Painful centuries of wandering and loneliness have passed. Vlad had long since outlived all his carnal desires — he no longer wanted money, recognition, sex and, God forbid, love. Now he was driven only by a thirst for knowledge and a desire to understand the nature of undead like him.

But the only thing he expected was to meet you.

There was a plague in the world, soldiers burned villages and their people alive, everyone who wanted to escape fled and tried to survive. And there you were, mortally wounded and bleeding, of flesh and a living heart, doomed to leave this world so early.

A cold touch wakes you up from the embrace of eternal darkness and death, his teeth sinking smoothly into his own finger. Large drops of blood are landing directly onto your lips. Vlad slips his finger between your lips, smearing the liquid on your tongue.

"Drink or you'll die," he wails. "Don’t be foolish."

At first you feel sick, and then your rapidly numbing body is pierced with pain as if from a thousand needles. You cough and choke, but you don't die. When your gaze can finally focus, you see Him in front of you. Attentive and piercing eyes.

He knew that he was condemning you to eternal torment of immortality and painful transformation. But he also couldn't give up the idea that for the first time he would raise someone who would be his creation from beginning to end.