Chapter One: Daffyd

It was a simple trap.

Abraham Van Helsing stood no chance against my scheme. I had been informed of his repeater crossbow by one of the negligently escaped victims from one of his raids. A weapon that stopped my master and one that I would not fall victim to.

As planned, he came through the door alone. It was here that I rested on a step, waiting for him. How arrogance could be so predominant in one man I could not understand.

A victim of pride without knowing.

We shared words. They went along the lines of how he dreamed of the day to find the veil. My own was only to inform him that the others he brought to survey the area and wipe the others they could find from existence would not be found.

It was him and me.

A single handed, repeater crossbow. A beautiful marvel of engineering. Firing one shot, pulling on a lever to make the firing string taught and a barrel below that could house numerous bolts.

Had I not been aware, I may have found this weapon quite the challenge.

One by one, he fired.

One by one, he missed.

Each one precisely where my heart was a second before. Had I been any slower, I would have been dead. Then I was upon him. My hand through his chest, gripping his heart, allowing him a few more seconds of life as I pumped the blood through his veins.

And then I crushed it.

This brought no contest when I stood to claim the crown. The Council declared me instant victor, sentencing my opponents to their fates: death.

***

Reading through my old notes, the wide swinging doors from the end of my throne room distract me. Mason walks in, with Hamish at his tail, blabbering about how I would not want to see him today. How wrong he was.

“Hamish, you can relax,” I gesture him off with a flourishing wrist. “Mason is here on important business.”

And if Hamish paid closer attention to the heads in Mason’s hand, he would notice that they were the all too familiar heads of the Council. He says nothing, throwing the heads at my feet. This is where, in a past life, I would have Hamish bring him his payment. Now, things seem to be changed around.

“I do believe Brooke has your payment?” I’m uncertain of the details revolving around the payment for the Council, but I don’t care too much for it either. This simple gesture puts me at the top of the pyramid from now until the new Council is enlisted, and even then, they are my own men and women, hand-selected to be the puppets I want them to be.

“Yes,” Mason replies, “I will take those matters up with her as soon it’s necessary. Tell me, Daffyd, what do you have in store for this world?”

I can’t help but chuckle. “World peace, curing world hunger, you know…the altruist’s handbook.”

Mason knows I’m lying. I can see it in those cold, red eyes. Still, he nods in agreement. “Then so be it. A better world for all.”

“Yes. A better world for all, but some get it a little better than others, right?”

“Yes. It seems so. There’s always got to be one of us at the top.”

His arrogance outweighs my own, but I can never tell if he’s being serious or just trying to rile me up. I shrug it off.

“You’ve done a good thing here, Mason,” I give him the credit he deserves.

“Have I?” he questions. Then, silence. A comfortable silence. Something unknown to us. “What are you reading there, Daffyd?”

His question takes me by surprise. Mason has always been the kind to either know precisely what is going on or the kind not to care enough.

“I’m reading the notes I wrote years ago. You remember? The days of the Shredder? Mattheus and the establishment of a vampire hierarchy that only found its founder’s death.”

“Must be an interesting read,” he says. Neither of us can recall those early days, I suppose. My own memories extend to around the mid eighteen-hundreds. Everything before that has been erased from memory. That is why, as I read over these notes, I wonder why it changed. Who did I become? A man that gave up on his master’s rules to become his own master. A master of nothing. An empire of nothingness. I call the shots but I do not rule those who are beneath me. They fear me. Mason seeks nothing but payment. This is not how a king should lead.

“It is. I have just gotten to my induction to the crown. Did you know, once long before you ever entered my world, I killed Abraham Van Helsing?” I wonder how he would react to the comment. Again, I find myself thinking about how the drive and courage to slaughter Van Helsing himself was reduced so much to handing over every simple task to an Ancient Vampire. Or an underling. When... How did I become so lazy that I would drop my own self-respects to be just another useless monarch?

“I did not, but who can remember those days anyway?” A sly comment. These were my own thoughts exactly. Those days are long behind us.

“Agreed.” Something about Mason is perplexing. He is not the same as he always is. Perhaps he has changed in his absence. Seeking a new home. There’s always a place for him here, so long as he bows down to the crown.

“Did you ever write any of your own life stories down?” I put my writing back into a pile and give my full attention to him. I do believe that if he ever did write down his life story, it would be tragically fascinating. A tale of the ages.

“No.” I can’t help but admit I am disappointed in his answer. “I have other ways of remembering.”