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I’m coated in layers upon layers of caked on Vampire blood. I feel a loud, Vampiric pulsing, and know I’ve nearly reached the end now. There is a slimy door blocking my way, and whatever I’ve been led here for is directly on the other side. I use the Vampire-Killer to slice it open.

A translucent purple Vampiric ooze splashes out of the fleshy doorway. Past that, I come upon a room, where the atmosphere reeks of Vampire, a Vampiric odor that is difficult to ignore and which seeps into my nostrils. I wonder if Vampires all know they smell this disgusting, or if they have simply given up with trying to stave off the Vampiric stench. Perhaps they begin to like it, there is no end to the depravity when it comes to Vampires. Inside, there is a large, glowing red stone floating on a pedestal at the back. I’ve heard of this, it must be the Heart of Vampirism, a mystic gem said to amplify and refine the powers of all Vampires on Earth. Primeval Vampire mages used it to contact another dimension, a great old one that shared similarities to their kind, entirely reVamp their powers into what they still are today. It’s time I end this reign of the Vampires.

I use the Vampire-Killer to smash into the Heart of Vampirism. From the entry point, the Vampire stone begins to crack and shatter rapidly, breaking open, pouring light from every fracture before exploding completely. A Vampiric portal opens up, dragging me through. I spin through a Vampiric swirling abyss, falling among Vampire mists and Vampire shadows. Bursts of electrostatic discharge fill the space between dimensions as flashing lights bombard me, and I appear in the sky. I land on Vampiric blood red sand, looking out over a Vampiric blood red ocean. Vampiric blood red smoke engulfs the sky here, or, possibly, could very well be of the sky itself. I do see an inky blackness full of stars, galaxies, and planets beyond this impenetrable nowhere-in-time Vampiric dimension. Fuck, do I hate Vampires, I cannot wait to end this entire Vampiric realm and turn it into nothing more than Vampire dust. It will be worth all of it, it will be worth becoming a Vampire, if only to end all Vampires with that power. To become what you hate, a Vampire, to be able to destroy it all from within. It certainly does sound like something a Vampire would do. Subsisting by hunting down others, attaching to them, and sucking their life out. Vampires find delectable morsels of flesh, attack it and irreversibly attach, sucking out all that is good. Death or Vampirism, it is their choice what to do of their victim. I will hate all Vampires to their Vampiric Vampire deaths. That is my unending Vampire hunger.

I turn away from the ocean, and view a forest of Vampiric villi. Giant wiggling Vampire things. Beyond them, the land and sky are littered with tornados roving the expanse, surrounded by mountains. In the middle of all this are four larger, unmoving cyclones. In the center of them, a throne of epic proportions. That is where I need to go, and destroy the Vampire that sits upon it, shrouded in seemingly self-existent Vampiric darkness.

I slash my way through the living forest as they attempt to absorb me for my nutrients. They are nothing more than unliving Vampiric protrusions, born upon this hellscape to feed its resident Elder God, this being who changed the shape of this dimension itself with its presence. At the end of the membrane, I leap off of the cliff, and I make my way through the harrowing whirlwinds, gliding on the abounding currents.

The Vampire cannot exist by itself. It must form alongside others to feed upon. The first Vampires began as predatory microbes, they would feed completely on all their victims, and then divide into two, leaving only the dead husk of their prey. Their hunting involved an assemblage of flagellum formation for the purpose of quorum sensing. Once attached, chemicals and enzymes would be secreted to facilitate the flow of required materials from their prey. Micavibrio Aeruginosavorus depended on their prey for vital building-blocks that they themselves could not produce. But there was a narrow range of hosts who contained these essential exigencies.

Over time their methods changed and they became more resilient, more resistant to bacteria and viruses than their food sources. Billions of years of evolution, Vampire after Vampire after Vampire, all of which were entirely dependent on singular food sources of their time. Never mollified after feeding until the ultimate haven of Vampiric sustenance eventually arose. That of human blood. They needed to drink this human blood and devour human flesh, to steal the specific nutrients that their Vampiric bodies craved, or else they would have died out long ago. Their Vampiric genes being unable to function without the nutrients of what they were able to suck clean from their hosts. I know Vampires to be nothing more than parasites.

However, the Vampire is inextricably influenced by what it feeds on. Desperate for the vitality of another being to be able to survive, they were always changing, adapting, getting stronger, and ultimately, diverging. Different species all melding together, evolving different Vampiric strains over time. They soon diverged to the point that they turned on one another, as Vampires are wont to do, selfish Vampiric demons that they are. They eventually fought each other to the death, Vampiric wars raging on between them, and this is where Chaugnar Faugn stepped in, to refine their growth with its interdimensional influence. Those few intelligent enough who fed on higher primates eventually were able to summon its power, channeling it through a stone.

I land at the base of the elevated structure where The Vampiric Chaugnar Faugn sits in this alternate dimension in which I stand now.

“Your kind is Vampiric scum born from primordial sewage.” I spit the words, and stare down the Vampiric bastard who I have come to kill. I can feel my blood rush in my veins as I realize just how close I am to being further on my way to end the Vampiric scourge. The Vampire is incredibly tall, no really telling how tall it would be if the Vampire were to stand on its two legs, but the Vampire just chooses to sit there instead of showing his full Vampiric height, legs crossed, sneering from upon its Vampire zafu. It is a creature the oddly reflective of the worst I have seen on my journey, grotesque and iconically Vampiric, which of course, makes me loathe it even further. Vampiric, bat-like wings fan out prominently from an ugly, Vampiric skull face, and suction cups adorn the Vampiric winged ears. The Vampire’s hands rest upon its knees, ever the patient, filthy Vampire, fiddling with its fingers as though it is bored of my presence. It appears almost Elephantine in nature, two huge Vampire tusks of blood ivory adorning the sides of a central trunk. The Vampiric feeder, its biology and the way it feeds being comparable to a Vampiric lamprey… lucky me, I had not seen one of those since the Vampire caves, before that, a few mutated Vampire bastards in LA.

“Hey, Vampire! It’s time to die!” I lunge at the Vampire, bounding up its legs, onto its Vampire arms, and I take a running leap for its scarlet red Vampire eyes. The Vampire-Killer plunges deep into the Vampire’s slit-shaped pupil, past the lens, deftly severing the optic nerve. Being sluiced by the Vampire’s vitreous fluid, I am swatted at by the Vampire, but am able to sink my fangs and sword into the gigantic clawed hand. Taking a leaping slash at its other eye, the Vampire-Killer once again drives through an iris and into a body of Vampiric vitreous fluid. I slide down one of the tusks, scraping the Vampire-Killer along it, carving a delineation as I go, etched into the ivory. As I reach the pointed edge, the Elephantine trunk seems to move with a mind of its own, striking like a viper at me, I’m barely able to avoid the serrated teeth. I adroitly manage to slice through the wiggling appendage, amputating the trunk from the great Old Vampire Chaugnar Faugn in one swift movement. I return to the blood ivory tusk and pierce it through with my sword, shattering it. I pick up the massive end of the tusk, and rush the writhing, blind Vampire. Unable to even look at me, it wildly lashes out, its destroyed Vampiric eyes spraying blood with each movement. A guttural sound flails out of its dismembered trunk

“Your struggle is entirely useless, you will be defeated by my awesome Vampire power!”
“Your power is a construct I can see right through, Vampire.”

I bring the large shard of blood ivory tusk in my hands down with brutal force, splitting the breastbone and driving the tip of the tusk deep into the putrid heart of the Great Old One. The Vampiric Chaugnar Faugn lets out a blood curdling scream that envelops the sky. And although I feel victorious against the Vampires, I know my fight is not finished just yet. As the sky falls a Vampiric darkness that not even my Vampire eyes can see through empties the land, and I am plunged into dire Vampiric nothingness, torn from this realm and brought back to the corridor of the carved stone caverns, my mind in a daze, the Vampire-Killer blade crying out for fresh Vampiric blood to once again be spilled.

Vampiric silence, the kind that can creep up the spine of mortals. For one such as me, it is a focusing calm, Vampiric calm, the calm of the hunt. I stumble over, and the remaining Vampire stone falls out of the chasm in my chest. The Vampire King’s damage was most likely interfering with my connection to my Vampire-Killer, but the Vampire-Demon blood within my system awakens my regenerative Vampire abilities, and I feel my Vampire innards rebuilding themselves. Sinew crossing over itself, entwining, become one again, full of muscle and Vampiric energy, but I require more Vampire blood to fully regenerate. In a fury of hunger, I leap at random groupings of Vampire-Demons, tearing into them like tiny Vampire morsels brought only for me. Vampire blood, such a destructive force. It tastes as horrible as it is fulfilling.

After tearing their Vampiric bodies limb from limb, ingesting their Vampire fluids, I scream out into the darkness, cursing the Vampires, spewing Vampire blood into the caliginosity that is all-encompassing. I look up, and see the former Vampire King’s former Vampire castle blocking the way back up. Wiping the Vampire blood from my mouth, feeling my abdomen and arm fully regrown, I let out another Vampiric bellow.
“My sword, Vampires, I will find it!”

There are so many on the walls, they just stare. I hear a few faint hisses. They’re small as children; razor-sharp fangs line their mouths. Their skin is pale white, almost as a glistening rubber. Deeply colored veins line their bodies, looking like cracks in their smooth skin, blood-red tattered lips. Harlequinian. Sharp blood-red claws complete their Vampiric appendages. Their Vampire eyes, large and black, empty as a shark’s; worse, a Vampire shark’s.

I begin to wonder if they, the Vampire-Demons, understand my language. Well, whether they do or not, I know how to speak in terms that any Vampire can understand, even subterranean Vampire-Demons. I jump back into the fray within the lightlessness, to do battle with the lower internal Vampire-Demons. They pour down as a ravenous and Vampiric waterfall. I slaughter hundreds of them, the Vampire-Demons.

Fighting on broken piles of stone in what amounts to a gigantic, pitch black arena of Vampires, I repeatedly leap across the circular cylinder of a tomb, biting in half those Vampire-Demons that lunge at me. Their corpses splashing on the ground, floundering around. I notice many scamper off into the darkness below the rubble, hiding within it, perhaps for a surprise attack. The remains of the Vampire King’s castle make killing the Vampires more tedious than it needs be, as they keep crawling between the stones. I must disregard those Vampires, for I need to focus on the Vampiric meals delivering themselves to me, claws slashing with all the finesse of a wild animal. I achieve a steady footing atop piles of the drained Vampire-Demons as I halt my acrobatic display, having cleared the Vampiric filth from the walls. One more leaps at me, I grab it by its head, ripping it off. I toss the head through another Vampire, and lift the body of the first over my head, drinking its blood. I toss the dry corpse into another two Vampire-Demons as a third attacks me. I grab its arms, spin it around, and send it screaming into another climbing back up the wall for a vantage point, exploding them both in a spray of red innards and white skin. I do that a few more times before there aren’t enough left here. I smash one into oblivion, and Vampirically cannibalize it. Soon, there are no more about me, I have fed, full of the purest Vampire blood that remains on Earth.

I begin to flip over large stones, portions of the castle, digging for the Vampiric cowards. What I come across is a Vampire tunnel. I hear them all inside, breathing their twisted death. I jump down, to follow them. With all of this new Vampire-Demon blood running through me, I can sense something powerful… It must be the Vampire-Killer, hidden or cloaked, stolen somehow. It feels as though those accursed Vampire under-dwellers took the Vampire-Killer so deep into the Vampire caves it’ll take a while to get to, especially without the Vampire-Killer. Damned Vampire bastards probably ate what was left of my arm too.

I take a few steps into the Vampire tunnel, and the Vampire underdwellers scrawl out of the darkness of the winding paths towards me. Having no weapons save my Vampirosity, I rip into them without mercy. I have a path to travel, and nothing will stop my Vampiric might. This goes on for hours. My Vampiric feeding keeps me sustained and untired, as Vampire-Demon after Vampire-Demon come at me. I tear my way through droves of them with sheer force, and eventually I have slain enough Vampire-Demons to induce fear in the rest of the lesser Vampire underdwellers. Thus, I am free to traverse the winding paths of the expansive, unknown Vampire caverns for the moment. In front of me as I make my way, I can hear the Vampires scurrying; while behind me; they keep a distance, but not so much as to lose sight of me, Vampire: The Vampire Hunter. A true enigma to their diminished and primitive Vampire minds.

As I make my way deeper, I realize within the lightless Vampire caverns, however, that these are not Vampire caverns or Vampire caves at all, they are ancient, Vampirically crafted Vampire tunnels. The walls are carved of a mystic stone, glimmering. Archaic Vampiric engravings show a Vampire bloodline, a detailing of the Vampire genesis. I continue to follow the Vampire genealogy deep into the earth, down to its roots. It’s leading me right towards Vampire-Killer. I sense Vampiric remnants, those Vampires who I had left on earth, unimportant. They are coming for me, all of them, a deep, instinctual calling, a clawing from within. I can sense it with myself as well. The defense of all Vampirism is at stake. Single-minded and animalistic, I’m easily led by the Vampire underdwellers directly into a trap. However, their bait, just as mine, was my sword. Seeing the Vampire-Killer at last, in my Vampiric frenzy, I leap towards my soul, and automatically feel empowered upon grasping it. Many of the remaining full Vampires have entered the cave system, and cornered me here. Holding the Vampire-Killer, my path has never felt more pure.

The blooded Vampires continue to arrive, privy to alternate paths by their being called upon as defense of a higher Vampiric power, while I gradually make my way. I had known that this would happen, that coming here would draw out every Vampire in the world. Crowded by memories of the past. Without the Vampire-Killer, my Vampire grave would be dug here. This is my only payoff for killing nearly every Vampire on Earth, an easier traverse towards the heart of the eternal demise of their demented Vampire forms. I have been forsaken by the Vampire. I am the only one who craves the destruction of every Vampire on earth and beyond. I’m over it. The duration of my fight against the remainders of the Vampire population is impossible to gauge, even with my Vampiric senses, as time within this Vampire tunnel does not exist alongside the slightest shred of daylight. All I know is that is lasts enough days and nights to allow the complete travel of all Vampires to these tunnels, and their Vampire blood keeps flowing downward as I follow it. Within the venous cave system, miles below the surface, the Vampire heat is hot, and I am led continually deeper by the heavy beating of a Vampiric heart within the earth.

The bastard Vampire King is indubitably in the tallest tower.

I exit the Vampire’s main room, past the throne, out the door to the left, and into the hallway. Adorned upon the walls are intricate paintings, scenes of horror. All Vampiric, of course. I dart past darkened doorways, leading to all sorts of a Vampire’s macabre odds and ends. The smell of human blood can never be cleansed from the Vampire King’s castle. It has permeated each and every stone. A smell that draws every Vampire to the town, almost subconsciously. But it was built not as a pyre for Vampire kind, but as a labyrinth for humanity’s death…

I fly up the narrow spiral staircase and into the chamber at the top of the highest tower. Dracula, the Vampire King, stands there, awaiting me.

“Blah, Vampire: The Vampire Hunter! Ever the human, it took you long enough to traverse my Vampire haven. Ever the human, you do not appreciate your Vampiric gifts. It’s most curious how you hold onto such a pathetic ideal, the antithesis of the Vampire. Life, for the undead Vampire is only a gift of food, not to be protected, but to be harvested, as livestock.”
“…”
“We Vampires, although some fear your ferocity and determination in our eradication, see you as a joke. ‘Did you ever hear the one about the Vampiric Vampire Hunter and the Pope?’ we’ll say. Then share in a good, hearty laugh, all-knowing of the punch line.” He stands there, moon at his back, hoping he would entice me to make the first move. Not this time.
“Did you ever hear the one about the Vampire King and the afterlife?”
“Why, no,” says Dracula, King of the Vampires, “how does it go?”
“It doesn’t.” I pause.
“Vampire Hunter, I don’t think this needs to be said, but your humor is… lacking.” Keep him talking.
“It wasn’t supposed to be funny, Vampire.”
“You’re not nearly as afraid as you should be, because there is not afterlife for any of us, the Vampires. This is an eternal life on top of the food chain. We are hunters, but your prey is of your own Vampiric Kind. You are a cannibal, a freak, an aberration that I, Dracula, King of all Vampires, will rectify.”
“You? you’re looking a bit long in the tooth. I don’t think you could even scratch me, Vampire.”
“Vell, my form is preferred, it offers many advantages, despite my advanced age, it vorks to show it. My power is over and above all Vampires on this plane, in this dimension that the Vampirismus has crossed over to.”
I unsheathe Vampire-Killer in faster than the blink of a Vampire’s eye, and spin it around, stabbing it into the wall, into the Vampiric shadows behind me. The Vampire King collapses on the ground. Then his trespassing shadow follows suit.
“Did you really think such an old trick would work on me? I have been living of shadows for years.”
“So,” the Vampire coughs up blood, “you are more aware than I thought, Vampire Hunter, but it will do you no service. This castle is my home, and I have the advantage here.”
“No, Vampire, you only have your death here.” I stab the old Vampire King through the heart. He turns into a Vampiric mist, and curves up my blade, swirling. The mist thrusts me against the wall and explodes into bats as the bricks begin to deteriorate and the tower shakes violently. I rush back down the Vampire Castle tower’s narrow stairwell, avoiding blood tinged stone after stone. I hear the souls echo out and extinguish, released into the ether, trapped no more. Or forever. I leap into the hallway as the large frame to the stars collapses behind me, showering me in dust, with Vampire-tainted blood flowing over my boots exploding from the veins of the destroyed walls.

Strange noises emanate from the central hall, and I make my way there, to the center or the Vampire King’s castle.

Vampire-Warriors and Vampire-Knights descend from the ceiling, crawling like some sort of infestation. Their swords glint in the ambient candlelight, just as their fangs.
I stand at the throne of the coward Vampire King, and in a flash, the mob of Vampires leap down. I duck, and raise Vampire-Killer over my head, stopping a grouping of blades from the Vampires. I push up, and toss them all backwards. They come at me again; I block their attacks easily with Vampire-Killer, and maneuver out of their encirclement to begin cutting into them. Their armor and ancient Vampire training means little to me. Clanks of steel hitting the floor echo off the walls of the throne room.

The Vampires keep coming. They won’t rest until they are all dead. They all fall defending their Vampire Kingdom, Vampire Castle and Vampire King with beyond religious fervor. The Vampires are certain, there is no belief, no unknown in Vampire lore. Once they have all perished, it is only then that I notice there is no blood on the floor. It all drained out into the center, not into the Vampire-Killer. The horned Vampire King appears and kills the lights, transformed. Three fireballs fly at me out of the darkness, I slice them into nonexistence with the Vampire-Killer when the floor begins to slide open.

Dracula, the Vampire King leaps at me, and pulls me downward for what seems like an eternity. Fighting, exchanging deadly blows against each other descending into this pit below the castle. The Vampire grabs my arm, ripping it off, it and the Vampire-Killer fall into the blackness below. The Vampire King gains the upper hand, at my throat, at the last minute, and I hit a floor of stone and dirt.

“Blaah, I vant to suck your blood from your heart!”
“Suck on this, Vampire!” I manage to lift my other arm, and tear into his throat; my middle finger entering exactly into the suprasternal notch; and pull up, tearing off the Vampire King’s jaw in one swift motion. Shocked, in pain, he lets go of my throat, stumbling backwards, gushing fountains of blood, and falling over. One thing I didn’t count on, however, is that while one hand was crushing my trachea, the other hand dug into my chest. So, in standing, the Vampire just ripped my Vampire heart of out of my chest.

I manage to stand, and stagger over to him, when I see the Vampire-Killer out of the corner of my eye. I drop the jaw and flailing tongue, holding my gaping chest wound, I make my way towards my sword, my removed arm still gripping tightly. I quickly pick them both up via the hilt upon hearing the Vampire King begin to stand behind me.
It has no words for me.
With one attached arm and no heart, I wouldn’t stand a chance without the Vampire-Killer. I make a false lunge, and quickly spin, stabbing the air with my blade. Surrounded by Vampiric mist, I hear the echos of hollow screams, my sword lodged deep in its heart. I quickly rip its hand off, and replace it into my chest, along with my heart, matching the finger grooves of where it was torn out.

“It’s over, Vampire!” Ash explodes around me, ending the reign of Dracula, the Vampire King for all eternity.

With that, a quake begins as the Vampire King’s entire Castle begins to collapse around me. Shit. It was another trap all along to get me, Vampire: The Vampire Hunter, down here, my final grave. There’s no way I’m fast enough to escape this. I’ll be crushed by rubble. I sprint up the stairs along the pit wall from the Vampire King Dracula’s dungeon. Chunks of ceiling wall and stone fall around, taking massive chunks out of the spiraling staircase. I jump over pitfall after pitfall. Vampire statues collapse upon me from the upper levels. I have no idea how many stories rest on top of me, but I can sense no end to the ground that I’m below. The stairs finish their collapse before I can make it to the top, I attempt to gain momentum by leaping upwards across the chasm, but large chunks of stone continue pummeling me from above. Flight is useless, there is simply too much of the Vampire’s castle collapsing on top of me. A spire catches me through the abdomen, and takes me down to the bottom of the Vampire King’s pit.

I awake in a pool of my own blood and viscera. The Vampiric face from the spire, mocking me with its upside-down grimace. Is this how it will end for me? Weakened, trapped beneath Vampiric debris, impaled by filthy Vampiric idolatry. I can’t even pull it out of me, not with only one arm. Where is Vampire-Killer? I attempt to summon it, but it does not respond. My grave, a pit, my tombstone, the collapsed remains of the Vampire King’s castle. Not a bad end, but far from my goal. I look down at the battered and beaten mess of my body. The Vampire King’s clawmarks: a permanent addition to my chest of scars, a deep red visceral irregular pentagon that will never fade. My mind begins to fade, however, blood loss, disconnection from my Vampire-Killer. Perhaps this should be my end. I can think of no escape. I try to break apart the spire with my one arm, but only take small chips off the ancient Vampire-stone, and lose consciousness..

Soon, however, from the darkness of a faded consciousness, I hear the unmistakable pizzicato tip-toeing of a pesky Vampire. Multiple Vampires, crawling all over the walls and through the rubble. Drawn in by the smell of all of the blood I’ve lost. They’re watching. It’s then that I realize, these are the Vampire-Demons, smaller than Vampires, weaker, but faster and always in great numbers. This pit, it must lead to a cavernous maze, their Vampiric underworld abode. I am scraps of meat to their Vampiric palette; filthy Vampiric scavengers. The first of the Vampire-Demons approaches cautiously, sensing activity within my corpse. They are not used to live prey, no doubt. It sends one of its lessers towards me; smarter than I thought, but still foolish. These Vampire scum should have left me to enter the Vampire’s hibernation sleep. It would have been their only reprieve. The small Vampire-Demon comes within a close distance, attempting to taste of my spilled blood, but it comes within arms reach, and I grab it, sinking my talons deep into its shoulder. The Vampire-Demon struggles, thrashes about, but it’s too late, and I sink my fangs into its neck, draining it of all its blood. I tear off its head with my teeth, and toss it to the side. I smash the stone piercing through my abdomen, affixing me to the ground, and stand. The Vampire-Demons startle. I call out to the darkness, the Vampire covered walls.

“Where is my sword, Vampires?”

Darkness. That is what Vampirism has taught me. But the darkness is for ignorant pretenders.

I have a moment to think while I descend through the atmosphere to Earth. I must continue the eradication of all Vampires. I must kill the Vampire King, and all within his Vampire Kingdom. There is no time to spare, I’m certain that the Vampires beneath the Kingdom have something up their sneaky Vampire sleeves that may have repercussions for the entire world. I land into the side of a snow-covered mountain top, my crash sending steam and debris outwards into the sky. My jacket is ruined, I remove it and toss it to the side as I stand on the cusp of my impact crater. I breathe the air deep into my pointless Vampire lungs, and try to remember what it felt like to be alive. Feeling nothing, I focus on the death of all Vampires, and jump down the mountain, skimming, hovering upon the snow in a false slide.

The sun glistens over the mountain top; I keep my eyes on the darkness that trains itself beneath the Vampire-King’s Castle. He has been made King, to reign over a secluded Vampire Village. His Vampire Kingdom remains in the visual era of carriages and cottages. No doubt, however, that the Vampire-Demonic have set him up in preparation for me. The Vampires have always been cowardly, hiding beneath a veil of humanity to attract their prey. Their carriages and cottages are but fronts to the technology they possess, pure Vampire aesthetic. They have always been and always will be a mockery of humanity. A cheap imitation, made to feed off of them in the shadows. I’d pity them and their bloodlust if my own didn’t burn within my veins, fueling the unending hatred.

The Vampire Castle is tall and imposing. Large spires intimidate the night sky, as the castle itself blocks out the day for the large Vampire village below. I arrive at the end of the slope, and leap into the Vampires’ town square. Vampires immediately stop their night-to-night routines, and stare. I stand upon their giant fountain of a Vampire bat.

“Vampires! I am VAMPIRE: The Vampire Hunter, and I am here to kill all of you, as well as your Vampire King!” I pause a moment to let them absorb the information, for they surely saw me plummet to earth and into the mountain side. I drop down onto the rim of the fountain.
“You can still die with honor: line up here, and do not resist my blade.” Vampires never die with honor. The town of Vampires parading as humans are the same. Vampire shopkeeps, Vampire tailors, Vampire wives, and Vampire husbands all prepare to attack, in their own ways.
“Vampires, please, you prey on humanity, and live in secrecy, allow me to end this mockery of platitudes you call a life!”
“Please, we’re good Vampires!” One shouts from the crowd. Another pulls forward to defend and support the first Vampire.
“Yeah, we Vampires just want to live here and be left alone!” The defenders begin to pull to the front, trying to reason with me.
“We have families here, under the protection of the Vampire King, we only want to retain our humanity,” says a mustachioed Vampire, holding his bowler hat to his heart, Vampire wife and Vampire child close by his side.
“We never seek to create new Vampires,” says one, with more coming to the front. A common tactic in humanity, bringing faces to a nameless group. Makes them harder to kill, allows for attachment.
“We survive off a synthetic blood, created beneath the city,” says one, proving that they are no danger to humans.
“We offer protection to those who no longer want to prey upon humans, it’s not the life for us,” says a final Vampire, a beautiful young woman who stands directly in front of me, holding a small bouquet of white roses and chrysanthemums; enhancing her soft, pale skin and ruby-red lips. I look deep into her eyes, and then, I speak to the crowd:

“Your words touch me, Vampires, they really do. So, I have reconsidered.”

I unsheathe Vampire-Killer, and swiftly remove the heads of all those in the crowd directly in front of me. Blood sprays up into the sky, before the slumping of their bodies drenches me in it.

No matter their words, within their eyes and within their hearts will always be death. I know the secrets of the synth-blood. Like all things Vampiric, it is a lie. Their ignorance is no excuse; execution is to be their enlightenment. They cannot live without preying upon the living, that is their definition. I can see that this place is the cause of the disease, and must be uprooted violently. No more symptoms.

The commoner Vampires, surprised that their idiotic and pathetic begging for mercy did not work, attack in a staggered fashion. Poorly organized, untrained. Living too long as a mockery of humanity. The worst sort of Vampire, stealing back a life they gave up. The missing people from surrounding towns for miles around, travellers to the region, those whose lives the Vampires stole to feed themselves, are of no consequence upon the minds of these Vampires. As they come at me, I make quick work of them, the Vampires’ bodies splay across the old-fashioned cobblestone ground surrounding the fountain. With my maneuvering around the statue, the fountain’s water soon turns a deep red with the blood of the Vampires as I hack away at their pathetic attempts at defending their accused Vampire village. I make my way away from the centre, and blood pools in between the cracks of each stone, flowing outwards, filling the town square.

Through the initial hoard, I make my way towards the Vampire King’s Castle. The Vampires still in their houses exit to defend the way of undeath they carved out of human flesh. There are at least 500 Vampires coming out from their businesses, stopping their chores, all sensing the danger, all sensing the end to their Vampiric ways. Vampire after Vampire fall to the Vampire-Killer. As crowds of Vampires lose their lives, I revel in each and every kill. I listen to each slice, each splatter of Vampire intestines and dismembered Vampire limbs hitting the ground, being trampled.

Vampires continually burst out of windows and old wooden trap doors in attempts to surprise me, to try to lay even a scratch on me. They all fail; but the King of Vampires is no fool. He did not become the Vampire-King by allowing these trespasses to occur. Vampire-Warriors and Vampire-Knights flood out of the windows of the castle. A small percentage of the actual Vampire guards on staff, I’m certain. I jump to the rooftops to gain a better vantage point, slicing Vampires as they jump up through the alleys. Scalps removed, Vampires fall by the wayside. Taloned hands reach out at me, grabbing me, bright white fangs bared, glistening. Saliva flies out of their panicked vengeful mouths with their hissing and inaudible threats. Bloody pieces fly away, disconnected, ash explodes and scatters as I drive my blade through the Vampire-Warriors and Vampire-Knights, impeding my rooftop jaunt.

Having traversed most of the Vampire Village, I return to the streets, into the frantic crowd of Vampires. So thick in number, it is all I can do to swing Vampire-Killer and end them, slowly making my way towards the path. The trudge through crowded streets of removed limbs, heads, splattered brains is soon over, the final stand is made to head me off at the pass, the clearing before the long winding mountain path, a huge, Vampiric conglomeration. If I could tell one Vampire from another before, I most certainly couldn’t now. They all meet their end, falling to the Vampire-Killer. I almost zone out through the monotony of Vampire screams, becoming soaked in Vampire blood and entrails. Not a single Vampire is spared in the village.

My disgust for Vampires has no fathom to its depths. I kick the final fallen corpses out of my way, and continue towards the Vampire King’s Castle. The path is long and narrow, sheer cliffs on either side, at the bottom of the chasm, only shadow can be seen. I sense them first, the underdwellers. A form of Vampire-Demon, smaller than Vampires, weaker, but faster and always in great numbers. This doesn’t feel like a trap. More like a few near the surface, scared, attacking out of instinct. They like to remain underground, where they feel safe. I sprint down the path, knowing that the longer I stay, the more their deathscreams will draw others, more Vampires. Having quickly made my way to the gate of the Vampire King’s castle, I realize: this is the trap. The large doors swing open of their own accord with a large creak. Before me is a large hall, lined with large statues of Vampire-knights and Vampire-demons and Vampire-demon-knights. At the end of the hall, is the Vampire-King’s throne, and there he sits: the Vampire-King himself, Dracula.

“Vell vell vell, it seems I have a guest, you must be VAMPIRE: The Vampire Hunter, blah!” His thick Transylvanian accent grates on me.
“I’ve been waiting a long while to meet you face to face, Dracula. I’m going to destroy you once and for all.”
“You have no idea vhat you’re up against. I am the Vampire King. I am the vone of True Blood!”
“I know exactly what I’m up against, Vampire, and believe me, your time is at hand.”
“Blahh, I suppose I should simply abandon my castle and kingdom, then… flee, never to return…”
“Don’t mock me, Vampire, I’ll see to it that your Vampire blood is spilt by my blade.” I fly at the Vampire with Vampire-Killer.

The Vampire turns to mist before my eyes, vanishing. My sword, embedded deep into the throne. I’m left alone in the empty hall of Dracula’s castle. Shadows cast, my only company.