up at him, dumbfounded and not sure what to say.

“This,” Mr. B said, raising a hand and clenching it. “Is what it would be like if you choose the path of the Beast Mind. You’ll kill, devour, lust, and all sorts of things. Never really being satiated, always wanting more and more but finding nothing but pain, misery, and sadness as you bring about blood and bodies in your wake. Nothing but anguish. If this is what you truly want then I won’t stop you. But if you choose that path, son, I will not only be disappointed, I will end you.” He held his eyes on Alacard, dark and intent.

Alacard tensed his body, curling into a ball, feeling like he didn’t want to say what he was about to say, but screwing it all and thinking about how terrifying the last moment was, how he gave in, surrendered, let a little moment of vulnerableness come through.

“Fine. Don’t let me down, though, teach. If you do…”

He hugged himself tighter, hating to admit this, hating to reveal this part of him, this deep need for admiration and love of someone like a father that he never really had.

“I’ll never forgive you.”

Mr. B knelt to Alacard, his dark energy dropping as he held serene but serious eyes on Alacard.

“If you choose to stay and train with me, I promise you, I won’t let you down. But you need to stop messing around, because out there you’ll have no mercy.”

“Okay, okay, teach,” Alacard said, rubbing the side of his neck. “Way to make your point.”

Mr. B slapped a hand against Alacard’s shoulder. “You have potential, son. But you’re a firecracker. You’re unpredictable and violent and push others away.”

“You need to be more of a team player, but most important, you need to believe in yourself because doing what’s best for you is in your best interest.”

“And I’ll do everything I can to help you in that regard, but you’ve got to stay focused, because if you continue down this path that you’re going down, it's a slippery slope.”

Alacard felt a warmth move over him, seeing this man care for him, have his back. But now that he knew his teacher was joking around, or at least making a point, he was back to his old self and slapped his teacher’s hand away, even though part of him wanted him to keep it there. Maybe even get a congratulatory hug, but that would be weak to want that.

“Fine. I understand. I’ll play nice, or better. I’ll be a good little doggy for you, but you keep your promise as well.”

They met eyes with each other, small smiles crossing their faces as they came to an understanding.

“I will, son. You have my word.”

Alacard glanced over at Vincent with a bit of detest and jealousy because the chump, which Vincent still was and would always be to him, had stood up for him, fought for him, was willing to give his life for him.

“What about him?” he said with a disproving frown.

“Don’t worry about Vincent,” Mr. B said, pushing himself to his feet. “I’ll make sure he’s all right.”

He winked at Alacard. “And I’ll also keep this little conversation between us.”

Alacard made a little derisive tsk noise, then tried pushing himself to weak feet, still feeling the effects of the crazy showdown that had just happened. He staggered and leaned against the tree, holding his head.

“Here,” Mr. B said, tossing him another one of those glass vials with the glowing purple liquid in it.

Alacard snatched it and gave a toothy smile.

“Oh joy, my favorite thing.”

He popped the top off the vial and stared at it with disgust.

“I love this stuff.”

Then downed it in a voracious manner, feeling its recovering effects boost his own abilities as quickly as it moved down his throat.

“Yuck,” he said, wiping his mouth of some of the liquid.

“Don’t be telling anyone about those vials,” Mr. B said with a playful grin.

“Or I’ll have to kill you.”

Alacard chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. I won’t.”

“Oh, and don’t go blaming me if you get an upset stomach or headache from it,” Mr. B said.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Alacard said with a chuckle, remembering the last time he drank that crap and how it made his stomach turn.

Still, he preferred being fully healed at the cost of a stomachache any day.

“I always blame you.”

Mr. B smirked and moved to Vincent, and Alacard felt a tinge of envy at how Mr. B looked at Vincent.

“Hey, uh, teach?” Alacard asked.

Mr. B was leaning over Vincent, then turned his head to Alacard.

“Yeah?”

“I expect you to train me to be the best damn werewolf there is, you got it?” There was liveliness to Alacard, a confident and toothy grin crossing his face.

Mr. B simply nodded, holding his eyes on the boy for a moment. And with that, Alacard made his leave, giving a little wave as he did.

.           .           .