His first thought was of pain. Pain, like never before. Pain in his body, and pain in his mind. He opened his eyes. Haze and confusion filled them. He didn’t know where he was, who he was, but he felt like he forgot something crucial.
Suddenly, he heard a sigh. It felt vaguely familiar, he—
“Ray.”
Ray shuddered and everything fell into place. He remembered. Terror and fear. Pain and agony. The helplessness of being undone, all that he was, mercilessly forced into—
Ray’s mind jerked again and he felt his head clear, the haze and confusion slowly lifting. He realized he was whole, he was still himself…
Was he really though?
Vorm, what happened? Am I still me?
“Why wouldn’t you be? You think I’d let a bunch of crazies ruin my propert—“ cough cough “I mean, mess you up?”
So that’s how you see me? Your property?
“I didn’t say that,” Vorm answered with a tone as if the idea had never even crossed its mind.
While Ray wanted to argue about being a property, there were more important things he needed to know first. So… Can you explain to me what happened exactly?
“No.”
Ray: …
But Ray was experienced, so he said fawningly, I just wanted to understand what happened, to properly admire how you foiled their plans.
“Oh well, if you say it like that. All their bullshit that they wanted to pollute your Soul Core with is confined in your Blood. Of course, a price had to be paid, so you are not only a poor-man imitation of a Vampire Origin, but a broken one. A real one has infinite lifespan, but you don’t have long to live. Not that this ritual wasn’t kind of broken to begin with…”
That’s fine, if anything, I’m happy about that. Just the thought of living forever made Ray shudder.
So, how long do I have left? Ray assumed it was days, maybe weeks or just a few months? It couldn’t be mo—
“Decades.”
A pause.
What did you say?
“Decades.”
A longer pause.
…What? How long?
“Decades.”
A pause. It stretched silently.
So, tell me again, how long do I have left to live?
“Decades.”
…Vorm, are you sure I’m fine? I think I have auditory hallucinations.
“You have a twisted sense of time if you think a few measly decades isn’t just a blip.”
That’s what Vorm said, but a few decades felt like forever to Ray. It didn’t matter. What mattered, was that he was still himself. As he was thinking, he frowned. He remembered dreams. Dreams of lives that weren’t his. But no matter how he tried to remembered the details, they eluded him, like he was grasping water, it flowed through his fingers. He only had vague impressions and feelings. Nevertheless, there was one singular conviction dominating all those lives. A sense of duty, the willingness to sacrifice, the desire to be One—
Ray groaned as a splitting headache pierced through his head. Vorm, are you sure I’m fine? What are these dream-like memories of different lives?
“Oh, those? Well, they were discarding them, but energy is energy, so I just stuffed them all into your Blood as well. It is also useful as a counterbalance to their Unity bullshit. Don’t think about it, it’s harmless.”
Ray really had his doubts about Vorm’s claims of harmlessness. He felt like his definition of harmful and Vorm’s were vastly different. Not that he could do anything about it. Without Vorm’s interference in this stupid ritual he wouldn’t even be himself anymore in the first place. He sighed, and wondered why couldn’t he be born into a peaceful life without insane complications…
Say, Vorm, is there a reason I’m never born into a peaceful situation?
“No,” Vorm easily lied.
Ray wasn’t convinced, but he was as powerless as he was just about everything else. There was no point thinking about this. Instead, he turned his attention outside of his mind and observed his surroundings.
He was still lying in the center of the ritual. The only difference was that the naked people were gone. Ray felt disgusted, thinking of his Blood. If he understood Vorm right, all those people basically became his Blood. The neat engravings and the pristine floor was ruined, cracked and dull, it felt dead.
Ray carefully sat up, very carefully, at a snail’s pace. Apparently, he was a Vampire Origin, whatever that meant, and he didn’t want to underestimate his body and do something stupid like crashing into the ceiling by just wanting to stand up.
But he soon felt like his concerns were unfounded. It wasn’t like the demon’s body that he had only possessed. Moving this body felt natural. This was his body, no matter through what madness it was created. It was his, and he instinctively knew how to use it. A bit more confident, he stood up.
He looked down at himself, and he was pleased to see his toned body. Not too muscular, not too skinny, it was just perfect. As he looked down, his red hair slipped down his shoulders. He straightened back up, grabbing some of it and looking at it. It was a deep, rich red. It felt soft, and silky. But as he was looking at it, he realized something and looked around once more.
Everything was shades of gray. He had originally thought that now with the ritual done, it wasn’t surprising that everything around him seemed lifeless. But now, as he was looking at himself, he started to have a suspicion.
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Say, Vorm. Am I kind of colorblind, only seeing red?
“It appears so.”
Ah well, whatever. It feels like I’ve got my dream body, I can live with that.
“That’s because that is what happened. Your soul had influenced the formation of your body. Not that it matters, vampires created from humans are typically alluring in human eyes.” After a brief pause Vorm added, “Well, not all kinds, but most.”
Ray felt pleased. He didn’t feel that different from a human though. He wondered if he even had some kind of powers. Basically being a budget vampire gave him doubts if he was even that much stronger than humans. But just as soon as he had these thoughts, he felt a mystical power slumbering deep inside him that he knew he could call upon anytime, and it would leap to his command.
He tentatively reached out to this power and felt himself connect with it as the power stirred. It was as if he was blind before, but now, his eyes truly opened, and he saw and felt the world for the first time.
It felt familiar. He wasn’t sure why, but realization soon dawned on him. It was the smells. The smells were talking to him again. He hadn’t realized it before, how much he missed them ever since he died as a wolf. The smells welcomed him again, but they were different, their whispers were crueler, more ruthless. As a wolf, he was born as a hunter, but now he felt… more than that. There was more to the hunt than survival.
Ray was consumed by his instincts, he lost himself to them. His body moved on its own, slowly turning towards the prey he smelled, the prey he felt. He launched himself out of the empty pool. Landing softly like a cat, he shot towards it.
—
Ray found himself lying on the ground, confused. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t, his body wouldn’t listen to him. Then he remembered the voice he heard. His muddled mind slowly pieced together what had happened and terror gripped him. When he had reached out to the power the sensations overwhelmed him. The feeling of an all-consuming hunger and thirst. The need to hunt, to take, to… dominate.
But that wasn’t important now. There was the man standing next to him. He was the one whose voice he heard. The voice felt wrong and right at the same time, his body ensnared by it. That was the reason he couldn’t move.
The man crouched down and looked into Ray’s eyes. Those eyes… They were a different color, a deep red, and a different shape, but they gave the same feeling. Ray hated those eyes. Disgust. Repulsion. He abhorred those eyes with his whole being. He wanted to rip them out, to never see those kind of eyes again. Because those were the same kind of eyes he always saw as a wolf.
Amusement passed through the man’s eyes. He was supposed to be his father, but Ray would not acknowledge a father like that. He never really had one to begin with.
The man smiled, it wasn’t benevolent. Those eyes didn’t smile.
“No one has ever tried to defy me since I became the Patriarch,” the man’s voice was disgustingly pleasant. There was a restrained power under it as he continued, “And while it was a novel experience…” as he trailed off his smile grew brighter while his eyes became icy cold. “I will not tolerate it.” The power in the voice was unleashed and it slammed into Ray with its might. Ray felt like he would break apart, but he did not. The power would not let him die.
Ray screamed in pain.
“Be quiet,” Ray could not hear the command, but his screams cut off. He felt powerless, helpless. The pain was unbearable, yet he had to bear it. He was not allowed to die, not allowed to scream, not allowed to fell unconscious. All that he was allowed to, was to feel the pain, become pain, be pain. There was nothing, but pain.
Ray didn’t know how long it lasted. Eventually, he realized the pain was gone. He weakly opened his eyes, the world was a blur. He didn’t even know if he could move, he was too weak to even try. The man was still crouching next to him as Ray’s eyes fell on his shoes as he tried to focus. He laboriously moved his eyes up and saw those eyes again. Those eyes…
Ray did not care. A boundless hate and indignation shattered all his thoughts. Heedless of anything, he fully embraced the power in him.
—
The world was pain anew. There was nothing, but pain.
—
When the pain was gone, Ray didn’t even have the strength to open his eyes. His thoughts sluggishly dragged themselves, and he reached out to his only companion. Vorm?
“Hm?”
What is happening?
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Please, not now. Help me.
“Just do what he wants.”
No. I cannot go back to that. It can’t be like that again.
“It won’t, it will be different.”
That’s what I used to tell myself, but it was always the same…
“Oh, just quit the pity-party already, it’s getting old.”
How ca—
“Look at me,” the man’s commanding voice cut through the dull buzz in Ray’s ears, not giving him time to think. His eyes opened to look at the man. Those eyes were still the same, but Ray just blankly stared, too exhausted to feel anything anymore. His empty eyes were devoid of emotions.
“You are just a confused newborn, so I don’t blame you. Have you learned your lesson?”
Ray didn’t answer, he just looked soullessly, barely comprehending what the man was asking.
But the man was not satisfied, a dangerous edge crawled under his voice, “Have you?”
Ray’s lips trembled. As the air escaped between them, a barely audible whisper of a “yes” could be heard. Or maybe it was just an illusion of one. But it satisfied the man. He patted Ray’s head.
“Good boy.”
Ray closed his eyes because the embers of hate and rage were relighted in them once more, burning violently, seeking to consume all. Even so, there was nothing he could do right now, but endure.
The man did not mind it, he took it as a sign of submission.
“I must admit, this is not quite what I expected. Why do you not revere me?” the man mumbled looking up as if his eyes could pierce through solid matter, quietly contemplating, seeking answers from somewhere maybe only he could see.
Then something occurred to him as his gaze sharply landed on Ray, questioning him with narrowed eyes, “Could it be that you don’t recognize me?”
Ray didn’t answer, but he tiredly opened his eyes. There was only confusion in them. When the man said “me”, Ray felt it did not simply mean “me”, but it was something more… it had weight… and power.
The man stood up, and looking down at Ray he commanded, “Look at me.”
Ray had no strength to move, yet he did without meaning to. He moved before he even realized, and twisting his body, he looked up. Something changed about the man, something intangible, but it felt unsettling.
A faint red haze slowly enveloped the man, and as it grew stronger, it reached towards Ray. There was no command, but Ray felt compelled. There was something inevitable, something unavoidable, something overpowering about the man. He didn’t understand, but Ray felt pulled towards him. Then the man spoke.
“I am your Patriarch, bearer of the Bloodright of Absolute Authority.”
Ray’s Blood sang in recognition and joy as if it was given purpose. A piece that it was missing, but now found, and it felt whole and right. Before Ray could comprehend what was happening, his body already moved and kneeling in front of the Patriarch, he spoke with reverence, “I serve the Patriarch. Blood Above All.” Blood seeped out of Ray, flowing down on his naked body, but he did not move. He kept kneeling in his pool of Blood.
“So that’s how it was,” the Patriarch nodded in understanding. Then looking at the Blood, he said, “Your Bloodright rules above the Bloodright of Might, yet it cannot hope to match the Bloodright of Absolute Authority and serves under it. I hereby name your Blood. Bloodright of Domination. And grant you the title of Bloodnight Tyrant to be your name.”
Something fell into place. It felt right. Ray’s Blood came back inside him. It felt alive.
Ray could not understand what had just happened. He just stared ahead with empty eyes, without seeing anything.
His hair was roughly grabbed, and Ray was forced to look up. Those eyes still looked at him the same, with a superiority that was the man’s right, and naturally trampled on anything that did not bend to his will.
One corner of the Patriarch’s mouth corked up in amusement as he softly said, “You were quite expensive, don’t disappoint me.”
Ray hastily nodded, not even feeling the pain as his hair was madly pulled. The Patriarch let go of him and patted his cheek, “Good.” With that, the man turned to leave.
The Patriarch was already quite a distance away when he added it as an afterthought, “Oh, right. You are free to do whatever, but you cannot go outside the Outer Walls.” Ray’s Blood shuddered in recognition of the command. Finally, the Patriarch left, yet Ray stayed frozen, still kneeling. The helplessness that weighed him down was too heavy for him to shake off.