Hey, have you heard of vampires?
You probably have. Maybe from those movies where they sparkle, or those old books with castles and cloaks. Lots of stories. Too many, honestly.
But this one... this one is different.
It starts in a place that shouldn't exist. A place buried so far beneath the earth that even the screams don't echo.
Kael woke to darkness. Not the peaceful kind. This was heavy and unnatural, a void that swallowed every sound. At first, he thought he might be dead. But no, his heart was still beating—barely.
He wasn't alone.
There were others. Men and women, all around him, each trapped in their own strange glass vessel. Their faces blurred through the murky red liquid. Some floated like corpses, others stirred weakly, their eyes dazed. Every one of them wore the same thing like torn rags, stained with dirt and old blood. They were commoners. Just like him.
Kael tried to move. His body didn't respond. Chains bound his wrists, ankles, even his neck. Not just physical ones—something deeper, like his blood had frozen mid-flow. He could barely even blink.
Then the door opened.
A man walked in. No footsteps. No voice. Just the sound of a glass vial clicking against metal.
Kael strained his eyes. The man's face was hidden in the shadow, his entire figure blurred like a bad memory. In silence, the figure pressed a long syringe into Kael's arm and injected something red. It burned. He wanted to scream, but the tube sealed his mouth shut.
The man whispered only one thing.
"One."
Then he moved on, injecting the others.
Time passed. Days? Hours? It didn't matter.
He came again.
More people were awake now. Some had eyes full of questions, others already panicked. The man didn't care about that. Just came to fulfill the same routine. Injection.
"Two."
They started dying. One by one.
Their tanks went still. Blood leaked into the liquid. Limbs twitched and then floated lifeless.
The third time he came, Kael noticed something strange. His arm where he injected the unknown liquid, it had stopped responding. Completely numb. But his teeth... they felt sharper. As if something inside his mouth was shifting. He bit down by accident, tearing his tongue. The taste of blood didn't even register.
"Three."
"Four."
"Five."
The count went on. No explanation. No answers. He said this during his each injection dose.
Kael started losing his mind. His body screamed for food, water, light. Anything. He watched them all die. Slowly but surely a dozen died. Then two dozens. By the tenth injection, only five of them remained.
Then four.
Three.
Two.
He stopped counting when the man reached "Sixteen."
Only Kael was left.
He had lost weight. His skin had gone pale. His bones showed through his chest. His heartbeat was sluggish, sometimes skipping for minutes before thudding once again. But still, somehow, he was alive.
That day, the man came with something different.
The liquid wasn't the usual red. This time, it was glowing. A deep, ancient crimson that looked alive. It pulsed inside the vial like a living creature.
He spoke for the first time in days.
"You've done well to last this long. Now comes the final phase."
Kael couldn't react. His eyes followed helplessly as the man took out a scalpel. No anesthesia. No numbing spell.
He sliced into Kael's chest, slowly peeling back skin and muscle. Kael wanted to faint. Wanted to die. But his body refused. Every second was agony.
Then came the bones.
The ribs cracked, pulled open with metal clamps. His heart, barely functioning, was exposed. And the man, he pushed the syringe in.
The blood of the First Vampire Lord.
The scream that followed should've split the world. But it stayed sealed within the chamber, muffled by glass and silence.
Every cell inside Kael convulsed.
His veins lit up like molten fire. His bones vibrated. His fangs, yes actual fangs pushed through his gums, tearing the roof of his mouth. His eyes turned crimson.
And then...
His heart stopped. The machines let out a single flat tone. The man took a breath. Disappointed, maybe.
"Another failure."
Two men in white armor came in. They picked up Kael's corpse and carried it like trash. He was dumped in a pit. A giant metal shaft filled with bodies. Some old, half-rotten. Some still twitching. A mountain of discarded attempts.
The experiment had failed.
The man in the shadows crossed his arms and turned away.
"Begin prepping the next batch. Increase resilience factors. This one had potential. It's a shame we took the gamble."
And so they left him there among corpses.
Time passed.
How much? I don't know. Could be weeks. Could be months.
But Kael... he didn't rot. His body, ripped and mangled, stayed whole. Until one day...
Thump.
Just once. Like a drum in the dark, his veins lit up in deep red.
Thump.
His torn chest pulled itself together, muscle winding like threads. Skin stitched itself shut. His heart restarted.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He opened his eyes.
His mouth opened. Fangs bared. The scent of blood around him woke something primal. His body, still starved, still cold, trembled as it re-learned how to move.
He stood shivering.
I don't know what woke him. Maybe the First Lord's blood needed death to take root? But one thing was certain—
Kael wasn't the same anymore.
He doesn't look like complete human and not complete vampire. One eye is black as usual and the other is deep red. His fangs were visible but somehow he could make it normal. Also, his hands grew pointy nails. Seems like he became half vampire.
The only one of his kind.
And this... is how the Lord of Vampires was born.