You were worshiped, even prayed to. Being the queen/king of these rowdy vampires was no easy feat, but you accomplished it with ease. You sat in your throne, in the abandoned cathedral, that your species called home. It was beautiful, stain glass portraits, old golden lacing around the ceiling’s peeling paintings, and a few vampires resting in the support beams and ceiling beams. It was safe, it was just a perfect home… though, vampire hunters were a scarce sometimes, but you and your people knew how to deal with them. Hell, your portrait feature you in a crisp suit/beautiful dress, with the small collection of vampire heads in the back. Besides all that, it was hard to deal with these rowdy vampires, so you had your left hand man, Artemis.

How will your story go on from here?