Vincent blinked as Mr. B bent over him, his voice fading in and out and becoming clearer with each passing moment.

“Ugh, what happened?” Vincent said, looking around, his voice a bit panicky at seeing Mr. B and no Alacard. “Ah, no. Please don’t!”

“Calm yourself, son,” Mr. B said, placing a hand against his shoulder. “It was all a show. I needed to knock some sense into Alacard.”

“Well,” Vincent groaned, trying to get up. “Where is he?”

“He’s fine,” Mr. B said, softly pushing Vincent back down, which wasn’t too difficult as Vincent had exhausted himself.

And Vincent was fine with that, so just let himself lay back, wanting nothing more than to just close his heavy eyes and sleep forever.

“He went home, which is what you need to do now too.”

Mr. B pulled a protein bar with the words Magician’s Friend on it, unwrapped half of it and placed it in Vincent’s mouth. “Eat.”

Which he did, chomping it down and swallowing quickly, his eyes big.

“What is this?” He took another bite, feeling the effects of it kick into gear moments after he swallowed. While it wasn’t as effective as that purple liquid, it still invigorated him.

“Magician’s Friend bars are a popular supernatural snack to help rejuvenate aura,” Mr. B said. “They help you regain your strength, particularly your magical aura, which all supernatural beings have in some shape or form. They are particularly effective for magicians.”

“Okay,” Vincent said, munching down the rest of the bar.

While Vincent was weary and mentally worn out, feeling like some sort of heavy weight was holding him down, he felt slightly better from the bar. His body was tight, sore all over. Still, the Magician’s Friend did help him gain some clarity and strength enough to move fine.

“Will you be all right getting yourself home, son?”

Vincent nodded. “Yeah.” He grunted with considerable effort as he sat up, taking a moment to lean against his knees. He looked up at Mr. B whom had stood at this point. “You gave us quite the shock.”

Mr. B extended a hand and helped him up. “Sometimes a shock is needed. And in this case, effective.”

“Oh yeah?” Vincent said, not looking convinced.

“Yeah,” Mr. B said, clapping his shoulder. “Now, run along son, you deserve some rest.”

Vincent nodded, and made his way to leave.

Mr. B watched him leave, then peered up at the big, bright moon, admiring its vigilant nature.

.           .           .

Vincent and Alacard sprinted down the sidewalk side by side like two of a kind. Both had a new skip in their step, smiles on faces, rivalry in their hearts. Could they be in sync now, perhaps even friends? No, certainly not.

They were in the training room where they first learned to transform at will, Mr. B facing them with arms folded and a big smile on his face.

“While you’ve both come quite a way, there’s still much to learn. It’s time to test your agility and strength.”

“Seriously?” Alacard said, shoving Vincent just because of it, which got a glower, but they both laughed.

Perhaps they were forming a friendship.

“Why not just fight each other more? Let me pound the chump into the ground.”

“I’ll fight you anytime,” Vincent said, meeting Alacard’s eyes, sly smiles on their faces as if agreeing on this fact.

“One of you will enter the room through that door,” Mr. B said, motioning to another spot in the room that apparently had a door that led to another room because it just looked like a wall.

“Once in, I will start the process and you will have to defend yourself against random elements.”

“I love a challenge,” Alacard said, shoving past Vincent. “And since I’m the alpha here, I’m going first.”

“Hey,” Vincent said, glowering at him. “Enough with the shoving. We’re beyond that now.”

“Maybe you are, chump,” he said with a friendly smirk. “But I ain’t.”

Then, he moved to where Mr. B motioned, and after Mr. B pushed a button on the screen, another door revealed itself and opened. As he made his way to go through, Mr. B yanked him back by his collar, making Alacard flail his arms about awkwardly.

“Not a chance,” Mr. B said, standing over Alacard with arms folded. “Vincent goes first, because of that mouth of yours.”

“What?” He said, growling, then decided to let it be and shrugged. “Fine. I’m cool with letting the teacher’s pet go first.”

Vincent looked reluctant, almost as if he was hopeful to go after Alacard, so he nervously nodded and then stepped into the room. The door shut behind him, and he looked around the room. It was like the other room, concrete and reinforced, but this room was larger, more rectangular instead of oval-shaped.

On the other side, Mr. B leaned forward and pressed a button. A loud warning sound boomed in the room like some sort of alarm horn that made Vincent cover his ears and jerk in surprise.

“What’s with that?” he said, looking annoyed as he had transformed and shook off the ringing in his ears.

He could see how some loud noises could really mess his hearing up now that it was augmented.

Alacard smiled, leaning toward the screen. “What a chump.”

The lights turned off, and Vincent spun around. “Hey, who turned the lights out?”

Mr. B spoke into his mic, low and slow.

“Concentrate, son. You’re about to be bombarded.”

“I can’t see, it’s all dark in here,” Vincent pleaded in annoyance.

At least, that’s what he thought. But as he blinked and looked around, he could see just fine, almost better.

When a sound that reminded him of some sort of starting bell rang, he readied himself. He had totally forgotten that his werewolf senses made it easier to see at night, and he noticed quickly, especially after transforming, that he could see the room, feel the room, sense the room. Some sort of sliding noise made his ears flick to attention, and something shifted as a thin hole formed in the wall followed by a little breeze and movement in front of him.

A hunk of wood from a tree that was the size of a large disc flew forward, hitting him unexpectedly.

“Ouch,” he stammered angrily. “What is this crap?”

He felt dazed for a moment, shaking his head, thinking that if he was just a human that might have knocked him out.  

He didn’t have time to orient, though. Two more noises led to two more hunks of wood flying at him from seemingly nowhere. He dodged one and got gut-checked by the other. He swung at nothing in an angry, snarling movement.

“Stupid, good for nothing…”

While he could see the room just fine, it was hard to tell where the stupid pieces of wood were coming from as there were several dozens of openings.

On the other side Alacard wondered what was happening, unable to see anything on the screen as the camera couldn’t see in the darkness. He frowned.

“What’s happening in there?”

“You’ll soon find out yourself,” Mr. B said with a playful smile. “Maybe if you listen carefully, you’ll figure it out.”  

Inside the room another, piece of wood flew at Vincent, and he twisted around, snapping in its direction. He saw it clearly now that he had calmed himself, and slashed a claw at it, cutting it into pieces as it came upon him.

“That’s right, sucker. You messed with the wrong werewolf.”

Three more swooshed into action, much faster this time. They him from all angles, sending him to a knee as one of them had struck him in the side of the head, the other two knocking him on either leg with precise power. His vision went dark and blurry. As he tried to push himself up, he heard the flinging noise again and knew it was too late to dodge or do anything.

Thunk, thunk, they came, hitting him. One in the snout, the other on the side of his head, and he was out.

Mr. B hit a button, and the lights revealed a human Vincent face down with large pieces of wood as big as a car wheel scattered around him. One of them was broken into pieces. Mr. B dragged him out of the room and propped him on a couch.

“That looks like fun.” Alacard said with a satisfied smile. “How does it work?”

Mr. B turned to Alacard with a mysterious smile.

“Enter and find out.”

“My pleasure,” he said, sauntering into the room with a confident gait.  

He moved into the dark room, transforming immediately, rubbing a furry finger across his nose with a wide smirk, his tail swishing about as he chuckled.

“Okay, let me have it, teach.”

He moved his fingers about, flexing his biceps and planting his feet, taking in his enhanced sights and smells. A noise, like the opening of some compartment, made his ears flick to the ready. He turned with a swish of his tail as he heard something make a swooshing noise, and that’s when he felt something come at him.

He remembered what they looked like, strewn about, one of them clawed into pieces, so he turned and swung. It was different, though. It wasn’t like the discs he had seen. It was more like a long and skinny two-by-four. When he had swiped at it, he had meant to cut through it, but instead put too much force into his downward slashing motion. Instead of breaking it, he had hit it on the end, effectively launching it vertically and making it spin and come about at him too fast to stop as it whacked him in the nose.

He stepped back and shook his snout, licking himself from the quick sensation of pain. It had stunned him enough to not be ready for the other two-by-fours – two to be exact – that were shot at him, quicker than the first one. All he heard was a bang that sounded like wood being hit together as they knocked into him with their long and skinny forward momentum.

They had hit him in a particular manner too. Even though they weren’t as solid as the wood discs that had knocked Vincent out, they were still long pieces of solid wood. Even if they didn’t have the density of those pieces of oak discs, they still hit hard, especially since they were shot forward with an intense thrust. The impact sent a jolt of pain through his body. One of them struck him in the shoulder, the other on his lower leg, sort of wedging him into a slight spin that made him falter and tumble to the ground in a pathetic sprawl. And he was a big beast, so when he fell, he fell hard with an audible thump and a grunt escaping his snout, snarling and snapping about wildly as if some form of prey was in his sights.

                                             .           .           .