In the depths of this most ancient of mountains, where light dares not tread. Within the damp, dark, and abysmal caverns where shadows dance to the tune of the eternal dripping of stalactites on stalagmites. Within a large and dismal chamber. In one of the deepest of caves and upon an ancient stone slab, worn and weathered by the poundage of time, bearing etchings of forgotten symbols. There rests a body covered in cloth that’s melting under the weight of passing ages incalculable. That is my body. I have been watching it laying there undisturbed for centuries. No, I am not a ghost or spirit. Nor am I dead. Although that depends on your definition of the word. You could say that I am a vampire but I am not sure if that term applies to me anymore. Or at least I don’t think it applies to me.
But what am I?
What have I become?
What am I turning in to?
I have too many lingering questions. Perhaps Instead of trying to describe what I am at present, it would be better if I were to get a better understanding and clarification of what I once was.
In the depths of my memory, buried beneath the layers upon layers of echos of lives I lived, there are whispers of humanity. I do remember that once, I walked this earth as a mortal being. I was once bound by the fragile constraints of flesh and blood. I breathed, I felt the warmth of the sun upon my skin and pastured on the bittersweet flavors of the human experience. I was once a citizen of a civilization that is now long extinct. Deep within the recesses of my memory, I remember the grandeur and majesty that adorned the streets of a city that I once called home and a civilization that had tamed and domesticated great beasts. My people build great towering structures that defied the havens with their opulent and imposing stature. I was a son, a husband, and a father before things changed. I don’t remember much, but a memory long faded gives me a glimpse of the moment when I became prey to one of the most ancient of predators.
My memory is still fragmented under the passage of eons but I do know that much. I became something other than human. I became a feral beast in a way, a wretched being, my body twisted and contorted. I became a grotesque mockery of the human form I once had. My pallid flesh clung tightly to my bones, skin stretched taut over sinew and muscle. Hollow eyes, devoid of light, stared out from sunken sockets, gleaming with a mindless, malevolent hunger. Long, bony fingers adorn with gnarled nails, sharp as daggers ready to rend and tear flesh, with an insatiable hunger for rotten meat and dried bone. In recent times I believe you would refer to what I was as a ghoul.
My memories were fragmented, my mind was jumbled, submerged in a fog of confusion. I was a creature of pure instinct, the only light within that fog was the commands of my master. Unavoidable inalienable and exulted, every word and request that was given to me was. Every command became my life’s goal. I was willing to risk it all just to fulfill my master’s request. Self-preservation and rewards did not matter to me. I became fearful of the sun, its brilliant light proving too much for my eyes and flesh, with every beam of light that touched me stinging my skin with the sensation of a thousand fiery needles. I restrained myself to only hunt during the shade of night and under the cover of storms.
But gradually I changed. My voracious appetite that once knew no limits was no longer the same. It got revised and altered by forces beyond my comprehension. The insatiable hunger for rotten meat and dried bone as I once had faded in time. It started as a preference at first that became an inescapable addiction for the succulent satisfaction of the fresh muscle that is still pulsing with the essence of vitality. The intoxicating aroma, rich and potent wafted through the air with every bite. The epitome of indulgence, a delicacy that transcends mere sustenance. A primal allure with an exquisite taste that flooded the palate with a symphony of flavors, a crescendo of sensations. This shift in dietary preferences had lifted the fog in my mind somewhat.
The clouds in my mind parted as a glimpse of consciousness bubbled up to the surface and I started to remember parts of myself. Gradually I regained a level of clarity I hadn’t experienced for decades, perhaps even centuries. The light of the sun which was once an unbearable irritant to my existence, had now become the life-threatening bain of my days that could ignite my skin in agonizing fire in mere seconds of exposure of my bare flesh. Even fully clothed and under the cover of the shade, the sun will still find a way to cause me pain if I were to simply venture outside during the day time. Around that time I came to find out that silver had a corrosive effect on me gradually dissolving my flesh with an aggressive hissing noise. It also made it difficult for my body to heal any wounds caused by silver weapons. Never had I encountered silver in all of my decades as a ghoul due to the scarcity of this extremely rare and valuable substance. Cheaper weapons laced with silver inlays in their blades were especially troublesome because fragments of silver could get detached from the blade and embedded in the wound. This could lead to the loss of a limb or a wound that never heals. The rarity of it made it easy to avoid but this was yet another hazard I needed to be aware of if I hoped to survive in the human world for any length of time.
The connection to my master was ever present in my mind, but it was now much clearer than before. Not only could I sense his presence but I was also able to reach out to him in a way as well. Much like lighting a fire on a dark moonless night. I gained strength and resilience, my frame straightened somewhat, and I started walking on two legs once more. I started observing my prey making notes of patterns and habits. With each passing decade, my sense of self emerged from the depths of oblivion that was my mind. Thoughts and memories gained structure and purpose. Everything in my head became organized and easily accessible. I was slowly waking up from the longest slumber imaginable. Gradually my hunger for flesh became this unquenchable thirst for the ruby-red liquid we call blood. This crepuscular creature that I was progressing into was commonly known as a nocturnal Nosophoros. A Nosferatu. A Vampire.
Now considerably smarter and almost indistinguishable from humans, I could hunt for the one thing I wanted with an unparalleled level of sophistication. I knew what my prey wanted and how to give them the impression that they will get it. An illusion that would keep them entertained for long enough, until the jaws of my trap would close down on them and I would get the sweet crimson nectar I craved so much. As my thirst subsided my power grew. I gained new abilities with every new victim that I drained. Abilities that transcend the natural limits of my inhuman body. My will could be projected past the limits of my reach, a mere suggestion could become an inescapable command to any weak-willed creature within my line of sight. I gained unparalleled mastery over my physical body, able to heal from even the gravest of injuries and transform it at will using the shapes of the creatures I drained.
At one point I found myself immersed in fulfilling a task for my master, a major role in a masterplan orchestrated to grant us control and influence of society’s carefully crafted veneer of order and tranquility. I assumed a new identity, a persona carefully crafted and performed a delicate dance of manipulation and control, that knitted a web of carefully threaded networks of participants that would do all the work pursuing their own ends only to fall in our trap to ensnare the unsuspecting masterminds that controlled the fabric of society. We would have infiltrated the highest echelons of power and claimed them all for ourselves. With meticulous precision, each interaction was a step towards our ultimate goal, each move was a carefully orchestrated melody that danced to our tune.
They were all pawns in a game too grand for their feeble minds to even hope to grasp a sliver of a glimpse in. Completely oblivious to the strings that guided their every move. As I was directing them from the shadows, unexpectedly the tether that connected me to my master was severed. Like a fragile thread that unraveled in a split second. And for the first time in all of my undead life, I found myself with a newfound level of mental solitude and newly found privacy of thought.
I am unaware of what had happened to sever our connection. To my knowledge, such a thing would be impossible. Although my master had traveled to distant lands across the sea as part of our carefully crafted schemes I could still sense his presence. It was dim and somewhat blurry due to the long distance that separated us but it was unmistakable, his presence was there up until the moment our link vanished. All I could surmise is that somehow something killed him instantly, but something like that would be unheard of for someone with his abilities and resilience. I can scarcely comprehend a way to kill a creature as powerful as he was. I can’t fathom what could have killed him as effortlessly and in a mere instance no less. With our connection gone and our plans in ruins, I salvaged what I could and invited many of the participants of our original scheme to create a new kingdom in a distant land. A clouded place where the sun would only show his accursed face only a few times a year.
In time I went underground controlling my gloomy city from the shadows. Thinking that my supply of the dark ruby-red liquid would be effortless and plentiful. But my power kept growing with each new drip of blood I would consume and I kept changing, I kept growing, endlessly maturing. I became intoxicated in a different way, no longer attracted to the taste of blood alone but to the promise of limitless power it represented. This new craving rekindled my imagination, new desires emerged leading to new goals and new ambitions that bubbled up within me, my palate sought something more refined with an eerie sophistication. I yearned for the essence of life, the very elixir of existence that coursed through the veins of the most potent individuals. Those that were marked by strength itself. Those that were gifted with abilities that were uncommon in the average populous. Individuals that had a vibrant energy within their blood that I could not explain. An energy that I could only taste and savor.
The society I forged from the shadows was strong and resilient, but I intended for it to get stronger still. I created armies of ghouls and lesser Vampires under my command that would periodically torment and test the people and their city’s defenses. I had to sacrifice small villages and many valuable pawns but sure enough, people dedicated their lives to overcome the adversities I created for them. They trained relentlessly, sharpened their skills and their minds, perfected their sciences, and even uncovered ancient forgotten artifacts and learned forbidden rituals. All to increase their strength and power just to overcome the threat of the undead that I had created for them. They even dedicated their families to the cause. Committing their kids to a strict regiment from an early age, forming sacred alliances, and secret organizations just to gain a fighting edge and secure their future.
Surprisingly the results of my experimental plot were spectacular. The number of individuals with potent blood in the general population increased by tenfold in a couple of decades. And with each adept soldier and gifted Vampire hunter whose blood I drank, my power grew much farther than I ever hoped it would. But more importantly, my capabilities expanded in ways that I could never have anticipated. I no longer needed to ingest blood directly, as long as it was spilled, I could draw it to me directly and absorb it with a mere touch. Drinking one’s blood now gave me access to their mind in a similar way to the link I have with the servants and the ghouls I have created.
Their thoughts, memories, and knowledge were as accessible to me as a book in a library that I could take hold of just by stretching my arm out and grabbing it. On my command and to my design a dark mist with a reddish hue could emanate from my body, evaporating it until there was nothing left, transforming me into an enormous cloud of darkness. I could fly everywhere effortlessly allowing me to travel unseen, stretching my sovereignty to envelop an entire city, my body present in every trail, pathway, and dimly lit corridor of the city. enter any building or room completely unnoticed. With some practice, the control over my mist was perfected to the point I could stretch my will out to reach the heavens, toying with its clouds and controlling its weather.
With but a gentle touch an innocuous little cloud could be turned into an ominous raging storm with ferocious winds and thunderclaps that could tear the earth asunder. But by far the most groundbreaking development was that my dominion over the night and its creatures consolidated with tremendous potency now granting me the ability to hold tight control over large numbers of beasts and animals effortlessly. I could now share the sight and hearing of nearly all creatures under my command at long distances. Like instruments of conquest and extensions of my own will upon the land, my creatures would harmonize in a concert of domination delivering my vision of the world In an unprecedented manifestation of power and supreme military might.
In essence, I could amass an army equivalent in combat capability to around three hundred thousand soldiers strong, within a very short span of time, about a day or so depending on the environment and the circumstances. The tyranny of the Sun that tormented me for hundreds of centuries finally started to subside somewhat, my flesh would no longer burst into flames with a simple touch from a beam of light. Gradually I gained considerable resistance to the light of the sun that allowed me to tolerate the passage of a sunlit day. Although I could not stroll freely through the streets in broad daylight unless I wanted to become a fiery spectacle for onlookers, the burning sensation and the busts of fiery tongues that would erupt from my body were somewhat bearable.
I could however remain in the shade without any walls surrounding me largely unaffected by the indirect light that would hit me, but to the detriment of my long-awaited victory against the sun, many of my abilities and powers were rendered inoperable during the hours of the day. Even the corrosive effect of the touch of silver had finally lost its luster at long last, reduced to nothing more than a mild irritant to me. So decisive was my victory over this old adversary that for a time I had taken to adorn myself with silver jewelry and accessories for extended periods to see if they had any effect on me. I must admit that this was a very amusing display of strength to both lesser vampires and vampire hunters alike.
This newly found power came quickly, unlike my previous growth spurts this one didn’t take hundreds of years to mature. This time around my power only took a few decades to emerge, and in my experimentations with it I got careless, the displays of my newly found abilities had drawn too much attention to myself. As a result, several of the strongest families I cultivated took notice of this display and they started plotting my demise, alongside age-old secret organizations specializing in combating the undead menace I spawned. They endeavored to capture me in a vain attempt to identify a way to kill me. In retrospect, it was a futile effort on their part but they didn’t know it and I was not inclined to share information unnecessarily. Through the renewed link to my servants and disciples thwarting their plots and ruining their traps was trivial, tedious but more importantly tiring.
The thought of wiping them from the face of the earth had crossed my mind and it was a very alluring suggestion but I did not want to ruin decades of work for a momentary satisfaction. No, instead I chose to delay my gratification and weave a trap of my own. I lured them to carefully crafted catacombs, the resting place of many disciples that served me well over the years, that connects to a fast underground cave system. There I had carefully crafted the shade of a resting chamber for the all-powerful vampire that was sound asleep under the midday sun. Amidst a vast and dreary chamber, I awaited. The hunting group that ventured down the catacombs of the tomb was skilled and powerful, equipped with ancient artifacts and adorned with protective runes. Initially, they attempted to restrain me and drive a state through my heart and I am sure that if that were to work they would have beheaded me as a precautionary measure.
They may even have gone as far as to shove garlic into my mouth. It is amazing how superstition spreads through the public. When they saw that their attempt didn’t work they took a few steps back and started our encounter with the release of a weapon I hadn’t seen before, and I must admit they got me by surprise. It was a chemical concoction of shorts, a type of explosive that emitted a glaring brilliant light even more powerful than the light of the sun itself. But it only lasted for a brief moment and it had little effect on me to the detriment of the surprised faces I could see before me.
Two of their number were equipped with silver weapons one bearing a blade and the other having a pair of axes on his side but was holding a modified hand cannon, while the three behind them had silver-tipped crossbows and one of them was holding a vial with an unidentified liquid. The thought of putting up an act and falling from their blades did cross my mind but that would be too easy. I didn’t need to put up a fight their weapons were ineffective on me. I knew they had something they were preparing as a last result, and I wanted them to use their trump card. So I allowed them to attack me without resistance. Their weapons sunk into my body only for my body to heal the moment they were extracted. I was greeted by another round of mortified faces as a man adorned in religious paraphernalia splashed me with water from a distance after he mumbled a shored passage of something that resembled prayer under his breath. His mumbling painted me in a very bad light and I believe he referred to me as a demon.
I took that one personally. An attack I could understand but name-calling was just disrespectful. So in a flash of red, I plunged my hand into his chest, sunk my fingers into his still-beating heart, and ripped the bottom half of it out. He died almost instantly, leaving me with a crimson-red right hand in full display for all to see. A blanket of dread fell on all the people that had gathered to fall into my trap. Almost panicked and unnerved, they used their last resort just as I wanted them to do. They unveiled their secret weapon. An explosive of unrivaled power designed to kill vampires in mass, it would use rapid chemical reactions to propel fragments of silver and iron to tremendous speeds while producing a light so powerful that could dim the sun.
As I finished reading the memories of the person I just killed, I heard a hissing noise as they lit their fuse to their curious contraption. In a split second two of them had decided to stay behind and keep me here, while three of them would make a run for it and return at a later point to finish the job if their little trinket didn’t do a good enough job. I must admit this plan may have worked if they tried it seven or eight centuries sooner, but that was not the case. I let the three escape, I even send one of my ghouls after them to make sure they would exit the catacombs fast enough and I helped myself to the blood of the two fighters that remained. One of them had exceptionally potent blood. It was a very nice treat to end the night with and a reward well earned. After their curious apparatus erupted I summoned one of my ghouls and ordered him to adorn himself with my clothes, I siphoned away its power to kill him quickly and embedded silver fragments in his face and chest that started eating up at his body. While the tomb was still reverberating with the sounds of the explosion, I made my way to the underground cave system and Into the mountains where I remained for a few days until I was sure they were convinced that they had prevailed.
As time passed I experienced another gradual but distinct growth spurt that changed my dietary habits yet again and altered my goals. It turns out that the purified blood I craved could be drawn and distilled from any type of blood I could harvest. Furthermore, I could do so remotely and have the blood drawn to me from a vast distance. My connection to my servants and the creatures under my control was strengthened too. Not only was I able to see what they were seeing and hear what they were hearing but I could take control of their bodies directly.
I could also create what I call shadows of myself, duplicate versions of me that look indistinguishable from true visage. So more and more I would resign myself to fall into a trance -like state and have my servants to all the bloodletting I desired. If my connection to my servant was strong enough I could draw purified blood directly from their victims through our shared connection as they feed. As the revelations of these newly found powers were dawning on me I began to come back to the mountains more and more over the years. And a few hundred years ago I entered a meditative state that I have not broken since. I now rest upon an opulent and imperial stone slub adorned with ancient symbols of protection and concealment.
A precautionary step spawned from the paranoia I still have for the unknown threat that may still lurk in the darkest corners of this world. I derive substance directly from the blood spilled from any living thing that bleeds out within my area of influence that now envelops this entire mountain range and a good portion of the valley to the south of here. I only extract the purest life essence from the blood available to me. I spend most of my time outside of these caves and caverns by projecting my consciousness to any creature I choose, taking over its body to petrol the surrounding lands and explore any points of interest.
Occasionally, when the circumstances require it, I manifest a secondary body that I use to walk the streets and enjoy the finer things in life. But as time passes my power still grows. The size of my sphere of influence is increasing and my abilities crystalize more and more, year after year. Even the flesh of my body gives way to something pure and potent, it’s as if my body is made out of the purest essence of life in its entirety. But I still feed. The more I consume the stronger I get. And yet all of my centuries-old questions that torment my mind eternally remain unanswered.
What am I?
What am I turning into?
And more importantly.
What will I become in the coming centuries?
The End