| “ | History prefers legends to men. It prefers nobility to brutality, soaring speeches to quiet deeds. History remembers the battle, but forgets the blood. However history remembers me before I was a President, it shall only remember a fraction of the truth...
— Abraham Lincoln
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” |
Abraham Lincoln is a fictionalized version of the real-life American President that serves as the titular protagonist of the novel Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter and its film adaption, and a supporting character in The Last American Vampire. Having learned of the vampire threat at a young age, Lincoln dedicated his entire life to fighting a secret war against the undead menace threatening America.
Lincoln learned of the existence of vampires at a young age from his father, Thomas, who explained that both his grandfather (also called Abraham Lincoln) and his mother, Nancy, were killed by vampires. The young Lincoln swore to kill as many vampires as he could and killed the one responsible for the death of his mother a year later.
In 1825, Lincoln tried to stop a vampire attack and was almost killed in the process, only to be saved by Henry Sturges, a good vampire. Henry became a mentor to Lincoln afterward, teaching him how to hunt evil vampires and giving him targets to exterminate. As a young adult, Lincoln learned that Southern vampires were using slaves as a food source and became an abolitionist. Lincoln would eventually quit vampire hunting to focus on his political career, was elected a term in the U.S. House of Representatives, and married Mary Todd.
In 1857, Henry summoned Lincoln and fellow vampire slayer William Seward to New York City and warned them that the Southern vampires were planning to instigate a civil war so they could enslave all of America. Lincoln would go on to successfully run for president three years later, triggering the American Civil War. During the Civil War, Lincoln announced the Emancipation Proclamation, only for a vampire assassin to kill his son, Willie. Henry offered Lincoln to turn Willie into a vampire, but he refused and banished all good vampires from the White House.
With the Civil War having ended in a Union victory, the evil vampires fled America. Lincoln would attend a play at Ford's Theater where he was assassinated by the vampire John Wilkes Booth. Deciding that Lincoln was too interesting to die, Henry turned Lincoln into a vampire. Although the former president was initially horrified at his new undead state, even attempting suicide, he came to accept it and would continue to assist Henry in killing evil vampires. Lincoln eventually grew tired of killing and would settle down on a farm where he would live off the blood of the cattle he raised.
Battle vs. Blade (Film Trilogy) (by Oshbosh)[]
No battle was written.
Winner: Abraham Lincoln (Vampire Hunter)
Expert's Opinion[]
To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.
Battle vs. Franklin D. Roosevelt (FDR: American Badass!) (by Lasifer)[]
No battle was written.
WINNER: TIE
Expert's Opinion[]
The warriors were tied, as FDR's limited mobility was balanced by his superior technology, while Lincoln's greater physical strength was offset by his less advanced weaponry.
To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.
Battle vs. Gabriel van Helsing (by MovieStuff65)[]
The Vatican is quiet, eeriely so. The morning dew and fog clouds most of the ancient buildings, with the sun winking on the city from behind the cover of clouds. A single rider, covered in black and wide brimmed hat shadowing his face, travels down the cobblestone streets. Clip, clop. Clip, clop. Dismounting, he walks into a single church small compared to others. Removing his hat, the feared killer of werewolves, giants, and even Dracula himself genuflects before the host. Kissing his thumb and making the Sigh of the Cross, he stands and confronts the priest before him.
"Forgive me father, for I have sinned. My name is Gabriel van Helsing, and it has been-" The priest raises his hands, clearly irritated. "Yes yes, Gabriel. A month since your last assignment. Come now, we have a new assignment in need of dire attention." The two men walk down the hidden passage, torchs reflecting their shadows like beasts in the night. Walking into the arsenal filled with priests and friars making new weapons, and Gabriel stands with his equipment. "So, what is it this time?" The priest smiles a sarcastic grin and chuckles. "You've got a challenge on this one, Gabriel. His name is Henry Sturges, and he's in the US." Gabriel holsters his revolver. "Don't worry, I got this." The priest raises an eyebrow. "Oh do you? Just like you handled Dracula?"
Gabriel starts a reply, but the priest cuts him off. "Ten people killed, and several more wounded. An entire town nearly destroyed." Van Helsing looks down, clearly disappointed, lets out an exhausted sigh. "Just....take some finese into this mission, okay? God bless, Gabriel." The vampire hunter gives a tip of the hat, and begins to leave the armory. As he returns to the staircase, he sees his old friend Carl. "Carl, how's going?" The friar looks up from his work. "Good, Gabriel. I can't come with ya on this one, but good luck!"
Van Helsing smiles. He looks at the Gatling Gun, spitting rapid silver rounds into a target and tearing it to shreds. "Seriously, why do I never get the good stuff?!" The priest and friar chuckle as Van Helsing begins his long journey.
I awoke covered in dirt. As I stood up and brushed the dust and dirt off ot my suit, I realized suddenly that I was in graveyard. I let out a single cough, and looked at what was behind me. 'President Abraham Lincoln, 1790-1864' it had read. "Surprised, Abraham?" I turned to the voice and found mu longtime friend and mentor, Henry Sturges. "Sorry it took so long, friend. Had to wait for a time when nobody would recognize you by face." I rushed at him, getting right in his face. "Why would you do this to me?" Henry remained silent, not wishing for things get violent.
"Abraham, I had no idea that you wished to not turn. However, some men are to.....interesting to die." After some extremely frustrating talking, I realized he was right. Both of us agreed that, even with a majority of their leaders in South America or their graves, that those that remained would continue to wreak havoc upon America.
Abraham put his pen down, glancing around his hotel room. He walks to the window, examining the great New York skyline. Times have changed since thirty years ago. It'd been a few weeks since he's been back, but his skills were still sharp as ever. Henry was in the city doing some recon, leaving 'ole Honest Abe a couple hours to himself. He knew his comrade would be back soon. He grabbed a couple knives, sheathing them in his coat jacket. His trusy axe was by the door, sharpened for the hunt. Finally, his final weapon.
Abraham lifts the table up with a single hand, feeling his muscles slightly heat up at his newfound strength. Smiling, he put the table down and saw Henry through his window. Grabbing his axe, Abraham walked onto the street prowling for the undead once more.
The duo walked through the streets, neither truly drawing attention to themselves. Abe did a good job of keeping his axe hidden, and nobody gave him a glance for his top hat shadowed his face. As they draw near the harbor, they spot their prey; A young harbor master and Union veteran by the name of Jonathan Grant. The two slowly approached him, not drawing attention. He was talking to a man in a wide brimmed hat, and trench coat. Sturges walked towards them, and Abraham kept sentry by the docks. "Hello. Are you by any chance Jonatahn Grant?" Jonathan looked surprised, but his comrade not by much. Henry had never noticed, but the man had a rather large crate in hand.
"Yes, and you're Henry Sturges correct?" Now it was Henry's turn to look shocked. "....Indeed, sir. You are?" Van Helsing slowly reached inside his jacket, and out came a silver stake. "Your reckoning, demon." Henry's shock turned to fear, and he sprinted away as Van Helsing thrust the stake into empty air. Van Helsing put his stake away and drew a revolver.
"Abraham! Abraham, get ready!" Abe looked to see his mentor running, a sudden fear upon his face. "Henry, what's-" Bang! A single shot echoed in the air, and Henry fell. Abraham ran to his mentor with lightning speed, but quickly saw his master's assailant. Van Helsing held the revolver in his hand, smoke pouring out the barrel.
Abraham's rage rose immdiately, and he charged at van Helsing. The speed of Lincoln surprised even van Helsing, and before he could release another shot Lincoln threw a knife. The blade cut a gash in van Helsing's shoulder, and he dropped the gun in pain. He quickly busts open the crate, revealing his crossbow. Firing from the hip, he sends a flurry of bolts at the former president. Lincoln quickly rolls behind the pillar of a gunsmith. The screams rage on as pedastrians flee in terror. van Helsing keeps the barrage up, firing in bursts whenever Abe reveals his face.
Abe sits behind the pillar, comtemplating his next action Every time he moves, a quick succession of thwacks send splinters into Abe. As he searches the environment, he spots a Henry rifle undamaged in the fighting. Lincoln quickly grabs the rifle, pulls the lever, and cracks off a shot. Van Helsing ducks behind his cover, and Lincoln sprints, randomly shooting off rounds from his rifle.
Van Helsign had no idea what to do. He had been told Henry was deadly, for sure, but never knew he had an apprentice. He abandons his heavy crossbow, as it was overheated and damaged from the rifle. He unholsters his other revolver, intent on finishing the fight. He peeks over his cover only to be staring down the barrel of a rifle. Abraham pulls the lever, and prepares to finish his opponent. He pulls the trigger...Click.
Van Helsing smiles smugly, and raises his revolver. Lincoln takes the rifle and quickly trips van Helsing. He throws the rifle aside, drawing his axe. Lincoln swings his axe downwards, but Van Helsing rolls aside. He retrieves his two Handheld Saws and swings them wildly. The axe's handle breaks like butter, and Abraham stumbles back in surprise.
Left with nothing, Lincoln watches as Van Helsing stands with his saws. He swings the two weapons, but Abraham dodges all the strikes with ease. As Van Helsing swings upwards, Lincoln lands a swift punch into Van Helsing's stomach. "Guh!" Van Helsing gasps in a breath of air. Abraham takes his opportunity and grabs Van Helsing by the throat. Using his new strength, he throws Van Helsing into the harbor. Van Helsing struggles to swim, and Abraham quickly reaches over to Henry.
Lincoln saw the life leave Henry's eyes, and he quietly lets out a sob. He sniffles, and closes his eyes. "God be with you, my old friend." Lincoln then quickly leaves the scene. He spots his top hat laying on the ground, and puts it on as he walks off into the night.
WINNER: ABRAHAM LINCOLN
Expert's Opinion[]
Even with Van Helsing's additional training and experience, Abraham's past experiences allowed him to use his vampiric physical advantages without having to worry as much about their weaknesses. Van Helsing may have dominated the fight at the longer range, but Abraham's speed and endurance let him close the distance where his superior strength and melee weapon allowed him to seal his victory.
To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.
Battle vs. Connor (Assassin's Creed) (by Wassboss)[]
Chop. Chop. Chop
Abraham Lincoln wipes his brow and leans on his axe, a small log resting on a tree trunk. He had received a letter from Henry a couple of days before about a vampire that has been preying on the inhabitants of a homestead and he has been posing as a labourer at the site, helping locals with odd jobs during the day and hunting for his quarry at night. He has had no luck thus far but he persists with his mission, Henry has never been wrong before. He wipes the sweat off his face and sits down next to the stump, picking up a water flask that is lying next to his axe and takes a long swig, savouring the refreshing taste. Little does he know that he's being watched.....
Connor watches Lincoln from a tree, hidden from sight by the foliage. He doesn't trust this helpful stranger, he doesn't look much like a labourer, he looks more like a politician. Without Achilles to advise him, he has no idea if this man is a Templar but he certainly dresses and acts like one. He puts his hand on his back, feeling his bow and musket, contemplating which to use. He decides on the musket and silently takes it from where it's slung over his shoulder and peers down the sights. Lincoln has put down the flask and is standing up ready to start chopping again. Connor checks his aim again and the pulls the trigger.
BANG.
Lincoln hears the shot and immediately throws himself to the ground, the round ball ricochetting off the log and bouncing of into the forest. Lincoln peers around but he cannot see where the round was fired from. He grabs his axe and looks around for his other weapons, cursing as he remembers he had put his coat down by another tree trunk, which is about twenty feet away. He gets to his feet tentatively, his eyes scanning the area for any movement. He dashes over to his trench coat and puts it on, picking up his Spencer rifle and jamming the butt into his shoulder. He begins pacing around the area looking for who or what fired off the shot. Connor watches from his position, his suspicions confirmed, why would a labourer come armed with a rifle. He draws his bow and notches an arrow, waiting as Abe turns his head away to check out a large bush. Connor raises himself from behind cover, drawing the string of his bow back as he does and fires off a shot.
Lincoln hears the whooshing of the arrow and rolls out of the way and onto his knees, spotting Connor stood in the trees. He fires off several shots from his rifle as Connor expertly navigates the branches of the trees, dodging the shots. Lincoln changes tact and starts aiming for the various branches around the Assassin. Connor hesitates as a branch in front of his is blasted and another shot puts him off balance, giving Lincoln the opportunity to get a good shot. The bullet only grazes his shoulder but it is enough to make him fall from the branch. He does a small twist in the air and lands on his feet, raising his head to look at his adversary. Lincoln is frantically reloading his Spencer Rifle and Connor takes out his Tomahawk and throws it. It slams into the Spencer Rifle, shattering the barrel and getting wedged in the mangled remains of the firearm.
Abe throws down the destroyed rifle and takes out his axe, swinging it around as a show of strength. Connor draws his Sabre in response, twirling it around. The two men charge at each other, sparks flying as the two weapons collide. Connor manoeuvres his blade around expertly but every attack is blocked by Lincoln whose more powerful blows making Connor stumble back. This exchange goes on for a few minutes before Connor gets a lucky break and manages to stab Lincoln in the shoulder, the thin steel blade going right through and poking out of the other side, making Lincoln wince in pain and drop his axe involuntarily. Connor forces Abe back with a flurry of attacks, who can do nothing to interrupt the attacks now that he has dropped his axe. He takes out his Bowie Knife and ducks under a swipe, surprising Connor by ramming into him and taking him off his feet. He tries to stab Connor but his vision in impaired by the assassins cloak and Connor manages to wriggle out of his grip. Now that his vision is clear Abe throws a punch which catches Connor right in the face, sending him reeling back. Abe then takes out a trio of throwing knives and launches them at Connor. He dodges out of the way of the first two but the third one is too near to dodge and he instead catches it with his left hand. In one fluid movement he then flicks the blade back at Lincoln and it hits him in his injured shoulder, making him cry out in pain.
Connor takes advantage of this by thrusting forward with his sword but Lincoln moves out of the way and grabs onto his arm, twisting it up and wrenching to make him release his grip, his sword clattering to the ground. Unarmed, Connor panics and jumps forward with a flying kick, knocking Abe back and making him release his grip, allowing him to run back to where his Tomahawk is embedded in remains of the Spencer Rifle. He pulls it out of the wreckage and feels a whoosh as something flies past him, going through part of his cloak and narrowly missing his torso. He turns to see Lincoln crouched down, crossbow in hand. Connor charges at his adversary and swipes at him with the Tomahawk but his strike is expertly blocked by Abe with his Bowie knife. The Vampire Hunter then knocks his opponent back with a powerful left hook and advances with the knife, stabbing Connor in the chest before he can react. He lets out a gasp of shock but Abe has misplaced the strike and it misses his heart by a couple of inches. Connor pushes him away and draws his Flintlock, aiming it square at Abe's chest and firing, the power of the shot coupled with the close proximity sending the big man flying backwards. He lands with a thud and doesn't move, his eyes closed and his muscles relaxed.
Connor clutches the wound at his chest, pulling back his robes to reveal a deep cut in his chest. "I'll need to get that looked at by Doctor White," he thinks to himself "But first." He stoops over his fallen opponent, unsheathing his hidden blade, ready to draw it across Abe's throat. Just as he is about to though he feels a sharp pain in his right ribs and as he glances to see what it is, he is thrown away, scrambling in the dirt to regain his balance. He watches in amazement as Lincoln gets to his feet, staggering a bit as he stands but eventually managing to compose himself. "How did you survive that" he asks in astonishment. Lincoln reaches into his coat's breast pocket and pulls out a small metal box, the beautiful engravings ruined by the round shot.
"It's what I keep my bullets in," he replies "I don't normally keep it there but I did today, to stop it falling out while I worked." He looks at Connor and to his surprise, musters a smile. Connor shrugs his shoulders and slides his hidden blade out, pivoting it out into a knife. Lincoln's smile quickly disappears and he readies his own blade just in time to block a lightning fast strike from Connor. The two begin to duel with their blades but in this situation it is Lincoln who is coming out on top, his greater strength making it hard for Connor to parry his attacks. It's not long before the blade is snapped in half from a particularly powerful blow from the Lincoln. Connor has little time to recover before Lincoln grabs him and lifts him into the air, holding him level to look him in the eyes. He slowly pushes the blade into the Assassin's chest, making sure that this time he punctures the heart. He then drops him to the floor and Connor gasps, clutching at his chest in vain. Abe bends down and kneels next to his opponent.
"Who are you" he says quietly. Connor looks up at him and his expression twists in anger.
"I'll never tell you Templar" he snarls, mustering up the strength to spit at Abe.
"What is a Templar," Lincoln says confused "I am here to catch a vampire."
Connor laughs but it's bitter and hollow. "Don't joke with me old man. You insult my intelligence." His breathing becomes even more laboured and he wheezes. "Your time will come" he says "One day, one of my brothers will find you and end your tyranny" With these words his head lolls to one side and his breathing stops. Lincoln closes his eyes and raises himself up, puzzled by the strangers words. He lifts the body of the man and carries it over to some shrubbery, hiding it away from view of the villagers.
Winner: Abraham Lincoln
Expert's Opinion[]
This was a closely fought battle but in the end Lincoln managed to avoid assassination for now at least. Lincoln has the edge at long range due to his more modern firearm and up close his legendary strength allowed him to overpower Connor, who while a skilled assassin is not as suited to head on combat as Lincoln. Lincoln also had the advantage of having faced vampires who were much deadlier and more skilled than Connor in close ranged combat.
To see the original battle, weapons and votes, click here.
Battle vs. Priest (by Wassboss)[]
When he’d first arrived in DFederal, Priest had found things not to be much different from his home world. A grey drab city ruled over by a powerful and oppressive organisation was nothing he wasn’t already used to. For years he had lived in a small trailer in the blue-collar district and while it had not been a happy existence it was at least a comfortable one.
But that all changed when the VC Nation attacked.
One night he was awoken by the sounds of his door being kicked in and a group of men dragged him from his home. A man in a mask waited for him outside, one of the overlords of the city. “Your battle against Jake Lonergan has been declared invalid on fairness grounds,” the man said and with a snap of his fingers, his trailer was erased from existence. He had tried to protest, begging for a chance to regain his home but the masked man said nothing else, disappearing back to where he came from as the men who dragged him from his bed went back to their own homes.
It was from then on Priest began to realise just how bad this city truly was. With no house he was forced to live on the streets and with no shower to bathe himself he was fired from his job; nobody wants a smelly starving homeless man working for them. During the day he scavenged for any food or money and by night he grasped fleeting moments of sleep he could. After months of living like this he knew what he had to do to escape this living hell; he needed to find a battle.
Finding an opponent was not easy, however. Many of the other homeless were either too weak or too strong to make a fair fight which left only the residents already with homes as options. As luck would have it some of the residents had taken it upon themselves to try and help the homeless with money, food, or medical supplies. Despite his desperation Priest found himself unable to challenge those who lived in blue-collar or white-collar housing, knowing they could ill afford losing housing space. But now after many months of searching he had finally found the perfect opponent.
His target was a giant of a man, standing at well over six feet tall and despite his lean figure was muscular and virile. Having tailed him one night, Priest knows he lives in the wealthy district. He follows him as he walks confidently through one of the many homeless hotspots. The man stops to speak to a woman sitting in the gutter, reaching into his pocket, and handing her a few dollars which she takes gratefully. Taking out one of his crosses Priest throws it at the man, aiming it so it takes the hat from his head and pins it to the wall. The woman scurries away as the man straightens up and turns to face him.
“There is no need for violence friend. If it’s money you need, I’m happy to help you out.”
“I’m not after your money, what I need is a home,” Priest replies. The man sighs.
“I’m asking you not to do this, the people who run this city might not even count this as a proper battle.”
“That’s a risk I’m going to have to take.” Priest takes out more of his crosses and throws them this time aiming to kill. Lincoln draws his crossbow from his trenchcoated, ducking down onto one knee to avoid the crosses and firing off a bolt. Priest flips over the bolt and throws a couple more crosses while in mid-air, one of which mangles the crossbow and the other cuts deeply into Lincoln’s arm. Attracted by the commotion a crowd of fellow hobos emerges from the shadows to see what all the fuss is about forming a circle around the pair as they continue their fight.
Discarding his ruined crossbow, Lincoln draws his axe, smacking away another cross as Priest throws it. Having now run out of the projectiles, Priest takes out his own blade just in time to block a swing from the axe. The force of the swing is enough to send the knife clattering away across the ground, leaving him temporarily disarmed. The axe whistles past his throat as he backs up with Lincoln pressing forward relentlessly. “Maybe we should go and get the police to stop this?” says a nervous mustachioed man dressed in green amongst the crowd.
“Nein,” says another man with a moustache, albeit it a much smaller and lamer one. “Finally, we have some decent entertainment around here.” He laughs loudly as Priest almost slips on a pile of rubbish, narrowly avoiding having his head being split open with the axe. One of his crosses is embedded in the wall behind him and he yanks it out, flinging it at Lincoln who has to lean backwards to avoid it taking his head off. The distraction allows Priest to grab his knife from where it has come to rest. He throws himself at the former president, knife aiming for his throat but Lincoln grabs his wrist with an iron strong grip, turning the blade away. With his free hand he slams punch after punch into his side, finishing off the flurry with a headbutt right on his nose.
Priest stumbles away dazed and Lincoln moves in for the kill. Raising the axe high above his head he prepares to take his opponents head when Priest lunges forwards suddenly, his seemingly dazed state actually being a ruse. He thrusts his knife into Lincoln’s abdomen with such force it almost pokes out of the other side of his torso. The axe clatters to the ground and Lincoln lurches forward, wrapping his massive arms around Priest to hold himself up. “I’m sorry,” Priest says quietly into his ear and yanks the blade out, stepping back and letting Lincoln collapse to the ground.
Some of the crowd cheer, happy to see one of their own defeat one of the wealthy citizens in a battle. Others move greedily towards the body of the fallen president to scavenge what they can from his corpse. Before they can however a gunshot rings out and they all go scrambling back. A man saunters into the area, dressed in a sharp suit and a fedora, his face waxy. “I’m Detective Inspector Me with the DFPD Magic Division. There have been reports of fighting in the area.”
“We don’t like cops round here,” says one of the hobos, spitting on the floor in contempt. Mumblings of agreement from the rest of the crowd follows. The detective ignores them instead his attention is drawn to Lincoln’s body and Priest holding a bloody knife stood above him.
“I don’t think I have to tell you that you’re under arrest, do I?”
“Of course, officer, I only did what I had to do to get a home.” He makes no effort to resist as the detective handcuffs him.
“I wish they were all this co-operative,” the detective says. Once Priest is safely secured, he takes out his phone and calls in to DFederal General Hospital to request an ambulance to pick up Lincoln’s body for revival. With that arranged he leads Priest away and the crowd of homeless slowly disperse back into the darkness, ready for another hard night on the streets.
Priest looks out over the city from his apartment in the white-collar district. His battle has been approved by the council and it was nice to have a warm comfy bed to sleep in after nine months sleeping in the gutter. He hears the clanging of his letter box and walks over to his front door to find an envelope lying on the floor. He picks it up and looks puzzled at an emblem of a wolf printed on the front of it before opening it and reading the note inside.
I heard through the grapevine about your situation about how you have been mistreated and cast aside by the rulers of this place. What is happening in this city is unfair, unjust, and unacceptable and it’s time someone did something about it. But I need people who share my views, people who are willing to make a stand and overthrow our oppressors. If you are interested meet me where your old trailer used to be at midnight tonight. Don’t disappoint me.
Alpha
Priest looks up at the clock on the wall. 9PM. His old home was a two hour walk from his apartment so if he sets off now, he can make it in time. Grabbing his coat from the coat rack he heads out, slamming the door behind him.
Winner: Priest
Expert's Opinion[]
This battle came down to a simple case of professionalism. Priest was part of a specialised unit trained and supplied by the church in order to hunt vampires whereas Lincoln was a part time vampire hunter at best with a mostly self-taught skill set. Priest was the more skilled warrior as a result and that is why he was victorious here.
To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.
Battle vs. Jonathan Joestar (by Lunathemoon123)[]
Jonathan pushed upon the large wooden door to the lunar observator, the are most barren but for a few tables and chairs. He sported a thin slice across his forehead, mostly closed due to Ripple healing. He’d gotten into an altercation on his way up the stairs, a crazed young man had rushed him with a knife. He stopped the blade, but both had fallen down the stairs. Jonathan wounded his head, and the other had shattered his crown. And now he was here, ready to defeat the vampire lord living here. But as he looked around, his dim lantern lighting the room, no figures showed themselves.
But he wasn’t alone, far from it. While the Vampire was missing, another hunter stood hunched in the corner. Abraham Lincoln, small scale politician and part time vampire hunter, had learned of the vampire living in this mansion the day before, having tracked him down and snuck in after butchering a vampiric thrawl out on the balcony. But when he came to confront the big bad himself, he found the room empty, so he decided to wait. And after a few minutes, a tall, muscular figure carrying a sword had entered the room.
“Was this the vampire?” he wondered. “Didn’t seem like one. But yet again, this vampire did have human minions” He brandished his axe and got to his feet. As silent as a panther, Lincoln ran forwards. Jonathan didn’t notice Lincoln move up until he entered the lantern light, and by then he was within attack range. Lincoln hard, the blade aimed at Jonathan’s neck, but it was intercepted by the lantern. With a crash, the hot embers scattered across the floor, smoldering on the old carpeted floors.
Jonathan lept back with one leg, his right hand grabbing at the handle of Luck and Pluck. He drew the blade and brandished it high. “Another minion” he thought. “But this ones much stronger.” But Lincoln wasn’t letting up, continuing forwards. He closed the distance with a single stride, blade at the ready. But Jonathan met his strength, intercepting the axe with a counter parry. But Lincoln slipped the press, whipping around to Jonathan’s flank and taking a swing at the back of his head.
But the blow flew high, the blade swiping just past where Jonathan’s head was. Pushing off his right leg, Jonathan slammed into Lincoln, the blow pushing him backwards. Jonathan recovered quickly, Lincoln didn’t. He stammered backwards several feet before catching himself. Jonathan, brandishing his sword, pointed it towards Lincoln. The embers smoldered too there right, smoke beginning to emit from the old carpeting. Lincoln held his axe high. “This man is much stronger than most thralls. Hell, he’s stronger than most vampires. I need to be more careful.”
He pounced again, axe cycling through the air like a mill. Jonathan was taken aback by the strange style, but didn’t give ground. He lunged forwards with a powerful thrust, but the point was hooked by Lincoln’s axe and redirected away. A second later the blade was flying up towards Jonathan’s face, forcing him to throw his head backwards to dodge the strike. The edge left a cut across his forehead, but failed to slay him. He stepped backwards several steps, swinging wildly with his sword. But Lincoln dodged the strike, the point of the sword only just tearing his jacket.
But Jonathan soon reconstituted himself, blade still pointed towards Lincoln. “This man is fast, and his style of fighting is extreme. I need to be more assertive in my offense if I wish to beat him.”
The smoke from the rug began to rise in long grey tongues, beginning to fill the room. Lincoln was already preparing for another pounce, but Jonathan was already running forwards. Channeling his ripple through his sword, he brought it up over his head. “Overdrive!” he shouted as he brought it down, sword crackling with Ripple energy. Lincoln attempted to dodge the strike, just barely slipping the strike as the sword smashed into a table behind him, the impact of it nearly exploding it into smithereens. Shocked by the attack's strength, he instinctively swung at Jonathan's hands, the blade missing the flesh but catching Luck and Pluck a few inches above the hilt.
With a tug, the sword fell from Jonathan’s hands and rattled on the floor, blade snapped off near the hilt. But before Lincoln attacked again, one of Jonathan’s elbows connected his face, a soft crunching sound coming from Lincoln’s nose. He stumbled backwards, Jonathan taking advantage of the momentary lull in his offense to charge up an attack. Ripple crackled in his hand and he reeled backwards for a powerful punch. “Sendo Ripple Overdrive!” he cried as he threw the punch, Lincoln only having a moment to bring up his axe and defend himself.
The handle shattered from the impact, leaving Lincoln with more of a hand axe in one hand and a few inches of wood in the other. He fumbled backwards several feet, just barely keeping upright. But Jonathan was already on him, tearing towards him like a bull. Lincoln threw the broken hilt, missed to the right. He took up a stance with the remaining piece of axe, meeting Jonathan head on.
A small flame formed on the carpet. Jonathan and LIncoln collided. Lincoln swung wildly with the axe, but each strike missed. Jonathan threw punch after punch, each one pummeling Lincoln across the midsection, each punch coming with supernatural strength. Lincoln was pushed backwards into the opposing wall, ribs tender to the touch and blood spilling from his mouth. Jonathan’s fist was glowing gold and he closed in, and Lincoln was desperate. Grabbing the axe by the blade, the quiet click sounded as the trigger to Lincoln’s gun sprung out.
But got to his feet and began to take aim as Jonathan began to throw another punch. “Sendo Ripple Overdrive!” he shouted and Lincoln extended his hand, pulling the trigger. Both men fell to the ground. Lincoln was struck soundly in the head and thrown through the air, sprawling out across the floor in a heap. Jonathan fell to his knee, gripping at his shoulder. Lincoln's ball had lodged in his shoulder, blood spilling from the wound. He got to his feet after a moment, seeing his wounded foe in an unmoving heap.
He checked the man's pulse, finding him still alive but badly wounded. And he noticed something behind him, that being a growing light. He looked back at the quickly spreading flames on the floor, moving towards the two of them. Without thinking, Jonathan slung Lincoln over his shoulder and with a running start threw himself through the glass window. “This man’s going to have to answer a lot of questions when he comes to” he thought, continuing to move down the street away from the burning mansion.
Winner: Jonathan Joestar.
Expert's Opinion[]
TBW