Far in the depths of the forests, vampires resided in large gothic castles and mansions. Some were left behind by past kings; others were built by vampires.

Vampires enjoyed luxuries and good taste, dressing in fine clothes, and adorning their mansions with fancy furniture. Their immortal beauty was an astonishing sight. Vampires were considered the most beautiful creatures on the planet. They healed at an amazing rate, never aged, were stronger than any human or beast, and were as quiet as the trees. They were perfectly flawless in skill and physical appearance.

Most vampires liked to hang out in groups while others were lone wolves who lived on their own. The ones who hung out in groups often hunted together and provided 'food' for everyone. It was harder for a loner to obtain a castle or a mansion unless he or she was a very powerful vampire.

One such powerful vampire, Mallen Zaliċ, crept up to the tops of the trees, looking at the heavy fortress multiple distances away, gleaming silver even in the late evening sunset.

Like all vampires, Mallen had exceptional attractiveness. His shoulder-length, long raven black hair was tinged in brown and tied back with an olive green ribbon that matched his eyes. His olive green eyes had persuaded most to their deaths, seducing with their out-of-worldly beauty and striking with vicious ferocity before they knew it was too late.

He dressed like he was from another century, wearing deep red, olive green, royal purple, and cream white clothing. His stylish black boots were furnished with greenish gold embellishments, boots that trampled in floods of blood that purged most of humanity.

The best of the best, Mallen had a sharp eye and an avaricious taste for blood. He held power as dearly as soldiers held their swords in battle and relished his title the way a king relished his crown. Rumors were that he was the first vampire born out of a deal with a demon, if such a thing was true. Mallen was known as the cruelest vampire in the land; there was no doubt about his total lack of empathy whenever he killed.

Mallen smirked at the sight of the wooden stakes and silver mirrors surrounding the garlic-laden fortress. I could easily jump in, like leaping into a bucket, Mallen thought, scanning over the top of the fortress. Like all vampires, Mallen could cover a long distance in a single jump, a feat about vampires that humans had not yet discovered.

Mallen remained hidden in the trees, waiting long after night's arrival. All the tents were dark except for a light still lit in one tent: Iérti's tent.

Iérti was inside his tent, looking over plans and scrolls, while everyone but the night shift guards were asleep.

Every move the generals made determined the fate of their armies and the lives of the people. The last time they ventured out, it ended up in a bloodbath, and a tenth of the army barely escaped with their lives. The former general of the East lands had been killed, resulting in the newly elected Iérti.

Iérti was determined to find a way to end bloodshed for good. The way to do it was to figure out how to get vampires to stop craving blood. That was an extremely difficult task, even if vampires wanted to know. Their very nature was hard to understand. As much as vampires knew about their own kind, they knew very little about why they were the way they are.

Seriously, why blood? Iérti pondered as he studied meticulously. They could've been thirsting for milk or whatever. Why is blood so essential to who they are?

Iérti suddenly looked up, remaining absolutely still. It was a small noise, barely louder than the sound of putting a sheet of paper on a table, but Iérti heard it. He had always had exceptional hearing, the best out of anyone around him. It was like a sixth sense to Iérti, a rare awareness he possessed. He always felt more alert than others and he could sense things before anyone else sensed them.

Iérti slowly turned around, his eyes quickly moving around. His human eyes didn't notice Mallen crouched behind a bush, not far from Iérti. Mallen's eyes widened in astonishment, impressed that a human was able to detect him, as skilled as he was in silent movement. Even the guards hadn't seen Mallen jump nor heard his footsteps land softly on the grass.

does have a higher perception than most people, Mallen thought, thinking he shouldn't be surprised, given how much time he spent watching him over the years, yet he was surprised. Mallen had seen Iérti in battle before, had seen his uncanny discernment and sensitivity. It was then that he first thought of turning him into a vampire, thinking of how powerful Iérti would be with ultra-heightened senses.

Vampires had turned humans into vampires before, back when male vampires lusted for female humans and ended up turning them into their own kind. Some humans wanted to become vampires, desiring their immortality and exceptional beauty. But most stayed away, fearing the killers. And most vampires cared more about drinking their prey than turning them.

But interested Mallen. The way he willingly lost precious hours of sleep, staying up all night and reading over the scrolls about vampires, studying their past, fixated on learning their history and where they came from.

What human does that? Mallen thought, deeply curious as well as confounded.

unsheathed his garlic-laden silver sword. He pushed the thick cloth tent door aside as he walked out of the tent, his alert eyes carefully scrutinizing every detail of the landscape.

Mallen remained hidden, barely breathing as he stayed absolutely still. The stench of garlic was repeatedly burning him alive, but he was the oldest vampire around; therefore, he was able to hold it off longer than most other vampires could. Though his skin burned and agony pierced him, Mallen kept his pain inside, clenching his teeth and fangs.

Iérti's footsteps stopped right in front of Mallen. The vampire held his breath, not moving a muscle. Sensing danger present, 's eyes darted, moving across every blade of grass and every shadow. He didn't move his head but only his eyes, his body as still as the vampire's. Iérti stepped forward, his sword grazing shy of Mallen's shoulder. Mallen's eyes followed Iérti's movements, every fraction of a second accounted for.

There was a long moment of silence, Iérti within death's distance as death stared him down. Mallen could've easily killed him and nobody would've heard, but he didn't want to kill this human. Rather, he wanted to observe him further.

After several cautious minutes that felt like an eternity, Iérti stepped back from the bush and returned to his tent.

Mallen instantly jumped out and made for the wall, leaping out as easily as a deer or gazelle over a log. He ran for many distances before throwing himself in a river, gasping in relief when his scorching burns made contact with the cold water. His eyes turned red as he emerged from the water, needing to feed to satisfy his extreme dehydration.

A patrol rider met his unfortunate end in the forest. He was instantly swept off his horse and knocked to the ground before he even knew what befell him. Mallen was so quick that the man didn't even have time to scream; Mallen's fangs were already in his neck before the man touched ground.

After drinking his fill, Mallen threw the man in the river, disposing of his meal. He took the reins of the frightened patrol rider's horse, tossing a glance over his shoulder towards the direction of the fortress, before heading back to his castle, his hair and clothes still wet from the river water.

Iérti heard Mallen jump out, but by the time he whipped the tent door open, Mallen was already several distances away in the forest.

A passing soldier stopped near Iérti, asking, "General, is everything alright?"

"I heard a noise," said Iérti, suspicion returning as he suddenly hacked at the bush with his sword. The soldier jumped, but Iérti cut branches and leaves. There was nobody there.

"Damn," Iérti muttered. He was sure he had heard something and he realized that whatever it was, was now gone.

Iérti slammed his sword back in its sheath and said to the soldier in a serious tone, "Keep a careful watch in case something's out there" before returning to his tent.

Though dawn was to approach within a few hours, sleep evaded . He lay awake in his tent, wondering over the noise he heard. He was sure a vampire had been in that bush, but he was puzzled and trying to figure out how it was possible.

Humans made sure it was near impossible to have a crack in the system. Every fortress was designed in such a way that a vampire wouldn't be unable to come near the fortress just from the garlic stench alone. The fortress was very vampire-proof.

So how was one able to get inside? Iérti thought, unable to let it rest. He was baffled by the prospect of a vampire getting inside the fortress and leaving without even feeding on anyone. Even if a vampire did venture inside the fortress, how were they able to slip in and out unnoticed? And on and on Iérti's thoughts continued throughout the night.

That same night, Mallen lay awake in his castle, thinking of how Iérti detected him. A man with sharp, keen senses like his must never die, Mallen thought, intending to turn Iérti into a vampire. He already forbade other vampires from even thinking of feeding on Iérti. I want Iérti alive. I want to make him into the most powerful vampire that ever lived.

The human general finally went to sleep a few hours after dawn, not knowing the scheming vampire he heard last night also went to sleep.