The night in Transylvania was darker than ever. A thick, dense fog covered the mountains, and Dracula's castle loomed like a macabre shadow over the landscape. However, within its imposing walls, something supernatural was about to take place.
In a room lit only by flickering candles, the vampire lady, Dracula's wife, groaned in pain. She lay on a red velvet bed, sweating intensely while struggling against the pains of labor. The air was heavy with the scent of withered flowers and incense, but the anguished cries of his beloved echoed through the castle walls, reverberating through every distant corridor.
"My love, help me! The time has come..." Her voice trembled, broken by groans of suffering. Dracula, like a swift shadow, appeared before her in his supernatural form: a beautiful black bat, whose wings beat the air with a subtle but immensely urgent sound. In a swift movement, he transformed, assuming the majestic form of the Prince of Darkness, his worried gaze reflecting the tension that hung in the air.
"Bring clean cloths! The sarcophagus!"
Dracula ordered his assistants, his voice firm yet filled with anxiety. Immediately, his subordinates rushed to fulfill his orders, bringing the precious sarcophagus, made from rare materials and decorated with enchanting details.
This would be the place where their long-awaited son, the heir to the darkness, would spend his first nights, wrapped in his father's love and protection.
His wife's screams continued to echo through the halls, and each groan seemed to pierce Dracula's very soul, cutting through him like a blade of agony. He felt the weight of the moment, a mixture of fear and hope hanging in the air, as if the world itself was holding its breath in anticipation of that instant. Then, a final cry of pain was followed by an unexpected sound: the cry of a baby.
It was a sharp and unmistakable cry, a mix between the lament of a wolf and the whistle of a bat. Dracula couldn't help but smile with happiness, his heart overflowing with joy.
He approached his son, the heir to the kingdom of darkness. The baby, freshly born, lay in the sarcophagus, with his round, chubby cheeks, delicate skin, and sharp little teeth, ready to shine under the moonlight.
"Look at him, my love…" said Dracula, marveling, his eyes fixed on the little being that had just been born. The baby, with his large brown eyes and mischievous smile, looked more like a charming prince than a vampire.
His hair was softly styled back, giving him an appearance that defied any curse that might have been associated with his lineage.
With great care, Dracula took the little prince into his arms, cleaning him with soft cloths and dressing him in a black silk outfit, adorned with golden details. The cape, which seemed to be woven with shadows and secrets, was carefully placed over his shoulders.
The vampire looked at his son's face, which already bore an expression of someone destined to rule, someone who carried a unique grandeur within him.
"He's perfect," said Dracula's wife, her eyes shining with emotion.
"A vampire… but so beautiful, so… human."
Dracula smiled softly, though he knew his son was far from ordinary, even for a vampire.
Beauty was just the first of many mysteries awaiting the little heir.
Although the baby was a pure vampire, there was a peculiar difficulty: he could not feed on his mother's blood, for newborn vampires were too fragile to handle the power of blood.
The only viable option was to feed the baby with the milk of a sheep, which had been specially brought in for this moment. It was the only thing that could satisfy his hunger without putting him at risk.
As he fed from the sheep, carefully brought to the castle, the little one seemed enchanted by life. His nature, though peculiar, radiated a rare lightness, as if the burden of the vampire curse was still far from him, almost untouched.
Dracula watched attentively, absorbing the complexity of the moment. "It's too soon for blood," he murmured to himself.
"Only at seven years…"
The night passed in silence, as the first rays of the moon illuminated the castle, casting mysterious shadows over the newborn.
A few years later, as expected, little Drake had already begun transforming into a bat and flying after his prey, leaving his father overjoyed to see his son growing strong.
But what Dracula didn't anticipate was that his son's prey was not the creatures of the night, as vampires typically hunt. In fact, little Drake loved milk, and his prey were any animals that provided it. This soon spread among the townspeople.
The following day, the farmers began to complain that their cows and sheep were no longer producing milk.
Desperate, the townspeople began hiding their animals inside their homes, fearful that the young vampire was still roaming free. The town lived in terror due to the ongoing shortage of milk.
It was then that Dracula's wife began to notice that their son was becoming increasingly chubby, which left her deeply worried.
In a conversation with her husband, she voiced her concern. She suggested that it would be wise for Dracula to start watching their son at night, fearing that he was committing a forbidden act for vampires before reaching seven years—drinking blood.
And that night, under the full moon, the Count prepared to follow his son, determined to discover what was going on.