Have you ever heard of vampires? Fanged predators of the night, stories say. Immortal and cold, forever hungry. But the truth is never as poetic. Kael didn't wake with elegance or mystery. He woke choking on the scent of rotting flesh.
He lay in a pit, among corpses twisted in their final agonies. Bones jutted through skin, some already picked clean by time. Flies swarmed like clouds above the decay, and the air was so thick with death that every breath he took felt like swallowing disease. When his eyes opened, he couldn't believe they were still his. There was intense heartbeat but no warmth. Only awareness. Only pain in still being.
Where the fuck was he?
He pulled himself up with shaking hands, flesh brushing against cold, slimy bodies. Every movement sent a jolt of nausea through him. The ground beneath him was soft with decomposed flesh. He was in a mass grave. Panic clawed at his throat. Was this hell? No, hell would at least be hot. This was cold, empty and silent.
Kael stumbled forward. Darkness surrounded him like a heavy veil, until he noticed a thin crack in the stone wall ahead. Light seeped through it, faint but undeniable. He reached for it like a dying man for air. When he pushed himself through the narrow break, he emerged into a world he didn't recognize.
The sky above wasn't blue. It was thick and grey, like smoke had swallowed the sun. The clouds didn't drift; they loomed. The moment sun touched his skin, he braced himself for agony. Stories said vampires burned in daylight. But there was only discomfort, a tingling under his flesh, like needles beneath the skin. It didn't kill him.
He stood in the outskirts of a city, near what looked like a forgotten burial trench. As he moved toward the streets, the buildings grew denser, and noise crept into his ears. Voices. Laughter. Cries.
And then he saw them.
A crowd. Hundreds, maybe thousands, moving about their day. Vendors shouted for customers, children darted between carts, guards leaned on their spears exchanging gossip. Life, in its messy, relentless form. Kael stood frozen at the edge of the street, watching.
He couldn't breathe. Their bare, soft necks pulsing with life called to him. His mouth watered uncontrollably. Saliva dripped from his lips. He didn't just want to bite them. He needed it. He imagined the sensation of sinking his teeth into one, the warmth flooding his mouth, the ecstasy of blood coating his tongue.
What was happening to him?
Kael spun and ran, his feet barely touching the cobblestones as he sprinted back toward the outskirts. He found a crumbling stone hut, half-swallowed by weeds, and collapsed inside. His throat burned. His hands trembled as he gulped down water from an old clay jug he found. But it did nothing. The thirst was deeper than water could touch. He clawed at his face, desperate for control.
He caught his reflection in a piece of broken mirror lodged in the wall. What stared back at him wasn't fully human. One eye glowed red, the other remained dark. His teeth had lengthened, jagged fangs poking out from behind pale lips. His nails were sharper, blackened at the tips. He had become something else. Something in-between.
He shouted. He screamed until his throat turned raw. Blood. Blood. Blood. He wanted it more than he wanted answers. More than he wanted to live.
Something fluttered near the window. An innocent bird. He leapt. There was no thought, only hunger. His hands closed around it before it could fly. He bit in, tearing into its side, drinking. Hot blood trickled down his chin as he chewed through it. The taste was indescribable. The warmth, the texture, the life. It was the best thing he had ever consumed. Better than bread on an empty stomach. Better than wine. He devoured it down to bone and feather, panting afterward like a beast.
He leaned back, blood running down his neck. It helped slightly. The throbbing in his head slowed, the burning in his veins cooled. But it wasn't enough. It has no nutrients but sated his hunger for the time being. Think of it like drinking a distilled water instead of pure water.
Hatim.
The name struck him like a hammer. His fangs grew again at the thought. His face twisted with fury. That lying bastard. Hatim had brought him into this.
Two months ago, Kael had been a simple cobbler, polishing boots for men with more coin than kindness. That day was like any other. Until that man walked in. Bland, forgettable. Blond hair tucked under a black hat. Eyes hidden. A coat too thick for the weather. Everything about him was designed to disappear into the crowd.
Kael remembered polishing his shoes. The man had asked if he lived nearby. Kael nodded. Then the man asked the question that stuck with him more than anything.
"Do you have anyone who'd miss you?"
Kael, caught off guard, had answered honestly. No. No family. No one to care. Maybe one day. Maybe, if fate allowed.
The man had smiled. Said he worked for the monarch and his name is Hatim, and left an extra tip. He was far too generous. He then gave an envelope to Kael.
"Read this in private okay?"
Inside was a card: Entry No. 1104. On the back, a recruitment notice for a blood donation project.
PROJECT ASCENSION
"A Blood Donation Initiative"
We are calling upon the brave and the willing to aid in the advancement of national alchemy and medical science. Your contribution of one vial of blood could change lives and bring glory to your name.
In return for your noble act, you shall receive a sum of 3 Gold Crowns, equivalent to two weeks of hard-earned wage for the common citizen.
Participants will be provided food, lodging, and transport. Medical care will be on standby.
Help us shape the future.
Your sacrifice will not go unnoticed.
Entry ID: 1104
Kael had gone. Fool that he was. They didn't take his blood. They pumped something into him. A glowing, black-red substance. It felt like fire in his veins. Like acid devouring him from inside. He remembered screaming that day.
Now he understood. Project Ascension wasn't about saving anyone. It was a slaughterhouse. An experiment. They had turned him into this. Left him to rot with the rest who didn't survive.
His hands dug into the table in the hut, carving deep gouges into the wood. His breath grew shallow. Hatim had lied to him. Played him and treated him like cattle. And now he carried this curse, this hunger that threatened to consume everything he was. His nails scratched his arm until he bled. But even that blood didn't tempt him. It was his own. It was stale.
He needed Hatim. Not just for answers.
He needed to hear that bastard beg. To feel his pulse beneath his hands. To taste the blood of the man who turned him into this monster. No, not just taste it. To drink it all. Savor every drop.
Kael stood, breath steadying, his face pale and sharp in the cracked mirror's reflection. His red eye glowed brighter now. The thirst was still there, just beneath the surface, waiting to boil over.
Kael wasn't a man anymore. And he wasn't just a vampire.