The night in Transylvania was darker than ever. A thick, dense fog covered the mountains, and Count Dracula's castle loomed like a macabre shadow over the landscape. However, within its imposing walls, something supernatural was about to happen.
In a room illuminated only by flickering candles, the vampire lady, Dracula's wife, groaned in pain. She lay on a red velvet bed, sweating profusely as she battled the pains of childbirth. The air was thick with the scent of withered flowers and incense, but the anguished screams of his beloved echoed through the castle walls, reverberating through each distant corridor.
"My love, help me! The moment has come..." Her voice trembled, broken by the groans of suffering. Dracula, like a swift shadow, appeared before her in his supernatural form: a beautiful black bat, whose wings flapped the air with a subtle yet immensely urgent sound. In a quick movement, he transformed, assuming the majestic form of the Prince of Darkness, his worried gaze reflecting the tension that filled the air.
"Bring clean cloths! The sarcophagus!" Dracula ordered his servants, his voice firm but full of anxiety. Immediately, his subordinates ran to fulfill his orders, bringing the precious sarcophagus made of rare materials, adorned with enchanting details.
This would be the place where their much-anticipated child, the heir of the dark kingdom, would spend his first nights, wrapped in the love and protection of his father.
His wife's screams continued to echo through the halls, and each groan seemed to pierce Dracula's soul, cutting 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 this instant. Then, a final scream of pain was followed by an unexpected sound: the cry of a baby.
It was a sharp, unmistakable cry, a mix between the lament of a wolf and the whistle of a bat. Dracula could not help but smile in happiness, his heart overflowing with joy.
He approached his son, the heir to the realm of darkness. The newborn lay in the sarcophagus, with chubby, round cheeks, delicate skin, and sharp little teeth, ready to gleam under the moonlight.
"Look at him, my love…" Dracula said, amazed, his eyes fixed on the little being that had just been born. The baby, with his big brown eyes and mischievous smile, looked more like an enchanting 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. Carefully, Dracula picked up the little prince in his arms, cleaning him with soft cloths and dressing him in a black silk outfit, adorned with golden details. The cape, which seemed woven with shadows and secrets, was carefully placed over his shoulders.
The vampire looked at his son's face, which already displayed the expression of someone destined to rule, someone who carried a unique greatness within him.
"He's perfect," Dracula's wife said, her eyes sparkling 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 only the first of many mysteries awaiting the little heir. Although the baby was a pure vampire, there was one peculiar difficulty: he could not feed on his mother's blood, as newborn vampires were too fragile to handle the power of blood.
The only viable option was to feed the baby sheep's milk, which had been specially brought for this moment. It was the only thing that could satisfy his hunger without putting him at risk.
As he fed on the sheep, carefully brought to the castle, the little one seemed enchanted with life. His nature, though peculiar, radiated a rare lightness, as if the burden of the vampire curse was still very distant from him, almost untouched.
Dracula watched intently, absorbing the complexity of the moment. "It's still too soon for blood," he murmured to himself.
"Only at seven years old…"
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, young Drake had already begun to transform into a bat and fly after his prey, leaving his father beaming with pride as he saw his son growing strong.
But what Dracula did not foresee was that his son's prey were not the creatures of the night, as vampires usually hunt. In fact, young Drake loved milk, and his prey were any animals that could provide it. This soon spread among the villagers.
The next day, farmers began to complain that their cows and sheep were no longer producing milk.
Desperate, the villagers began hiding their animals inside their homes, fearing that the young vampire was still wandering freely. The town lived in terror due to the continued milk shortage.
It was then that Dracula's wife began to notice that her son was getting increasingly plump, which deeply worried her.
In a conversation with her husband, she expressed her concern. She suggested it would be wise for Dracula to start watching over their son during the night, fearing that he might be committing a forbidden act for vampires before reaching the age of seven—drinking blood.
And that night, under the full moon, Count Dracula prepared to follow his son, determined to discover what was happening.
The full moon night in Transylvania brought with it an unsettling silence. The cold wind whispered through the mountains, and Dracula's castle rose like an imposing shadow under the night sky. Within its walls, the tranquility that had always reigned was about to be broken by an unexpected event.
Drake, a plump, joyful, and mischievous boy, loved milk. No matter the time, whenever he felt hungry, he searched for his bowl of fresh milk or flew across the region of Bucharest and the small town of Brașov, like a true enthusiast.
However, that night, something felt different. Despite his usual joy and energy, Drake felt a strange sensation in the air. A sweet scent, with a touch of acidity and something captivating, floated around him—something new, something that irresistibly drew him in. He got up from his chair and began to follow the aroma with the curiosity of an eager child.
"What is that smell?" he murmured to himself, his eyes shining with excitement.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, the vision he had was even more disturbing. Images of a red liquid appeared in his mind, and soon he found himself covered in that liquid. The scent intensified, and an inexplicable need took over his stomach, making it growl, begging for more.
The aroma led him to transform into a little fat vampire, barely able to fly. He bumped from tree to tree, from wall to wall, until he reached the old door of a barn far from the castle, almost in the dense forest. He had never dared to go there before, but that night, something urged him to continue. Without hesitation, he pushed open the rusty door and entered, immediately enveloped by the sweet scent filling the air. What he found left him wide-eyed: a large pot full of a sticky, red substance. It was nothing less than a cauldron of strawberry jelly with mirchilos, something he couldn't identify, but for some reason, it called to him.
Drake didn't think twice. With a mischievous smile, he grabbed a spoon and served himself the jelly, devouring it greedily. The sweet taste seemed to be exactly what he was looking for, but at the same time, something inside him began to stir, something he couldn't understand. With each spoonful, an intense sensation of pleasure overtook his body, but at the same time, a strange discomfort spread, as if something more was at stake. The sweet wasn't just tasty. It was touching something deep inside Drake, something ancestral.
But the momentary satisfaction was soon replaced by an unexpected pain. Drake felt a pressure in his chest, an uncomfortable sensation that made him stop eating. He couldn't explain what was happening. He looked at the pot, which seemed so innocent, but deep down, he knew something was wrong.
"Why am I feeling this?" he thought, not understanding the growing pain in his chest.
Far away, in the castle, Dracula, the Count, felt an increasing unease. Something was happening to his son. The paternal instinct, sharpened over centuries of existence, alerted him that Drake was in danger. The sweet scent in the air was not normal, and something told Dracula that he needed to follow his son. So, with the speed of a bat, he transformed into his most feared form and silently flew to the source of that smell, an old barn in the forbidden forest.
When Dracula reached the place, he saw his son there, covered in the red jelly. The Count stood frozen for a moment before the scene. At first, he thought Drake was simply indulging in a simple pleasure, but when he saw the expression on his face—those traces of pain and confusion—he knew something was deeply wrong.
"Drake!" the Count exclaimed, his voice deep and concerned. "What have you done, my son?"
Drake looked at him, his eyes still gleaming with excitement, but with a slight confusion on his face.
"Father… I don't know… what happened? The smell… the jelly… it was so good… But now… something's wrong."
Dracula calmly approached, but fear was visible in his eyes.
"This is not just jelly, my son. I knew something was happening, but I never imagined it would be this."
Drake looked at the pot and then at his father, not understanding what was going on.
"What's wrong with it? It was just jelly… nothing more."
Dracula let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of the situation.
"What you don't understand, Drake, is that this jelly is not just a sweet. It is… altering something inside you. Something deep, something related to our lineage, to our ancestors. It's not just the taste. You are being drawn to something you shouldn't."
The Count looked at his son with a mixture of concern and frustration. The jelly, seemingly harmless, was awakening something in Drake's instincts. Something vampires should never touch. Something that messed with the roots of their lineage, with the blood flowing in their veins.
"I… I just wanted… to understand what it was," Drake said, his voice low, almost sad. "I didn't know it… could be harmful."
Dracula gazed at his son with a serious look, the pain in his chest growing even more. He knew this experience was just beginning. Whatever had been awakened in that barn, perhaps it wasn't so simple to resolve. But one thing was certain: he would not let his son fall into temptation again.
"We need to go back home, Drake," said Dracula, his voice firm. "There are things about our lineage you still don't understand. And this jelly… is not for us. Let's go."
Drake, still with a heavy heart and confusion, followed his father, feeling more distant from his own body than ever. He didn't know what the future held, but that night, with the sweet smell and the red visions, something inside him had changed—something he certainly couldn't ignore.
The journey back to the castle was silent. The night wind seemed to whisper secrets, and the full moon, now high in the sky, cast long and mysterious shadows along the way. Drake, walking alongside his father, felt uneasy. The weight of the experience in the barn still haunted him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something inside him had changed, something deep and uncontrollable. The pain in his chest he had felt seemed to have left a mark, an invisible but intense scar.
Dracula walked ahead, firm steps, but his gaze lost in the darkness. He was worried about what had happened that night. He knew the jelly wasn't just an innocent sweet. Something bigger was at play—something that had awakened in Drake a power vampires didn't always control.
"Father…" Drake began, his voice low and filled with uncertainty. "What was that? What happened with the jelly?"
Dracula stopped, his eyes fixed on the darkness ahead. He sighed deeply, as if preparing for a revelation he didn't want to make. When he turned to face his son, his expression was marked by a contained sadness.
"It wasn't just jelly, my son," Dracula answered, his voice grave. "It was a rare substance, a nectar that, in our ancestors, was considered… forbidden."
"Forbidden?" Drake repeated, confused. "But… why? What's wrong with it?"
Dracula hesitated, his eyes glowing with a mix of concern and regret. "This nectar has the power to awaken something very old inside a vampire. A flame of desire, of… power. Something that, if not controlled, could lead to a dark and irreversible path."
Drake looked at his father, eyes wide with surprise and fear. "You're saying that I… was drawn to this power?"
"Yes," Dracula said, with a serious look. "But what you don't know is that while it may awaken something great, it can also be your end. Something inside us, something very old, is being awakened. And I fear that if this continues, you will no longer be the son I knew."
These words hung in the air like a shadow. Drake felt a chill run down his spine, something making him question the reality around him. Until that moment, he had always felt comfortable with who he was, with his little mischief and cravings for milk. But now, it seemed that something much bigger was approaching, something he couldn't ignore.
"Father, what should I do?" Drake asked, his tone desperate. "I don't want to be… like the others."
"I know, my son," Dracula answered softly. "But now you must understand that the line between what we are and what we can become is very thin. And we must learn to control it. For your own good, and for everyone's."
Dracula placed his hand on Drake's shoulder, a gesture of comfort, but also of warning. "You must resist, Drake. You are still young, but you must learn to master your desires. Otherwise, what has been awakened inside you may lead you down a path from which there is no return."
The path back to the castle seemed longer than ever, and the sound of their footsteps echoed through the forest, breaking the silence that surrounded them. When they finally arrived, Dracula looked at his son one last time before entering the castle.
"Now, go rest," he said, his voice softened by concern. "But remember, Drake. Nothing will be the same. The power you experienced tonight is just the beginning."
Drake nodded silently, feeling the gravity of his father's words sinking deeper into his mind. He knew the future would no longer be simple and that he was about to face something much darker and more powerful than he had ever imagined.
And so, that night full of secrets and shadows, father and son parted ways, knowing that the true battle was just beginning.