You walk inside the tavern by yourself, feeling the weight of your Leu-filled wallet in your side pocket. You walk along, and immediately garner the attention of everyone in the bar. Your garb makes it immediately clear to anyone but the most ignorant or simply stupid of the peasants that you're a servant of Count Grey. The tavern quickly clears out, heading to their various homes, leaving only a few idiots too old and stubborn or young and cocky to realize staying near you is death. 


You toss a crumpled note on the counter, looking up at the bar tender expectantly. Soon, you find yourself drinking a pint, a plate of chicken, boiled potatoes and cabbage in front of you. You smile, eating it up eagerly, downing the pint in a few gulps. You belch loudly, smiling as you find yourself now filled with food, warm and content.


"Where's the bathroom?" you ask, feeling the need to piss rising as your full bladder demands you act.


"Bathroom's broken. Go outside," the bar-tender replies.


You raise an eyebrow, tapping on your hat.


"Do you know who I am? Who I work for?" you ask.


"I do. If he shows up here, I'm as happy to show him the broken toilet as I am you."


You sigh, standing and walking outside into the alley. You unzip your trousers and pull out your dick, pissing onto the side of the old building.


Suddenly, the cold blade of a knife is pressed against your throat.


"Don't move," a deep voice whispers. "Hands in the air."


"Do you expect me to let go of my dick and piss on myself?" you ask, more annoyed than scared.


"Finish up," the voice says.


You finish pissing, popping your genitalia back in your trousers, buttoning it up, and slowly turn to face your attack. Two teens, barely fifteen by the looks of it, both with short blond hair, one skinny, on large and muscular, stare at you. The skinny one holds a pistol, while the big one holds the knife pressed against your throat.


"What's this about, gents? Revenge?" you ask, knowing just how many family's want your blood for taking their daughter's.


"What? We don't know you," the big one says. 


"The wallet. Now," the skinny one says.


You pause, frowning.


"Are you seriously fucking telling me you've decided to mug me?" you ask, surprised.


"Why the fuck wouldn't we?" the big one asks, pushing you against the wall as the skinny one draws his own knife with his left hand, strolling forward to press the barrel against your temple.


"Wallet. Now," he says.


"Fucking idiots. You don't recognize the outfit, eh? I'm a fucking Ghoul, Count Grey's personal assistant."


The big one looks at the skinny one nervously.


"Maybe we should let him go," the big one asks.


"He's bluffing," the skinny one says, licking his lips. "Ghouls... ghouls are rotten, aren't they?"


"The sun's down, boys. Count Grey's due to wake..."


"Shut it! Wallet, now!" the skinny one commands.

You give them the wallet

You hand over your wallet, giving them the finger as you do.


"Thanks," the skinny one smiles, grabbing it from your hand as he smacks you in the head with the gun, knocking you to the floor.


"What are you doing?" the big one asks. "We don't need to kill him! We got the wallet!"


You look up to see the barrel of the gun pointing directly at your head.


"You heard what he said. He's with the count. If we kill him now, the count won't come after us!" the skinny one knows. "He's seen our faces."


"He doesn't know our names," the big one says.


"I'm Lucas. That's Mikhail," the skinny one said.


"What the fuck!?" the big one, Mikhail replies.


"We have to kill him. Now even you'd agree to that," Lucas says.


"Always kill your prey. You don't want to let them come back and bite you in the throat," a voice says.


Count Grey steps from the shadows, his teeth curved in a grin, his fangs prominent. He grabs Lucas' gun arm, twisting it until Lucas drops the gun. Mikhail charges with a knife, but with a quick, well-planted punch to the chest sends him to the floor, badly winded. You stand up, grabbing the gun as well as drawing your own, pointing one at each of the thieves.


"What, are you some fucking cowboy with your guns? Shoot, come on!" Lucas says, even though his bottom lip is quivering.


"Tell me, Samuel. How did they manage to jump you?" Count Grey asks, tracing a finger down Lucas' nose.


"I was pissing," you admit.


"Hmmm... tell me, where is your family?" Count Grey asks, turning his attention to the teens.


"Dead," Lucas answers.


"Well then, you've shown balls, willingness to kill and the ability to ambush. Perhaps... Samuel, you were the one mugged. What happened? Were you behaving stupidly and ambushed by some lackluster fools, or are these two deserving of becoming ghouls?"

You suggest the teens become ghouls

"They have potential," you admit.


"Young men, I'll give you a choice. I could kill you now, drain your blood and return to my castle for the night."


"What's the other option?" Mikhail asks.


"Join me. Let me take you on as my... apprentice. As my servant. As my slave. As whatever I need you to be. In exchange for your servitude, I offer your life."


"Jesus, do you have that memorized?" you mutter, under your breath.


"I'm in," Lucas says immediately, as Mikhail pauses, before nodding in agreement.


"Perfect," the vampire smiles. "The coach is full. You'll walk behind it. No breaks. No time to pack. Immediately. If you're too pathetic for that, you might as well die of exhaustion."


With that, Count Grey walks off, and you eagerly follow.

Three Years Later...

You watch as the Twins hold the two girls in front of you, knives in their hands. Count Grey stands to your side, watching intently.


"Do it," Count Grey commands.


Mikhail takes a deep breath, stabbing the girl in the throat. He closes his eye as the girl twitches, blood spurting out as he slices through her throat.


"Help..." the girl gurgles, blood filling her throat, before he head drops to the side.


Lucas looks at his master, before down at the girl. He presses the knife to the girl's wrist, slicing it open. As the girl screams, before he wraps his left arm around her throat and beginning to strangle her to prevent her from screaming.


"What are you doing?" Count Grey asks, more curious than angry. 


"If she's left alive, the heart keeps pumping. More blood will spurt out for you to consume," Lucas says, as the girl sobs desperately.


"Interesting," Count Grey says. "Grab your blood bags and follow me. Samuel, no need to see this. You've filled countless bottles."


"Yes, sir," you reply.


You walk away, walking to the bedroom, lying down in the bed. You rest your head against the pillow, and drift off to sleep.


You awaken about an hour later, with Count Grey staring at you from the doorway.


"Yes?" you ask nervously.


"There's going to be some changes in this castle, understood? Now that we have three ghouls. You and the others will extend our power. First, it's important you should know. I'm not the only vampire."


"I know," you reply, confused. "We've fought rival Vampires, hunted those that went feral with bloodlust, taken out vampiric bandits..."


"I mean," Count Grey says, annoyed by the interruption. "That I'm not the only vampire on our side. You're family with the three vassal vampires that run the various subsections of the region, yes?"


"Yes," you reply. "The Draven Family House, the Alexa Family House and the Mihrab Family House."


"Not exactly. These are not the names of families. They're the names of individuals. I have three vampires under by control, acting as my lieutenants. Their names are Draven, Mihrab and Alexa." 


"Are they threats?"


"No. You just need to know of them. If needs be, you'll kill one someday. Maybe all three. Understood?"


"Yes, sir," you reply.


"Good. Train and drill with the Twins more. You'll need to become a better fighter. Now, sleep."


With that, Count Grey closes the door, leaving you in the dark room.


Just knowing Count Grey has constant access to you prevents you from sleeping.

Three Years Later...

The coach drives down the road as the sun begins to fall from its high perch in the sky.You breath in the cold air, as Haygarth drives the horse forward. You take a cigarette from your pocket, lighting it with a match. You breath in the smoke, closing your eyes as you feel it fill your lungs, before exhaling.


"Pass it over," Mikhail says, reaching a gloved hand forward to grab at the cigarette from inside the coach.


"Haygarth? How far?" you ask.


"We're here," Haygarth mutters. "Yes, yes, we're here."


The coach pulls up to the side of an old brick tavern, the Raven's Quill.


"Is he late?" you ask. "What time is he supposed to be here?"


"Five-ish," Mikhail says, opening his pocket watch. "It's five now."


"He's late," you say.


"He said five-ish. That could be another hour, knowing Lucas," Mikhail says.


You nod, and turn to look at your companion.


Mikhail is an even uglier creature. The man is 6'4, hunched up in the back seat. His muscles bulge, easily filling the extra large jacket. His nose has clearly been broken a dozen times over, his face looking similar. He looks like a shaven ogre, and although quiet, he's been quite a sweet man despite his line of work.


"He's here," Haygarth says.


Mikhail goes through his jacket pocket, as Lucas opens the side door of the coach. He looks angelic, like a grown-up Cherub, with blond hair, rosy cheeks and a flashing smile. A woman is at his side, a little younger than you.


"Brother, thank you for the lift!" Lucas says. "This is Dasha. I really think she's a special one. Hop in, darling."


Dasha smiles nervously, getting into the car. She extends a hand to Mikhail, smiling.


"Hi, I'm Dasha. pleasure to meet…" Dasha says.


Mikhail grabs Dasha's head, quickly covering her mouth with his massive hand. He pours the bottle in his hand out onto a rag, soaking it, before pressing it tightly against her face. She lets out a muffled scream before slowly beginning to stop struggling. Soon, Dasha goes still. Mikhail props her up, and Lucas climbs into the carriage. 


"She was a real bitch. Always saying she should stay with her friends, or tell them where she's going, or offering to pay for a hired coach home. If someone like that gets someone like me, they should just keep their fucking mouth shut," Lucas complains.


"Clearly she shouldn't have," you point out.


"Whatever," Lucas says, grabbing the cigarette and fumbling through his coat pocket for some matches.


"How long will that last?" you ask in reference to the chloroform.


"Six hours, give or take," Mikhail says.


"How long to the castle?" Lucas asks, lighting the cigarette.


"Three," Mikhail says.


"Four, yes, yes, definitely four," Haygarth says. "The roads are icy."


"Fantastic, let's get the fuck out of here," Lucas says.

Four Hours Later...

The coach drives inside the huge gates of the huge castle, as the sky turns gold and twilight fills the world with a beautiful feeling of serenity. The coach pulls into the stables, where Haygarth immediately gets to work with the horses. Mikhail opens the coach door, putting Dasha over his shoulder and walking towards the keep. You follow him, as does Lucas, walking alongside him as Dasha stirs with a groan, but doesn't break her slumber.


You walk into the keep, and quickly down to the dungeons. The large dungeon is covered with an earth floor, and four occupied cells. Four women, all of similar age and appearance to Dasha, all whose names you've forgotten, are there. Their mouths are gagged, though they scream desperately as they see you enter. Mikhail mutters a curse under his breath as he tries not to make eye contact with the women, but Lucas smiles and cheerfully waves at women. Mikhail carries Dasha to an empty cell, opening it and laying her gently on the cot inside. He locks the cell behind him, and looks at you both.


"The sun is down. Should we wake him?" Mikhail asks.


"Leave him. It's late. We'll wake him in an hour," Lucas says.


You nod, turning and walking away from the twins. You head up the stone staircase towards the kitchen. Despite the fact that this building is around a thousand years old, it's surprisingly well furnished. Count Grey has kept the house furnished with modern technology, one of the bonuses of controlling a tiny pocket of land and resources. As long as King Carol I got his taxes, he left Count Grey do as he pleased.


You open a cabinet, taking out a somewhat stale sugar cookie and biting into it. You make yourself a sandwich from cold meat, nuts and dates, and quietly consume it, while watching as the world blackens. Just as you see the first red haze on the horizon of the rising blood moon, you quickly turn and head quickly down to the Count's chambers. You hurry down the stairs, quickly heading to the lowest floor, at the center of the castle. Mikhail is already waiting in the dark room, empty except for a single, candle-adored coffin leaning against the stone wall.


The coffin in intricate, a large, black wooden coffin with an intricate, thorny pattern, and a single silver, demonic face with a roaring mouth with a pair of fangs on the front. You can feel the dark feeling emanating from it. It makes you feel cold just looking at it, and you shudder at the thought of what lies inside. Nonetheless, it is your duty to awaken your master.


Lucas hurries into the room,, dropping his cigarette and crushing it under his heel. He looks at both of you.


"Oh good, we're all here. Let's do it, shall we?" Lucas says.


"Which one of us wakes him tonight?" you say.


Lucas smiles, holding up his bandaged wrist.


"I did yesterday."


Mikhail shows you the two-day old cut on his upper arm You draw your dagger, pressing it against your forearm and gently slicing it open. You take in a deep breath as you feel the sharp pain. Blood pours down your arm, and your press the open cut into the roaring mouth of the silver ideal, smearing it with blood. You count to three, before leaning in.


"Glorious Master, the night has come and the world is yours," you whisper.


You step back as the coffin door is pushed open. Inside stands the Count. Dried blood cakes the corners of his mouth, as he lets out a growl, flashing his long, curved fangs, that look sharper than a needle. His black, soulless eyes peer into yours, as you take a deep breath. You outstretch your arm, and he walks forward, grabbing you by the wrist. He brings your arm to his mouth, and begins to suck. He sucks the blood that pumps from your cut as you wince, before releasing you. Mikhail hands you a roll of bandage, which you quickly begin wrapping them around your wound. Count Grey walks away from you, strolling towards the lounge. He walks up the stone stairs, before heading to the glass window. He stares out at the darkness, and the rising red moon.


"Good... good..." he says. "Prepare altar. The Viceroys will be here soon."


You nod eagerly, and quickly head down to the dungeons, followed by the others. The gagged woman are in the cells, curled up and terrified. Dasha is still unconscious, which gives you pause.


"The new girl, Dasha, look at her," you say.


"What of her?" Lucas asks.


"She's still not awake. Maybe you used too much chloroform, Mikhail," you say.


"No, I used the normal amount. Maybe she had a medical condition," Mikhail says.


"Who the fuck cares?" Lucas asks.


"What if she's dead? We'll be one victim short? Do you want to be the sacrifice?" you say.


Lucas pauses, opening the cell and walking towards her. He drops to his knee, putting a hand against her chest.


"She's breathing. Just unconscious. The idiot must've used too much chloroform. She's alive, she'll do, alright?"


Mikhail shrugs, slinging the girl over his shoulder. Lucas opens the two other cells, grabbing the women inside and pulling them along by their hair. The girls are shackled, so they're incapable of struggling much, but any resistance leads quickly to a punch to the side of the head.


"Samuel, get the last two!" Lucas shouts.


You grab the cell keys, walking over. One of the girl stares at you with rage, the other sits in the back corner in terror. You open the scared girl's cell first, grabbing her by her chain. You drag her out of the cell, before opening the second cell and grabbing the more resistant girl.


"Don't fight me on this. You're not going to win this, and I don't want to hurt you," you say.


You pull on the second girl's chain, but she plants her feet down and stares at you.

You hit the girl

You swing your fist, smashing into the side of the girl's head, as she crumples to her knees. She lets out a pained moan through her gag, and as blood trickles down the side of her face, her eyes fill with fear. You pull on her chain again and she follows. You quickly lead the two along the hallway, before up the stairs, into the "church". You hear Count Grey's dark, cold, emotionless voice from the main hall.


"Welcome, Viceroys. Did you decide to come together, or simply met on the road here?"


"Coincidence, my lord," another far deeper voice booms, one more filled with malice and hatred than Count Grey's.


"Good, good. Haygarth!" Count Grey shouts.


"Yes, yes master?" Haygarth's voice comes back from the stables.


"Come, fetch the Viceroy's coats!"


"Yes, yes sir!" Haygarth says, quickly hurrying to them.


You turn your attention back to the task at hand. In front of you in a large, open stone room. Groves cover the stone floor, making the shape of a large pentagram. Lucas' two prisoners are kneeling at two of the points of the pentagram chained to a loop in the stone to prevent them from moving, while Dasha lies at the third, her unconscious state meaning she doesn't need to be chained up. 


"Come on," you say, raising your fist to threaten the second girl. You force her to kneel on the ground and chain her to the loop in the ground. You drag the first girl to the other, doing the same.


Mikhail and Lucas stand off to the side, watching them. Mikhail looks down, looking vaguely embarrassed at his part in this. Lucas, however, seems ecstatic. He walks forward, grinning as he draws his dagger.


"Oh boy, look at that!" he says, dropping to his knees in front of a girl. "Look at that. You see the pentagram? You see those deep, thick groves? I'm going to fill them with your blood. You like that? You ready?"


The girl frantically begins to struggle, as Lucas smiles. Lucas slices the girl's throat open, as blood pours out, flooding into the grove and running along. The girl gurgles as blood pours through her throat, and Lucas lets the head fall to the ground over the grove, letting the blood pour out into it.


"Mikhail, come on, we need this ready for the Viceroys and Count Grey!" he says.


"I am not a butcher," Mikhail says softly, as Lucas' eyes narrow.


"Don't fucking take the high road. You drugged every whore here, knowing it was all so we'd slit there throats here. You're as much a murderer as I am."


Mikhail looks to the ground, opening his mouth as if to say something, but closing it just as quickly.


"That's what I thought. Samuel, grab your knife, let's get to work."

You join in

You sigh, drawing your knife as Lucas smiles.


"If you're going to lead to someone's death, at least have the fucking balls to be the one who uses the knife," he says.


Lucas walks over to the next girl, as you walk up to one. She tries to struggle, but you grab her by the hair, holding her vulnerable throat out and slicing it open with a long cut, before slowly lowering her head to above the grove. Lucas grabs the next girl by the hair, holding her forward and quickly slashing her throat as the blood pours out. You walk to the next one, quickly driving the sword through her neck, slicing open her fleshy throat and letting her bleed into the groove.


"Watch them die, Mikhail. You choose for this to happen. Whether you want to actually hold the knife or watch, you're a fucking monster. We all are. At least, we're willing to fulfill our role."


"Lucas! Mikhail! Samuel! Come down here!" Count Grey asks. "Quickly!"


"We need to go," Mikhail says, quickly turning and heading towards the door.


You quickly hurry towards the main hall, walking down the spiraling stairs. Count Grey stands there, alongside his three Viceroys, and Haygarth rushing to put away coats.


Viceroy Draven is a tall,well-muscled man. He has long, curly black hair, and instead of the black attire of the other three, he instead dons  steel plated armor which covers  him from the neck down.  A sword hangs by his side. From what you know, he's almost five hundred years old, once being and most likely still remaining a formidable warrior. He looks at you, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you. He lets out a low, guttural growling at the sight of you. Even after years of work around Count Grey, the man manages to make you feel like little more than a blood bag.


The second, Viceroy Mihrab, is even older, almost as old as Count Grey. His skin seems unusually tight,  a light brown in complex, his face sunken, his eyes lacking any emotion whatsoever. He wears dark attire, his eyes glancing in your direction away for a second, before peering away with disinterest. He doesn't appear to be armed, but with the long, sharp fingernails on his hand that at that length qualify as swords as well as long fangs, he doesn't need them.


The final Viceroy, Alexa, is the only woman of te group. She wears a black hooded cloak, her pale, scarred face underneath, with unnaturally long fangs even for one of her kind to halfway down towards her chin. She leans against the wall, looking at you without a single noise. She stares at you like a starved wolf. Something tells you that of all those present, she's the biggest threat. 


"Yes, master?" Mikhail says, standing up straight.


"Werewolves spotted on Hangman's Trail," he says. "They're amassing. Perhaps for a strike."


You pause, and can hear the distant howls of what lies between monsters and men.


"We'll push them back, sir," Mikhail nods. 


Mikhail turns away, and quickly begins heading to the armory. You follow, and you all quickly descend the stairs to the armory. You walk inside, grabbing a padded leather duster and slinging it over. You grab a rifle, as well as several magazines of silver bullets, popping them in a satchel that you put over your head. 


Now suitably armed, you grab a lantern, walking out towards the main hall. The Vampires have left, no doubt to partake in some drinks, discuss future plans, before beginning the ritual and, imbued with a power that grows as the blood moan rises, slaughtering dozens of helpless villagers.


You walk out the hall doors, pushing the door open and entering the dark night. You walk along the earth, passing the gate, which for some reason has been left open, one of the Viceroy's carriages sitting under the raised portcullis.


"Should we move it so we can drop the portcullis?" you ask.


"And piss off Count Grey and whoever owns this carriage? No fucking chance," Lucas says.


As you leave and wander off into the trees. Soon, the only sound is the crunching of leaves under foot and your breathing.


"Control your breathing. Deep breaths. Watch your foot placement as well as the path in front of you. Avoid twigs and try leaves. We're trying to hunt, best be quiet about it," Lucas says. "The man's most definitely untrustworthy and cruel, but he knows how to hunt.


You take his advise, holding the lantern out to illuminate the path ahead. You see a shape move to your right, and stop, immediately twisting to aim.


"Contract, left side!" you whisper.


"Just a deer, stay focused!" Lucas whispers. "This is a fucking hunting trail, of course there's deer around!"


You keep moving, you gun raised in your one hand, propped in the crook of your shoulder to allow you to aim. 


The beam of your light comes across a deer lying on the ground. It's belly has been ripped to shreds, entrails covering the earth around it and soaking it with bodily fluids. It's head, connected to its body by a few strands of sinew and muscle, lies in the grass at the edge of the path, two lifeless eyes staring towards the stars. 


"It's fresh, look out!" Lucas growls, as you immediately turn. You see a form rush through the undergrowth, aiming at it, but it's gone before your finger can even tighten on the trigger. 


A growling comes from the trees to your left, and you swing your rifle over to aim at the beast. They're faster than usual. They're not supposed to be this fast. It must be that fucking moon!


A howl comes from your right, and you drop your lantern to aim, catching a glance of blood-matted fur and a flash of white teeth. The beasts don't seem to bee going for the attack, rather endlessly circling, toying with you. None of you have even had the chance to fire a shot.


Suddenly you see one of them, basked in the red glow of the moon, dead in the center of the path. This one stands directly there, hunched over and staring at you, clearly not scared in the slightest. It's abnormally large, not even wearing the tattered remains of clothes, covered in patches of fur. it's head is malformed, it's jaws filled with teeth that barely fit in its mouth, crushed into somewhat of a snout. It's hungry eyes stare at you, as it lets out a low growl.

You fire

You pull the trigger, as the silver bullet flies through the air. Through the grace of God, or whoever else, the bullet slams into the werewolf's head, smashing into his skull and sending bits of bone, chunks of grey matter and clumps of flesh and fur in various directions. The wolf's massive body stumbles forward, before collapsing to the ground with a thud. You hear a howl, which is immediately answered by dozens of other howls. There must be all the beasts here, stalking you through the forest, all of their power amplified by the power of the blood moon tenfold. Lucas and Mikhail also seem to notice it, immediately letting out a shout.


"Run!" Mikhail shouts.


You fling your lantern off to the side, setting a pile of dry leaves alight. A fire lights, as the fire quickly engulfs the leaves and grass, dry from lack of rainfall. The fire flares up, distracting the wolves for a split second. You sprint forward, desperately running through the undergrowth and bushes. You jump over a tree root, grabbing Mikhail and pulling him forward as he stumbles. You hear the roars of the werewolves close behind you.


You see one sprinting to your side on all fours, it's claws and hind-legs sending it hurtling forward, galloping to your side. It stares at you, howling skyward, as you keep running. You raise the gun, firing off to the side as the werewolf leaps out of the way of the bullet.


You hear wet, heavy panting, less than a foot behind you. The castle is close. barely a few hundred feet away. If you get to it, you might be able to get inside and bar the door, or drop the portcullis and keep the werewolves away. Still, you can see the golden hum of torches at the edge of your peripheral, showing the village closest to the house.

You sprint to the castle

You keep sprinting forward, as Mikhail yells in pain off to your side a few seconds later. You hear him smack into the ground, and his terrified screams fill the air. You keep running, before you feel your back breaking as the werewolf's claw smashed into your hack, the knife-like claws cutting through your leather duster and slashing through your flesh. You roll to the ground with a scream, as the werewolf leaps onto you, it's weight crushing you. It's wet saliva dripping onto your face, it howls at the moon in an act of triumph, before it lunges forward, biting deep into your throat.