This is a first draft of a first chapter of a first novel. Lots of firsts, so let me know if something seems off or wrong. All Italics are the thoughts of a character, i am not sure if that will be only for our MC or if this will be a universal thing in case i change perspectives around later.
Cyprien had fucked up, and he knew it. After years of leading, teaching, and believing what was commonly accepted by all of his kind and those like him; he had finally made the error that had not been made since the invention of the damned IPhone. He had been caught eating on camera. Now he was rotting in a cell.
Cyprien looked up at his jailer and sighed, “You know that it will just be swept under the rug or called a hoax right? Those conspiracy theorists like to over analyze that crap for years until all people can say is ‘Shut the Fuck Up’ right?”
Brute just glanced at him with an aggrieved look, “You know even if I agree with you that I can’t change the fact that you are locked in a cell which I cannot even touch. What do you want me to do? Tell you that you’re completely right and that when the Counsel comes back that they won’t tell you that you’re fucked?”
Cyprien knew Brute had a point but complaining felt right, he needed an audience for his sorrows even if it was a forced one. He didn't want to torment Brute too much so he relented and looked back at the silver cage he was in, wondering if there was a way to escape.
“Brute, has anyone ever escaped this cell?”
“Don't even think about it pretty bo- wait what did you call me?”
“Well when you dragged me in here I couldn't help but look at you and automatically think Brutus, and since that is far too many syllables I shortened your name to Brute, after talking with you however, I am not quite sure how well that shoe fits.”
Brute harrumphs and stands from his chair. “Well to answer your question, no. No one in the thousand or so years since this cell has been built and maintained has escaped it. Not for lack of trying of course, but I really don’t think you have more success than the previous occupants. You are lacking…” Brute Pauses and exaggeratedly counts, “four limbs which may have been helpful in that regard.”
Cyprien looked down regretfully at his stumps. “Why do those bastards keep sawing off my limbs? Power play to the other races was my first guess but no one is stupid enough to think I can’t regenerate them. The real power play was leaving him in this cell for what felt like a week.”
“I must thank you kind Brute, without my fingers to count I would have never known how many limbs I was missing today. Any idea why those dalcops keep removing my extremities?”
Brute shrugged and sat back down, “Bit over my paygrade, I have run this compound of cells for close to 40 years now. I learned not to ask those questions very quickly so I didn’t find myself in a cell missing appendages.”
“Brute, I doubt your people would tear your arms and legs off, Werewolves cannot match our regeneration after all.”
“They should’ve taken your tongue too. Stop calling me that. My name is T-”
Two quick knocks and the door opens, revealing a smug but incredibly hideous face that would undoubtedly scare his own mother.
“Cyprian Viltain, it is time for your final meeting with the Counsel.”
“Ah, my colleague Wimbleton, it has been far too short a time between our last meeting. Perhaps next time a few centuries will pass before I see that barbed wire you call teeth.”
Wimbleton stares back with a predatory grin and something in his eyes puts the first bit of fear in Cyprian since this fiasco had started.”Your request, I suspect, can be accommodated for you quite easily I believe Cyprian. I personally do not know what the Counsel has planned but they are not considering some minor punishment. Of that I am sure. Guard, open his cage and do the kindness of strapping him in, I am in no mood to touch such a wanton beast.”
With some grumbling Brute starts to go through the process of wrapping his hands to handle the silver key and the limbless vampire.
“Please handle me gently dear Brute, jostling is quite a pain at the moment as you can imagine.” Cyprian eyes Wimbleton as he speaks, with more than a little caution in his expression.
A minute later Cyprian was strapped to the gurney like a soon to be sith Lord. With nothing to do but think Cyprian thought back to what landed him with his mani pedi from hell.
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After a life as long as his not much truly bothered or surprised Cyprian, he did whatever crossed his mind or gained his attention at the moment, and currently, he was bored. Walking down the street of what he had called home for the past decade and he knew he would be leaving soon, within a year or so. It wasn't that this city was suffocating him, he still quite loved the Florida lifestyle in Jacksonville. It was the fact that he would soon stand out for looking like the same 22 year old that he did when people met him, he was already getting questions and Gwenneth Paltrow’s latest diet wasn't going to cut it for much longer. Vampirism is such a gift and curse.
After some time walking Cyprian got even more bored and started walking to pick up his special Saturday football snack. He continued until he found himself near the stadium with all the tailgators mid party watching their precious Jags rough each other up in pads. Cyprian didn’t understand many current sports as growing up all there was to watch was the occasional drunks brawling. But one thing that always brightened him up were the snacks, all of them watching the game with rapt attention.
Cyprian was on the prowl, looking from tailgate to tailgate as they all had their own atmosphere and different types of occupants. He was looking for a specific one, his favorite flavor of mischief, one spouse focused completely on the game, and one who was disinterested in all but the other spectators and their figures. He knew he looked like a pickup artist sleaze, and in a way he was, but they knew too, and some were giving him some serious stares. Most were touch my wife and I’ll shoot you glares, but some were mischievous husbands or wives eyeing him.
Starting to approach one rather handsome and delicious looking man Cyprian stopped and glanced at a woman gesturing towards him. Both were his type but this woman was the peak of his type, green piercing eyes with dark black hair, pale skin, 1.6 meters and a beautiful patchwork of tattoos. He all but floated her way like a cartoon smelling a pie. Reaching her they grinned and walked off together, not seeing the infuriated husband standing up to pursue.
They started in the first cover they found, between extremely loud tailgates, Cyprian was aware of how classy that was and how risky it was for more than the obvious fun but he went along because he was bored. They started ripping each others clothes off and kissing with the lust of two teenagers in a parking lot.
*Click*
Cyprian recognized the click behind him faintly before the next sound hit him, a firing gun. Time then seemed to slow as the sound of the explosion in the barrel grew deep and started becoming drawn out.
His bloodline power was useful to extend the moment he was in, but that was all the damn toreador bloodline gave him, time to think, not to move quicker than normal vampires, but the power to let the mind experience time slower at the sacrifice of a large quantity of blood being used up and excreted out of his nose. Becoming useless and inert blood, poisonous and unliving.
He had about 3 seconds to think of something but since he was at a half tank of blood all he could plan was push the gorgeous black hair beauty out of harms way and take the bullet like a hero. He would pretend to be in the pain of a human while waiting for the blood one of the EMT’s would undoubtedly give him after he used a minor compulsion to get a blood bag to eat. A win for everyone but the frightened spectators of the game, and the husband, and the tattooed goddess. His nose let out a spurt of dead blood and time resumed.
The first thing Cyprian remembered after coming to was the man, with a gun in his limp hand and blood covering his torso, which was odd because Cyprian always went for the neck. Then Cyprian froze as he stared at the headless torso with a large bite mark in the severed meat. Processing further what happened he started to hear the screams, and looked up at the 4 or so brave fools filming him with their fucking phones and the rest running away like they had seen a monster. Feeling at his chest he found 4 bullets rather quickly pushing themselves out of his chest in a macabre fashion, and one last bullet was halfway out of his eyebrow.
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“Fuck”
Cyprian then ran, becoming as close to a blur as he could until he arrived home. All the while only two words crossed his lips. “Fuck This.”
He waited in his home until the knock came 2 hours later. He knew they would be coming and he knew that he would have to face them. He couldn’t hide from the Counsel and their stooges unless he grew wings or be able to become shadows. He opened the door and was whisked away by the four person death squad sent.
__________________________________
“Why the hell did I just flash back to how I got to this position like some shitty exposition flashback in a TV show. Oh right, that perfect short tattooed beauty. Im wishing I had picked the other guy right now but we all have our weaknesses.”
“Why the fuck are you smiling Cyprian, there is no version of you that wouldn’t understand that you are not leaving here, you’re smart enough to realize that if only barely.”
“Oh Bimble, you’re still here? Really looking forward to hearing my sentencing this much?”
“My name is Wimbleton you buffoon, and yes, this is going to be the highlight of the century for me.”
“The internet and Tinder are the best highlights of the century Bimble, you cannot deny the usefulness of both. Actually you probably hate tinder based on how your face looks like a bat and a squid humped you out.”
Wimbleton hit Cyprian in the nose, breaking it for the 8th time this week.
“Speak like that to me again and I will pull your tongue out of its accursed cave.”
Knowing that he was not bluffing Cyprian held his tongue and slowly watched the ceiling pass him by as he was rolled down the hallways through the large and ancient underground until they reached an elevator which did not fit in with the ambiance of the dungeon of the Counsel.
“It’s been a century or two since I have been back here, good to see it has modernized a bit.”
“You would be surprised, Viltain. The factions of the Counsel have poured more money into the Badia Fiorentina than you can imagine. Not even your Bloodline as a whole has amassed enough wealth in all of history to fund a single floor of this underground complex.”
Traveling up the elevator Cyprian glances at the number of buttons representing floors, 23 in total.
“Progress? That is quite interesting, I thought you might have some 643 more floors but that is a nice surprise to know we pretend to not eat people. I do not suppose I will be getting a tour of what all of our taxe- ahem- tributary money towards the Counsel has been going towards?”
“No”
With a roll of the eyes Wimbleton hits the button for floor 13 and Cyprian laughs, earning him a hard hit to the jaw and a world full of blackness.
___________________________________
Blood. It encompassed all of Cyprian's thoughts, he secretly hated the thought of drinking blood but when it touched his lips and filled his mouth as it was now. “Wait…why is there blood in my mouth.”
Opening his eyes with a groan, Cyprian tastes his own blood and hears a faint ringing in his ears which was slowly being replaced by the discussions coming from above. Seven chairs stood on their own daisies, six occupied by the different races leading the organization of the secretly occult, The Unseen.
First were was the leader of the Vampires, a young Vampire of a mere 3 centuries, but a progressive and relentless Vampire, Ramis Assamite, as close to pure blood as possible due to one of the first turning him personally.
Then there were the Wolves, Cyprian did not mind the wolves in general but their leader and upstart Alice was fucking annoying with her damnable convictions.
Witches were in the next seat and were everyone's least favorite. Unless you of course liked being thrown into next week by almost satanic like acid trips. Cyprian could never get a single witches name as they all coveted it more than their lives, so he called this one the same thing he called all witches in his head. Witch.
The Yokai Representative was looking bored in their chair. Cyprian had no clue who the Jorogumo in front of him was, and even though she had the appearance of a beauty that rivals most models he had no interest in her. The last thing he wanted to do end up as her children’s next meal.
Paul was sitting on the far left. Paul was unlike any of the other races in the Counsel, in fact he was the most curious member to have sit on the same stage as the other leaders for one simple fact. Paul was a mortal ordinary human. Sent no doubt by his American Government to make sure whatever punishment Cyprian was issued to be equal to his crime, and carried out swiftly. And to sneer at Cyprian for being a pain in his ass for the last 12 years. Cyprian chuckled at the memory of him going redder than an apple when he dropped by Paul’s home with a gift of red wine which turned out to be pigs blood. Cyprian thought it was amusing at the time but paused chuckling as he realized that now was not the time to laugh.
Sipping on what looked like champagne next to Paul was an illustrious Tuatha De, the Demi-God race as they are called by the members of the Unseen. To mortals however, these were the gods of old. Often called Zeus, Pluto, Freya, Vishnu, Apsu, or gods most any culture, these immortal beings of more limited power than thought were vain, haughty, and had to have the most fucked up sense of morality that Cyprian had witnessed in a being. In front of him was one of the worst of them all, calling himself Tom in this time period but was previously known as Zeus, or Ra. The most arrogant and self-aggrandizing of the Tuatha De.
In the middle of the daises stood one chair that was grander, elevated higher than all the others. This chair was empty, but all knew what may occupy it should they wish to appear. A being of more myth and power than all of the other races combined, a true Dragon. No dragon had made any appearance to this Counsel, or any other underworld society for many centuries, Cyprian had only seen a Dragon once, when he was a newly turned Vampire, and nothing else had ever truly frightened him or amazed him since.
___________________________________________
The loud voice of Ramis rang out and quieted the rest of the Counsel. “The accusations and proof of the crimes of Cyprian Viltain are clear. My fellow consulates, before you vote on the fate of the one before you think of the circumstances of what happened. Would you all not also do whatever you could to survive. Would you not kill the one who would kill you to become whole again? Cyprian is indeed guilty in the eyes of this chamber, however you would each do the same. I ask this Counsel to not sentence a maximum punishment.”
Outrage flew from Alice and the Witch, likely based on their own peoples given the maximum for far less of a crime. Tom had an amused air about him, but stayed silent. The Yokai nodded to the words of Ramis, clearly not caring of the outcome but always wanting the favor of the Vampire Cabals. But Paul was the most outraged of all, accenting his rage was his bright red face, turning brighter with each passing moment. Cyprian almost slowed his perception just to watch the shades of red turn deeper slower, almost. Instead he just sighed, knowing that even if he had to suffer the next century or two buried or tortured in a no doubt horrific way, that they would not kill him. The first accords prevented it, so he just watched the squabbling leaders with a bored expression.
A chuckle resounded through the hall and froze all present with its deep and traveling timbre, chilling the air physically until frost formed in patches. This was not a simple sound that echoed around the chamber, the slight chuckle was more than bouncing around the room. It echoed through Cyprian’s bones, through his blood, and his soul. Every Council member had the same feeling as Cyprian saw their faces, all but one council member was still frozen by the sound; Paul was out of his chair and unconscious on his dais with blood running from his nose and ears as a thin trail of cerebral fluid ran out of his eyes like thick tears. The chuckling stopped and suddenly the room was back to its original temperature and state, with one major change. The middle seat was taken, a true Dragon had arrived, and Cyprian felt desolation enter his mind for the first time since his rebirth as an immortal.
The Dragon had taken the form of a human, but was more than just an altered form, standing at 5 meters and with the build of a gymnast turned bodybuilder, the Dragon was the most elegant being Cyprian had ever seen, stealing his breath. Then he felt once again plunged into cold waters as the Dragon spoke, without the soul shattering power it had once before.
“Arrogant, you believe yourself to be done with your penance with such a mundane punishment as being buried for a millenia? You think that there are not ways around the accords to send you to an afterlife?”
Cyprian just blankly stared and thought “Is he reading my mind? Well, he has to be, and even if he isnt and just very good at guessing, that is the same thing so I should just focus right? Wait, what ways around the accords? How can you get around the fact that we can not kill each other or plot deaths.”
The Dragon just narrowed his eyes and grinned at Cyprian, “Brute.” Then turning to the rest of the counselors he continued, “The oracles had delivered to me long ago a foretelling of this event. That one such as this mere boy would be the reason for the secret of our existence to come to light. Even knowing this would come to pass none may stop Fate, however the secrecy of us all was the first accord in our common laws, and the breaking of such, in the grand manner of which it took place must be judged and punished to the highest degree possible for us to give. Therefore I Apophis Dragon of Chaos and Eater of Souls will send you to the maw of Ikisat.”
For 20 seconds no one dared move, lest Apophis take it as a challenge, not even Tom the past mortal enemy of the serpent. Then nods came from each member other than the likely brain damaged Paul.
“Very well.” Apophis said, “ Vampire, your name is Cyprian Viltain is it not? Do you have any words or thoughts to share before I send you on to whichever hell you land in?”
Cyprian slowed time as much as he could, squeezing as much perception into each millisecond as he could. “If I fight the world ender I am fucked. As much as I wish I could, i doubt I can seduce this dragon. Possibly I could ask for a chance. Maybe a bit of blood so that I can defend myself in Hell for at least a moment or two.”
Ringing pierced his mind for a second and then was gone, replaced by the voice of Apophis via telepathy. “That is quite amusing, you are almost as arrogant as one of us. Very well, I shall give you two chances. One shall be the blood of a Dragon to heal and power you for a time. The other will be more permanent, and much more amusing. I will transform that withered thing you call a heart into something more…fitting for your arrogance.”
In a flash Apophis appeared next to Cyprian and raked his claw over his wrist then stuffed the wound into Cyprian’s mouth, filling it with the richest and most delectable blood Cyprian had ever tasted. Apophis drew back his fully recovered arm and raised it. He held it above the chest of the Vampire and then winked at him before plunging his claws into his heart, rendering Cyprian near unconsciousness, but hanging on by a thread.
Time accelerated a blood exploded like a geyser out of Cyprian’s nose, leaving almost all of his blood on the floor of the chamber. The Dragon's blood was seeping into his body horrifyingly quickly, painfully expanding every cell of his undead biology into their maximum state of potential power, then it expanded some more. That was not the only new change in his body as he felt the horrifying power of a heart beating more rapidly than even a humans. His vampiric heart beat a few times a minute, but this new organ had to be beating 5 times a second.
Then the screaming began as the power started consuming, destroying, and remaking the cells. The body of Cyprian was an Archimedes ship, each limb, organ, and piece of tissue turning into sludge before reforming and breaking down again. The screams came in waves, only constant when his brain, mouth, and tongue were formed. The Counsel looked on in horror or awe as they watched the grotesque transfiguration unfold in front of them, unaware that Apophis had given him Dragon’s Blood or changed him in any way before the nightmarish defigurement.
“I will now perform the Rite to send him to Hell without death. Do not move lest I send you with him.” Apophis said calmly without a trace of malice or guilt.
“Accipe mortales o tartara, qui forma velo separare prohibuit. Eum ad interitum magis supplicio mitte, quam nullus cruor in conspectu tantum cogs et reticulum. Mitte Cyprianum Viltain a Dumah, Masak Mavdil, Tophet, Sha’are Mavet, Gehinnom, Tzalmavet, et-”
“CELIUM” Cyprian cried in the middle of the spell while still choking on his forming vocal chords. That earned him the full force of the ire and aura of the Dragon knocking him out instantly. However Apophis knew he was too late, another location had been integrated into the spell, it was clever of the Vampire he admitted, but the fool had mispronounced Caelium, or heaven in latin. Earning himself an unspecified location in a lottery of hells to be sent to. The Bringer of Chaos grinned and acknowledged the Vampire before it was whisked away into another plane of existence. He was quite glad he had come up for a quick visit after overhearing some minor squabble among the mortals to have some fun. Perhaps he would come up to play with the surface more often.