My eyes opened as I shot up from my bed, my breath ragged. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the room for a brief moment, followed by the mighty roar of thunder.
I shivered, my hands shaking as that horrible nightmare replayed in my head for the umpteenth time, my cold heart beating furiously. The soft downpour of rain and the rhythmic pattering on my windows helped calm me as I took long, deep breaths of the cold air.
Lightning flashed again, accompanied by thunder, as I finally calmed down, the trembling in my hands vanishing. Sighing, I shook my head with a bitter smile and turned, slipping out from beneath my silk sheets to sit on the left edge of my bed, my hands covering my face.
It had been almost forty-five years since that fateful day, but I still had nightmares about it. They were so terrible that even now, anytime I thought about it, my body would flinch, and I'd feel a sliver of that pain echoing across my being.
That day was supposed to be like any other. I'd go to school, attend all my tedious lectures, hang out with some friends, go home to take my litany of prescribed medications, eat, watch some sci-fi shows, and then sleep—only to repeat the cycle.
That was how it was supposed to happen, and that was how it started. But who would've thought I'd end up following a falling celestial body to its crash site, making first contact with an alien thing, enduring what felt like millennia of torture, getting vaporized, and then being reborn? In another universe, no less?
I chuckled at the thought and shook my head as I got out of bed, my feet landing on the polished, pristine marble floor. My eyes scanned the luxuriously decorated bedroom.
It was completely dark, not a hint of light to be found, yet I could see everything. I could make out my fireplace on the wall opposite my bed, the portrait hanging above it, my bookshelves flanking the hearth, my computer stations on the far left of the room, and the black sofas on the far right.
Everything was as clear as if bathed in sunlight on a scorching afternoon. Night vision at its finest—something fundamentally impossible for humans to possess. But thankfully, I was anything but human.
A small smile touched my lips as I stepped to my right, passing through a small arch and entering a door. A wide, equally dark, opulent bathroom opened before me, its marble floors and walls gleaming faintly.
I stopped in front of a crystal-clear full-body mirror, taking time to examine my naked form. The first thing that caught my attention was my eyes. My unnaturally glowing blue irises, framed by dark eyebrows, stared back at me, providing a faint luminescence in the room.
I had a tall, muscular body—perfectly toned and incredibly pale, without a single scar or blemish. My dark red hair fell across my broad shoulders, contrasting with my alabaster skin. My face was angular and striking, with high cheekbones, a straight nose, a strong jawline, and small pink lips.
I looked like a handsome young man in his mid-to-late twenties. And that would've been true if I were human. But fortunately, I wasn't.
I smiled, revealing a perfectly white row of teeth and pointed fangs that gleamed faintly in the dim light.
I was a vampire now, an immortal being of the night that only existed in stories. Somehow, after being tortured and killed by that "thing," I was reborn as a vampire in an entirely new world—a world that, until my death, I had thought was fictional, a mere figment of someone's imagination.
I had been reincarnated into Underworld, a world teeming with vampires and werewolves locked in an endless, bloody war to rid each other from existence.
If it weren't for all I'd been through in this cursed universe, I might still be in denial, convincing myself that it was all just a very, very lucid dream.
But it was real. Fiction had become reality—my reality—and there was nothing to do but accept my new lease on life and adapt.
It was something I had been doing for the past forty-odd years and planned to continue for the rest of my immortal life, despite how fragile the concept of eternal life was in this universe.
Fortunately, today marked a turning point. Today, was the day I'd taste the fruits of my labor. I was going to change history and ascend to higher heights. Today, I'd take one step into perfection.
A grin spread across my face as the thought of my plans for the day sent tremors of excitement through my body, causing the glow in my eyes to intensify. I turned and stepped into the shower cubicle, letting steaming hot water cascade over my body.
After a few minutes, I stepped out, dried myself with a towel, and returned to my bedroom. Opening my walk-in closet, I selected my attire for the evening.
I donned a black, long-sleeved turtleneck shirt overlaid with a black trench coat, black trousers, and black combat boots. After slicking my hair back, I moved to another closet nearby.
Opening it revealed my weapon collection: two black twin Baer 1911 pistols hanging at the top, two long silver daggers in the middle, and four full clips of silver nitrate bullets at the bottom.
I loaded the guns and tucked them into my inner coat pockets, then slid the daggers into separate pockets.
Nodding to myself, I picked up the telephone on the wall and dialed a number. After a few rings, a gruff voice answered in Hungarian.
"Boss?"
"Sergie, prepare the car. I'm coming," I replied in the same language.
"Understood," he said, cutting the call.
I hung up the phone and took one last look around the room. Lightning flickered outside, thunder roared, and rain continued to patter against the windows.
Turning, I stepped into the dimly lit corridor. Dark oak doors lined the walls, and the high ceiling bore a chandelier that cast a muted glow over the carpeted floor. My footfalls were muffled as I descended the spiral staircase to the second floor.
The sounds of idle chatter, soft moans, clinking glasses, and laughter drifted from the salon below, mingling with the distinct aroma of fresh blood and the acrid stench of marijuana.
A frown crossed my face, but I quickly smoothed it away, masking my annoyance with a neutral expression as I descended into the salon.
The salon was decorated in subdued tones of red, black, and a rich walnut brown. Lighted candelabras were mounted along the walls and hung from the ceiling, shining down on a rose-colored wool carpet bearing a floral design.
Ornamental brass lamps with opaque black shades rested upon antique mahogany end tables, beneath the elaborately carved wooden moldings running along the borders of the ceiling.
Heavy velvet curtains of the deepest burgundy were draped over the windows, keeping the place dark and protected from the deadly rays of sunlight come morning.
A menagerie of richly dressed vampires littered the luxurious room, lounging carefree on plush velvet divans or standing around, exchanging giggles and gossip.
Their laughter rang in the air as they clinked their crystal goblets filled with fresh crimson blood, pearly white fangs gleaming in the light peeking from the jaded smiles of the young and elegant vampire men and women.
In the corners of the salon, couples or partners bared their sharp fangs, sinking them into each other's flesh and savoring each other's blood in orgasmic throes, soft sensual moans escaping their blood-stained lips.
A few vampires held long pipes billowing with smoke, taking large puffs and relishing the high of their nicotine-enriched smokes.
The decadent air stank of a horrid mix of marijuana, expensive perfumes, steaming blood, and bodily fluids, making me almost grimace in disgust.
My appearance attracted the attention of most of them. They paused their meaningless chatter and stared at me with eyes brimming with interest, amusement, envy, lust, anger, hatred, and even admiration.
I was used to this, so I ignored their gazes and stepped confidently toward the foyer at the end of the room, my face as cold as ice. Seeing this, they smirked, clicked their tongues, and withdrew their attention, returning to their useless conversations.
Looking at them, all I felt was a deep sense of distaste and disappointment as I inched closer to the foyer. They were vampires, biologically immortal beings with superhuman strength, power, and influence, but they didn't act like it.
While the Death Dealers were out there risking their lives almost every day, fighting against the Lycans who would willingly sell their souls to guarantee our extinction, these vampires were here participating in blood orgies and other hedonistic pleasures.
I didn't like the war that was ongoing between my race and the Lycans. Quite honestly, I thought it was a foolish and meaningless war started by an idiotic leader with a superiority complex so massive that a black hole paled in comparison.
But I at least didn't try to pretend it wasn't happening, unlike some of these degenerates. I did my part, as did most self-respecting vampires, but these bastards did not.
They merely took everything like the blood-sucking leeches and parasites they were, hiding under those pale skins.
They had everything anyone could ever want or dream of, but they did nothing with it. They made me sick, and if I had the chance, I'd throw them all to the wolves and dispose of the waste they were.
But unfortunately, despite my status as a pureblood and my contributions as a scientist and Death Dealer, I didn't have that kind of power. Not yet, anyway...
Stepping into the luxuriously decorated foyer, I briefly glanced at the tapestries and paintings hanging on the walls and moved toward the heavy oaken doors that led to the mansion's exterior.
Fledgling vampires in dark clothing, waiting at the doors, bowed to me with reverent gazes and pushed open the doors, revealing the marble staircase that led downward to the entrance of the mansion.
Sergie, a pale, tall, lanky man in a black trench coat, stood at the foot of the staircase near the limousine, holding an umbrella. The moment he saw me, he hurriedly ascended the staircase and stood next to me, shielding my body from the rain.
I smiled and nodded at him, showing my appreciation, and together we descended to the limousine. He opened the door for me, waited for me to enter, closed it gently, and stepped across the car to the driver's seat.
"Where to, Boss?" He asked as he started the car.
I relaxed in the soft fabric of the seat. "Take me to the lab," I answered and shifted my eyes to watch the gushing fountain being pelted by the rain.
The car started moving, driving past the fountain toward the black main gates guarded by two tall, menacing vampires in dark clothing armed with assault rifles and surrounded by large Dobermans, seemingly unbothered by the rain.
As they opened the gates, I couldn't help but smile as I thought of what awaited me at my lab.
"It'll all be perfect soon."