*Underground Plane. The Beginning of the Armageddon Era.*
*In the castle of the undisputed emperor of the Infernos, Octavius Vamp.*
The chamber was of unparalleled opulence, its walls draped in purple silk and adorned with intricate black patterns. A massive four-poster bed stood at the center of the room, its satin sheets scattered, bearing witness to the events of the previous night. The young boy, with an almost ethereal beauty, lay there, his spectral pallor accentuating the softness of his pink lips. His black hair, like ink-stained threads, framed his angelic face, while a reddish omega symbol glowed faintly on his forehead, adding a mysterious aura to his presence.
Around him, five naked young girls were scattered across the bed, their bodies intertwined in a peaceful but disorderly sleeping posture. Their hair fanned out on the pillows, and their skin, of different tones, formed a striking contrast with the dark sheets.
The chamber was in disarray, with overturned alcohol bottles littering the floor, their contents mingling with scattered clothes and personal belongings. The air was heavy with a musky odor, a blend of perfume, sweat, the lingering scent of alcohol, sex, and most of all, blood, creating an almost suffocating atmosphere.
The prince slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the soft light that filtered through the thick, half-drawn curtains. He stretched lazily, his arm falling across the chest of one of the sleeping girls by his side. A slight smirk played on his lips as he recalled the festivities of the night before.
*Knock* *Knock*
The voice of his butler echoed through the door: "Prince!"
The young man rose slowly, rubbing his eyes before getting up naked from the bed with a nonchalant grace. He cast a glance around, observing the scattered wine bottles on the floor and the disheveled clothes.
Upon opening the door, he found his butler, impassive, taking in the scene behind him. "It seems you enjoyed your hundredth birthday celebration, prince," he remarked in a neutral tone.
The prince shrugged, an amused smile playing on his lips. "One doesn't turn a century old every day," he replied, stretching again as his muscles loosened after the night's revelry.
"You are the only one absent for the meeting, and the emperor is very furious," the butler added, unbothered by the surrounding chaos.
The prince nodded, heading towards the bathroom to get ready. "As always... I'll be ready in a moment," he said, closing the door.
Linfer took a deep breath, savoring the air as if it were pure and fresh. "You'll be missed, girls," he murmured, licking his lips and revealing his sharp canines.
"Ah, damn! I forgot to ask Franklin to get rid of the bodies."
Linfer was not only a lover of alcohol and carnal pleasures but also an hematophage. After seducing and conquering a woman, he took advantage of their euphoric state to feast on their blood, earning him the disgust of his close associates. He ignored whether it was his unique affinity with blood that caused it, but he was utterly obsessed with it, especially with the blood of the young girls he had just deflowered.
He made his way to the bathroom, gazing at his reflection in the mirror. His androgynous face was angular enough to accentuate his masculinity. His red sclera and black reptilian irises gave him a piercing gaze. His long, ink-black hair framed his face.
"Mother, your son has become a grown man, and a handsome one at that," he murmured to himself, tying his hair back in a ponytail. With his clawed index finger, he made a small cut on his lip and tasted his own blood before the wound healed itself. "Hmm, delicious."
Linfer dressed in a black tunic and matching pants, adding a red belt and soft leather shoes. He did not forget to put on his necklace, the only memento of his mother: an inverted cross.
He smoothed his hair one last time before leaving his chamber. As he walked down the long corridor, he encountered a maid running with a tray. Linfer smirked. "You're late, girl."
"Please excuse me, prince, here's your apple of the day," she said apprehensively.
Linfer shook his head with a smile, revealing his canines. "Too late... You're my dish for today," he murmured, his warm breath brushing her neck. The maid blushed wildly, stuttering. She was indeed afraid of dying at the hands of this blood-loving psychopath, but it was Linfer. Dying by his hands was the dream of many women, even married ones, in the empire.
Linfer nibbled on her ear before taking the apple from under the cover. "Perhaps another time, girl. Don't forget to remind me to kiss you to death when I return."
"Yes-yes, without fail, Prince!" she replied, excitedly, with a beatific smile.
Linfer continued down the corridor towards his father's throne room, taking a bite of his apple. A red liquid trickled from the corner of his mouth. It was not an ordinary apple; it came from his personal garden, the Bloody Garden. It needn't be said what ingredients were used to grow those apple trees.
Finally, Linfer arrived before a large door adorned with strange patterns.