John hadn't even been out for a reason. Maybe to see the monster Venom again, and give him a true piece of his mind. Since becoming a vampire, it had been easy enough to embrace. Letting go of his old life, moving from the light to darkness. But he thought too much, he had never been swift in understanding. He fell back on old habits, instead of embracing and seemingly touchless, like his sibling and sire. And for a savage like Venom to scold him like a child, for turning his back on his entire old life... that had stung John's core.
"Please, God, protect me." The whimper was earnest. Even for a simpleton, it was real. It annoyed John greatly, but he let himself lash out at the people who caused the annoyance. She wouldn't have spouted off like that if they hadn't scared her into doing it. He'd watched the blood and violence with bare note rest until blood weighed heavy in the air from her companion, and she'd fallen out of desperation instead of injury.
He still didn't know why. It was laughable for a vampire to embrace God. If he had been good, and he was sure logically, and through memory, that he had always tried to be good, even as a rebellious youth. He'd not been the best example of effect, but he had always been earnest in his faith. He was earnest in his faith now, though it had been transferred to a different maker.
He held two men, one in each hand. Gazing down at her, smelling the terror from her and blood from the others, his instincts were clear. Kill, and feed, then kill. But she spoke His name again and it hit the trigger, the reaction deep inside that he was barely aware of, and as much subject to as he was his new creator's will.
Why was a beast so capable of carnage, like Venom, able to judge him? Ruin his moment of glorified violence? How could the thing that served him victims on a platter turn and mock him for wanting to kill this pathetic creature?
"God saves no one, fool. Do you see God here?" He seethed, snapping one of her attacker's necks with a violent twist of his hand, the nails digging in so the newly dead blood gushed from the throat.
He took a step forward, dragging the corpse and unconscious body with him effortlessly. The girl shrank and cowered, and he threw the dead man at her feet, reaching out slowly with his bloodied hand, baring fangs that had ripped at one man's neck, but hadn't sank into. If he had fed yet, he would not have hesitated to continue the feast on her. Instead he intended to prove to her that no angels came from the sky, no hand reached out to her. There was surviving evil and carnage, and embracing one's own abilities. John had a protector and ruler he would happily live and die for, and it wasn't her God, or Venom's.
"Leave." The word was spat, and sent the girl fleeing after she registered the meaning over the tone. John watched her go, then dropped the corpse, lifting the body of his unconscious victim and studying it. The thirst for blood and battle enflamed him, but so did the situation, and he was caught in between.