Marc could tell that their search was thorough. There were tracks everywhere, with bodies overturned to check for signs of life. At least most of the bodies were in one piece.

Some of the men were torn to shreds. The qualities were animalistic and very much indicated a frenzied vampire. The moon being in the first quarter and the narrowness of the claw marks served to confirm his guess.

“They weren’t caught unprepared,” Marc said.

“Sir?” Murphy and Ryan both said.

“Any survivors?” Marc asked as he approached Sergeant Ryan.

The Sergeant shot a curious look at Aelred. The presence of a French Colonel was well outside the norm.

He then caught the sight of Murphy catching up, and the man was clearly out of breath. Meanwhile both officers looked right as rain, as though getting here had been like taking a stroll through the park.

“None, so far, Sir,” Ryan said.

The three privates sighed in relief, before each one said, “Sir,” before heading towards the headquarters.

Marc smiled at his second, then looked over his shoulder. They had the time to get there and back, but their walk back would not be a leisurely way, unless they picked up the pace.

“You up for a brisk march?” Marc asked.

Aelred smirked and mumbled something to himself. Neither Marc nor Murphy had any idea what he said because that language died out centuries ago.

“Let’s go,” Marc said before using his vampiric strength to jump over the wall.

“You three,” Murphy said. “With me.”

“Belay that,” Marc said. “Have them prepare witness statements.”

Marc rarely overruled the Warrant, dragging three soldiers on the verge of panic back into the fray would not do them any good.

“Sir?”

Marc pointed to himself and Aelred to indicate they had no need for a security detail.

“Yes, Sir,” Murphy said. “You heard the Colonel, off you go.”

He supposed the French had their own way of doing this. Still, his hunting teams were unique to the Western Front, since Aelred operated strictly as an intelligence asset.

They walked along the communications trench towards the main lines. It was not until they reached the main trench that he saw three men from Apples.

There was the distinct scent of lubricant on their weapons, but no trace of gunpowder. They haven’t fired a single round.

Yet their boots were caked in red mud as were their knees. This must be a particularly bloody scene.

The position certainly helped clarify the situation.

“That’s where we sent Butter?” Marc confirmed.

Murphy nodded, the strain along his jawline a sign that he was doing his best to maintain composure. Losing it in here would send shockwaves throughout my lines.

“Butter?” Alered asked.

“My detachments are named after the phonetic letters in our alphabet. A for Apples, B for Butter and C for Charlie.”

“Are you up for this, old man?” Marc asked.

Aelred chuckled, and stood up. As though by instinct, they both pulled out their service weapons.

Marc also grabbed his sabre, seeing as he had never seen his second so spooked. We may as well be prepared.

“Where to?” Marc asked.

“About three miles out, north-west,” Murphy answered.

The position certainly helped clarify the situation.

Aelred had just been seated in Marc’s office when Murphy stormed in. The man looked as though he had seen a ghost, which did not set Marc’s mind at ease.

“Sir,” Murphy said with a quiver in his voice. “You’ll want to see this.”

Without question, Marc got up from his stool and looked at his French counterpart.

“He’ll want to see this as well,” Murphy said.

“Are you up for this, old man?” Marc asked.