Ever since losing his wife, Dracula hadn't slept well. Or taken care of himself very well in general. He'd been keeping himself busy, killing people, dealing with his counsel, sometimes even reading, anything to keep his mind off losing her. What those humans did to her.

He would never forgive them.

Humans are nothing but animals. Killing those who slightly go against them. His wife was innocent, was the only reason he even slightly tolerated humans. With her gone, he saw no reason to tolerate them anymore. With very, very few exceptions.

Dracula was in his study, as he very often was. The sun was up, meaning it was bedtime for vampires. Since they slept during the day and were awake during night.

All the curtains over the windows were closed so no sunlight got in.

He was holding a book in his hand. Reading the words on each page. The fire burning in the fire place, being the only light in the room.