Deep within the forest located outside solaria, a structure loomed above the surrounding forest, its walls made by stones. Ivy crawled up the walls like skeletal fingers, as if trying to reclaim the castle for the earth.
The massive wooden doors creaked ominously in the gentle breeze, their sound echoing through the stillness of the night. Two gargoyles stood guard on either side of the entrance, their stone eyes glowing with an eerie red light. Their wings seemed to stretch out, as if ready to take flight, and their mouths were open in a silent scream. The wind whispered through their mouths, creating an unsettling whisper.
As the doors creaked open, a figure stepped inside with a graceful composure, his footsteps echoing through the hallway like a slow and deliberate drumbeat. The sound of heavy iron hinges and scraping wood resonated through the air, a solemn announcement of his arrival. The air inside was heavy with the scent of old stone, dust, and something faintly metallic – the tang of blood.
Torches flickered on the walls, casting eerie shadows on the stone floor like dark, dancing attendants. The light danced across the walls, revealing cobweb-covered tapestries.
With each step, the figure's long, black coat billowed behind him like a dark cloud, its hem rustling softly against the stone floor. His red eyes gleamed like embers in the torchlight, casting an otherworldly glow on the surroundings.
His pace was measured and deliberate, a majestic progression as the figure ventured deeper into the castle.
Finally, the figure arrived at the grand throne room, where twelve vampire lieges awaited the arrival of their sovereign, their eyes fixed on the figure with a mixture of anticipation and reverence.
These were the esteemed leaders from across the vampire world, the powerful heads of the noble houses that stood directly beneath the king's authority. The air was heavy with expectation as they gathered around the long, ornate table, their faces illuminated by the flickering torches that lined the walls.
The throne room itself was a masterpiece of dark opulence, with intricate carvings of gothic arches and pointed vaults that seemed to stretch up to the heavens. The walls were adorned with cobweb-covered tapestries, their threads glinting like gold and silver in the torchlight. At the far end of the room, the throne sat atop a dais, its black stone surface gleaming like polished obsidian.
The torches on the walls seemed to burn brighter here, casting an otherworldly glow over the gathering. The air was heavy with anticipation, and the shadows seemed to writhe and twist in the flickering light.
As the figure approached the throne, his long coat billowed behind him like a dark cloud, its hem rustling softly against the stone floor. His red eyes gleamed like embers in the torchlight, casting an otherworldly glow on the surroundings. With a graceful, almost feline movement, he ascended the dais and reached the throne.
Just as he was about to sit, the twelve vampire lieges rose to their feet in unison, their movements swift and silent as ghosts. They stood tall, their eyes fixed on their king, an act of respect.
The figure paused, his hand resting on the armrest of the throne, his gaze sweeping across the assembly. For a moment, the only sound was the soft crackling of the torches and the heavy breathing of the vampires.
Then, in a low, commanding voice, he spoke, "Sit."
As one, the lieges obeyed, their movements fluid and synchronized. They sank back into their seats, their eyes never leaving their king's face. The figure then sat down on the throne, his movements economical and precise. The black stone seemed to absorb the light around him, making him almost invisible except for his gleaming red eyes.
His long, silver hair cascaded down his back like a river of moonlight, and his sharp jawline seemed chiseled from granite. He wore a black crown adorned with tiny, glinting rubies, a symbol of his unyielding power.
King Valdor's gaze swept across the assembly, his eyes burning with an inner intensity as he began to speak. "Brothers and sisters, the time has come to discuss the future of our kingdom..."
"*coughs* Greetings brothers and sisters," King Valdor began, his voice like a low, ominous growl, "the night we takeover has finally arrived.
The last food hunt was a massive success I'll give credit to that but this time won't be like the last. We aren't just going to take a few and leave, tonight we make our presence known to the inferior race and take our position as the higher beings." And to which the lieges nodded in agreement.
Raising his hand, the liege of the 6th house, Lord Vladimir, gave a gentle indicated he had something to say.
His cold, chiseled face remained expressionless, but a hint of a malevolent grin played on his lips, revealing razor-sharp fangs.
"If I may, my king," he spoke in a low, velvety voice, his words dripping with sinister intent, "the humans are far too inferior for a meeting of all the lieges to have been called. I suggest you let me handle it, my king. And before sunrise, I'll have them all... stocked in the underground city, at your mercy." His grin grew wider, revealing more of his razor-sharp fangs, as he savored the prospect of unleashing terror upon the humans.
His gaze never left King Valdor's face, his eyes locked in a piercing stare, as if daring anyone to challenge his proposal. The air seemed to grow colder as he spoke, his very presence exuding an aura of malevolence that made even the other vampire lieges shift uncomfortably in their seats.
Being the second oldest vampire in the room, he was also the second strongest in the room after the king.
The king was hesitant about granting his request and Vladimir noticed.
Vladimir rose from his seat, his movements swift and sudden, and began to walk away from the throne room. He didn't bother to wait anymore for King Valdor's approval, his actions a clear display of defiance.
"Vladimir, wait!" Lady Nadira of the 11th house called out, her voice sharp with disapproval. "You can't just leave without the king's consent!"
Vladimir paused, his back still turned to the assembly, and slowly turned his head to face Lady Nadira. His eyes locked onto hers, his gaze cold as though he was staring into her soul, silencing her reprimand. The air seemed to grow colder as they both locked eyes, his presence radiating as he released his aura, and a breathtaking pressure filled the room.
King Valdor's voice broke the tension, his tone firm but measured. "Let him go, Nadira. Vladimir is free to take charge of the mission."
Lady Nadira's eyes flashed with anger, but she nodded curtly and remained seated, her gaze never leaving Vladimir's retreating figure. The other lieges watched in silence as he disappeared into the shadows.
As Vladimir exited the throne room, he felt a sense of excitement wash over him and he couldn't help but smile.
The darkness seemed to embrace him as he walked away from the castle area, his heart beating with an excitement that bordered on hunger. The night was set and Vladimir was ready to play.
_______
Panic gripped the citizens of Solaria as the alarms blared, signaling an imminent threat. Grand Marshal John's voice boomed through his communicator, "Report Area 51! Report!!" but was met with silence. Without hesitation, he rushed down from the top of the military base, his soldiers scrambling to keep up.
"Move, move, move, soldiers! We need to get to the gate area ASAP!" Grand Marshal John barked, his voice firm and commanding. His special defense team, dressed in black tactical gear with a silver emblem of a sword and shield, sprang into action. Their eyes burned with determination, knowing the alarm meant something bad was approaching, and they had to defend the people they swore to protect.
The corridors were empty, the citizens of Solaria locked down in their homes, as Grand Marshal John's team made their way to the gate area. Their black uniforms were a stark contrast to the regular army men's green fatigues, signifying their elite status and deadly precision. The black gear was designed for stealth, mobility, and intimidation, making them the base's secret weapon.
As they approached the gate area, the silence was oppressive, the only sound the hum of the armored vans' engines and the soft rustling of the soldiers' gear. Grand Marshal John's eyes narrowed, his mind racing. Suddenly, a huge explosion went off in front of them, and out of the smoke emerged a lone figure - Vladimir, his footsteps slow and heavy.
"Is this the whole force? This is an insult to my name, but nevertheless-" Vladimir began, but a bullet shot through his head, disrupting his talk. The hole instantly healed, but something was certain.
Vladimir was pissed as red eyes glowed brighter, he released his aura, a purple hue surrounding his body. A wave of pressure burst forth, descending on everyone within a fifty-kilometer radius, causing a weird feeling to overcome them.
"Kneel!" Vladimir commanded, his voice loud and authoritative. Without control over their bodies, Grand Marshal John, his soldiers and everyone within the range of his spell fall to their knees, their weapons slipping from their grasp.
"This is bad." Grand marshal John thought to himself.