"Uh... the... the fi..." you stutter, tripping over your words as the vampire growls.


"Have I found myself with another fool, a boy with the mind of a mule?" the vampire says, his long, gleaning white fangs, the corners of his mouth still red with your blood. "I've had a year out of you. Perhaps it's best to finish you off now."


Count Grey slowly walks forward, snarling as his fangs poke out, looking like huge spears.

You stand your ground

You stand your ground, as the vampire grabs you by the throat, lifting you into the air. His grip is tight, strangling you as he snarls, looking you at you with his cold, dark eyes.


"I'm going to feel nothing as you die," he says.


Your brain begins to scream from lack of oxygen, as his eyes stare into yours. Your vision gets blurry, as your head begins to pulse with a desire to simply close your eyes and pass out. Suddenly, he releases you from his grip, as he drops you to the ground.


"Perhaps… perhaps you're ready to truly serve. Your life is mine, Samuel. If I decide to break your neck, you'll lay your head down on the table and have your neck broken, understood?"


"Ye... yes, sir. Whatever you desire," you manage to spit out.


"Good. The rich one, was it?" the vampire says, smiling. "Follow me."


You quickly begin following, walking along the stone road. You stop at one of the larger brick houses, with a fancy looking brass knocker. Count Grey briefly knocked on the wooden door, waiting. There was a loud noise inside, as the owner scrambled to get ready. The door opened on a chain, with an elderly bespectacled man peering out.


"May I... oh, my..." the man said, stepping back. 


Count Grey grabbed him by the throat, tearing the door open as the chain snapped. Count Grey raised the man into the air, tossing him aside.


"Follow," Count Grey shouted, as the old man struggled to stand, grabbing a letter opener.


"Stay back!" he said. "You stay away from..."


Count Grey let out a snarl, as he bared his teeth, his eyes filling his hunger. The old man meekly dropped the letter opener, stepping back. Count Grey walked forward into the house, sniffing the air. With a quick kick, he smashed the door open. You stood behind him, watching as a young girl barely into her teens lies, wearing a night gown. From the wet path on both the gown and the sheets she's curdled up in, it appears she's peed herself. 


"Ah... so fresh... so young... so delicious," Count Grey says.


The girl screams for her grandfather, but Count Grey simply grabs her by the hair, in a quick jerk ripping her from the bed. Count Grey walked along the hallway, dragging her towards the coach. You follow, passing the disgraced looking grandfather.


"Grandpapa! Grandpapa!" the girl screamed, as her father just looked down, ashamed.


Count Grey dragged her into the coach, throwing her into the back, before locking it. He motioned for you to follow.


"It's a beautiful night. The moon's full in the sky. I need to... negotiate with a few of the beasts of the night. I shan't be long. When to the West the honorless dogs create endless machines of war and to the East our enemies have endless' souls to give, we could always use more allies, yes?"


You nod slowly, as the Vampire slides his coat off his gaunt frame, holding it out. You stare at it, before realizing he wants you to take it and grabbing it.


"Take the girl back to the castle. Detain her. Then, await my return."


"Yes, sir," you respond, as your master turns away, strolling off into the night.

You head back to the castle

You walk towards the shotgun seat, climbing up to sit next to Haygarth.


"The girl is alive and in my coach, yet the master is not. What happened?" he asks.


"Count Grey is hunting. You need to take me and the girl home."


"What's to become of the girl? Is she a blood bag, or a new apprentice?" Haygarth asks, raising an eye. "Neither would be particularly surprising."


"I don't know," you admit.


"So be it," Haygarth replies.


You put your head against the back of the coach, and close your eyes as you head towards the castle.

You an Hour Later...

The coach enters the castle gate, as you climb off the coach. Haygarth lowers the portcullis, as you go to the back to open the coach. The girl sits there, staring at you in terror.


"Get out," you command.


The girl nods, crawling ahead as she gets out of the coach. You grab her by the wrist, leading her along to the coach. She doesn't talk, seemingly in shock. She doesn't say a word, instead staring at you in terror. You wonder if you should try to converse, to calm her, or keep unemotional and professional about this issue.

You talk to the rich girl

"So, do you have a name?" you say.


"Yelena," she says, struggling to even talk.


"My name's Samuel."


You walk on for another few seconds of silence, as she looks at you, her face pale.


"Am I going to die?" she asks.


"You..." you begin to say, before she stares at you, trying to see if you're lying. "I don't know. I'm sorry."


She nods.


You show her down the stairs, before leading her into a prison cell. You lock the cell door, staring at her from behind the bars. She stares blankly ahead, leaning against the wall and sliding down to lean against it, her nightgown now covered in mud and dirt.


You leave her there, now secured, and end up heading to bed for a few hours sleep before Count Grey arrives back.

You sleep...

You awake to the prick of fangs against your neck. You don't move, taking in a deep breath.


"You looked so... so appetizing. Let's go. We need to finish the last stage of your path towards becoming a true apprentice."


You nod, standing. You make your way down to the prison cell, where the girl still waits. She looks up, terrified.


"What... what is to be done with her?" you gulp.


"She is food. Learn that fact," your master says. 


The vampire draws a long dagger from his side, handing it to you.


"If you're going to be my Ghoul, you need to prove you're capable of preparing my food. Kill her,"


You hold the knife, staring at it as the girl begins to cry. You notice from the wet patch growing on her nightgown, she's pissed herself once more.


"Kill her. She's weak, you're strong. Slice open her throat, so I can feed," Count Grey commanded.


The girl breaks into sobs as Count Grey opens the cell door, swinging it ajar and motioning for you to enter. You nod, walking forward with the knife held tightly in your hand.

You kill her

You step forward, into the cell. You close your eyes, moving forward as you grab the girls' head. You hold the knife to her throat as she struggles desperately, her fingernails scratching at your face. You stab her through the throat, directly through the main vein. She collapses, shuddering as blood spurts out and begins to run down her neck, staining her hair crimson. You feel like bursting into tears, but you know to show weakness would be to end up like her… if you were lucky.


"Good," Count Grey says, tossing a rag forward. "Hold it against her neck to stem the bleeding, and then pick her up and follow me."


You grab the girl, holding the rag tightly against the wound to stem the bleeding. You lift her over your shoulder, standing up. You follow Count Grey along the hall. Soon, you find yourself in front of a large, wooden door. Haygarth has forbidden you from entering, which only mean that you had one less room to clean. Count Grey pulls a short, silver key from his pocket. He opens the door, revealing a massive storage room. The room is filled with cabinets and shelving units. They're all filled with crystal bottles, filled with a scarlet red ichor.


"This castle was built to withstand a siege. It's storerooms could keep a force here going for years with wheat, potatoes, salted meats and more, as well as small gardens. Unfortunately, I require a more… delicate solution to avoid starving."


You look at the endless bottles of blood, wondering how many lives were given to fill them.


"It's quite hard to successfully bottle blood. Let alone hard hard it is to get it from the victim without a needle and a few hours. You'll need to get quite good at that."


"You want me to kill people and bottle their blood?" you ask.


"Yes. Not just anyone. Virgins, particularly. Once they've lost that, their blood's impure, and will spoil quickly enough outside the body. After that, you'll need to keep it around for a few days, make sure it doesn't spoil."


"I thought you said virgin blood doesn't spoil."


"It doesn't, but in this day and age, it's so hard to tell. I always struggle to pick out my targets. I want them to be young enough to be a virgin, but still old enough to… well, perhaps from the morality my tribe taught me oh so many years ago, I don't want to kill babies, or children that young. I'm perfectly willing to, mind you, but I don't find it necessary when there are so many other potential blood bags. Even then, you can never be sure. You always have some human filth so enamored with mortal concepts like sex that they end up defiling children. You'd be surprised by how young I've found my victims to be, yet still spoiled. Oh, they say power corrupts, but it just lets people be who they are naturally. Perhaps some day, we'll see who you are at heart."


"Does… does it have to be children?" you ask. "What about someone like… the Catholic priests in the village?"


"Ha! I'd be able to find more virgins among the girls at the whore house then at the church!" Count Grey says, laughing. His laughter is… unnatrual. Even though you understand the context to the joke, you still somehow feel as if he's laughing maniacally since he's got you at his mercy, which you suppose he does.


You weakly smile, before the weight of the dead girl over your shoulders becomes too much and you lower her onto the cold stone floor, keeping the now red, sticky rag pressed against her wound.


"Ah, yes. We're wasting time," he says.


Count Grey grabs a crystal bottle, handing to you.


"Move the rag, and replace it with bottle. Fill it," he says.


You take the bottle and remove the rag, quickly pressing the bottle against the bleeding wound, as blood continues to flow into it. You take effort not to look at the girl's face, watching as the bottle is slowly filled.


"The heart is a tremendous organ, isn't it?" Count Grey says, licking his lips. "So… fresh. So… delicious."


The vampire snarls, taking a deep breath. For a second, his face contorts into a combination of that of a starving man willing to break any moral code to feed his hunger, that of a hate-filled demon knowing nothing other than the negative emotions that plague the depths of man's soul, as well as that of a beast, knowing only hunger. You step back, almost knocking over a rack of bottles, before Count Grey pauses.


"Don't worry, little one. It's just that staring at the blood makes me so, so thirsty. I'd imagine you'll be able to fill up a lot more bottles than I, seeing as you won't be tempted to down the bottle you're filling at any given moment."


Count Grey takes the bottle, pouring a small amount into an ornate wooden bowl, before capping the bottle with a crystal stopper.


"No, we test. You get this little box," he said, grabbing an oak box from the cabinet, and opening it to reveal various things.


Count Grey draws out a long tooth, seemingly from a vampire. It looks to be a curved, deadly sharp fang.


"This belonged to Elise the Skin-Taker. You need to drop the fang in the bowl, and leave it there for three days. If the tooth is no different, put the tooth back in the box and put the bottle with the others. If the tooth has turned black, dump out the blood and wash out the bottle. Then, use a blade to scrape of the rotten outside, and put the rest, the tooth that's not rotten, back in the box. Be careful. A tooth can only last two or three of these, and I only have so many. Getting more takes another trip to the wilder regions and find a maddened, bestial vampire without reason or logic, a bandit who has found himself with the gifts of the blood moon or some aspiring Vampire who wishes to be a count."


Count Grey puts the bottle on the stone table, next to the bowl.


"You've prepared your first bottle, little one. You'll prepare many more. You've proven yourself tonight. Now, your job changes. Follow me," he says.


Count Grey walks along the hallways, stopping at a small, wooden door that again has remained locked during your stay here. He opens it with the same key, before handing it to you.


"Here. This is your new room," he says, opening the door.


In stark contrast with your last room, a simple tiny bed in a barren room, this one is surprisingly less furnished. A desk and chair stands there, a mirror, a wardrobe and a large bed. A gun rack sits by the single window, with two rifles and a shotgun in it.


"Thank you, thank you master!" you say.


"Open the wardrobe," Count Grey commands.


You walk forward, opening the wardrobe. Inside is a pair of black leather boots, black trousers, a black shirt, a dark red leather long coat and belt and a dark red tri-corner hat.


"Put it on," Count Grey commands. 


You quickly get undressed, as Count Grey stares, bored, at the wall. You get dressed into the outfit, turning to look back at your master.


"Yes... it fits well. Kneel, dog," the vampire says.


You drop to your knee, bowing your head low. You look up at Count Grey, who raises his arm to his mouth. He bites it, releasing a flow of blood that runs down his hands. He holds it out, staring at you expectantly.


"Drink," he commands.


You look at the burgundy liquid running down the vampire's arm, in stark contrast with the white, ghastly skin. You put your mouth to the wound, and begin to suck.


The liquid is like a poison. Your skin begins to tingle, as you feel drowsy. You try to pull your head away, but the vampire holds it in place.


"Drink!" he commands aggressively.


You keep drinking the cold liquid down, as your stomach begins to churn. You feel like you're about to collapse into a coma, as the blood seems to drain your life source. Finally, Count Grey lets you pull your head back.


"Rise, ghoul," he commands.


You stand, trying not to puke. You look at Count Grey, who raises an eyebrow.


"Are you going to vomit, child?" he asks.


You feel the puke rise up in your throat, but hold it down, shaking your head.


"Well done," he says. "Now, you're a ghoul. No longer will you work like a slave with Haygarth. You will hunt for me when I am busy. You will scout and pick out potential prey. You will guard the castle. You will be a true minion."


You nod, eagerly. 


"I... am yours, master," you say.

Three Years Later...

You sit in the shotgun seat of a carriage with Haygarth at the reins. It's been a long journey. You have to venture to meet with King Ferdinand I in order to arrange taxation laws and other things you haven't been educated well enough to understand. You're finally entering the territory under Count Grey's control, staring out at the village you're entering as the sun falls in the distance.


"Stop here," you say. "I want to grab a bite to eat."


"We must be home soon!" Haygarth says. "Count Grey's in the back, he might wake up soon. Sun's almost gone."


You're hungry, thirsty and you've been traveling for the past three days. There's no way in hell you're going back to the castle for Haygarth to cook up his famous soup, which you're certain he's literally shitting in.

You attempt to convince Haygarth to stop

"Haygarth, be fair here. Do you really want to go back to the castle to have to cook for us? We could quickly get some grub, some drinks, and then head back to the castle. Right?"


"Don't like leaving carriage. There's always pointing, laughing, staring," Haygarth says, pulling his balaclava up to the bridge of his nose. "Fine. I'll pull in. You go eat. I'll wait here, eat something when I get home," he says.


The carriage pulls in alongside a tavern, as you look to Haygarth, who looks fairly pathetic as he attempts to cover his mishapen form.

You enter the tavern

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 buy time

"Do you know how dangerous the count is? He'll drink you dry, his fangs'll prick..."


"Shut it!" the skinny one says.


"Let's just go," the big one says.


"First, the wallet!" the skinny one says.


"I think I can hear Count Grey. He's co..." you say, before you're interrupted by the skinny one pulling the trigger, covering the wall with your brain matter.