Inhumanity

My POV

1801

I was just a scavenger; my name was not Voltaire at the time, and it was Drakwlya. Vlad Drakwlya was named by my father, Vlad Tepes, and I am his youngest son.

I was in New Orleans, where Bonaparte made a treaty peace truce with the Spaniard Colonies so they would not have another war like the 1770s when the Revolution Civil War broke out.

I was just a vulture looking for blood, never went hunting to kill actual people, and I only drank animal blood from corpses during the war.

And after I saw someone got killed, it was my chance to feed. Then a low-ranking officer with nothing but a rifle, no scimitar swords or pistols, only just a rifle with a stabbing knife on the endpoint under the hole of his gun.

He called me a monster shouting VAMPIRE, and I had to defend myself. This is where the first time it truly felt like killing someone, and I did kill him and drained him dry. My bloodlust and rage were calmed down after that, and I got rid of the bodies to the coast of New Orleans.

And then, after that, I spent my time drinking ale back at the tavern.

"You were so pale a while ago, but you came back looking very fleshy now, Drak."

"Indeed, so, my friend of a bartender. Give the usual, I want to forget."

He whispered to me right in front of my face, an inch far away.

"Just don't go on a bloody rampage here again… you hear me? I see you as a son. Regardless of how your father disappeared… I know you drank blood, but did you get rid of the bodies?"

I whispered back, "A coast guard in the alleyway tried to kill me for acting like a vulture or a hyena in the dark after someone was recently murdered… I… I killed him. I liked it, and I want to do it again…."

I panted heavily as my hands shook.

"Look, killing feels… some sort of bursting adrenaline, but if it was self defence, you're innocent… remember that. But as you are for a son of a Romanian, they can't trust you. Stay a low profile, like I advised you, Drak."

"I understand. Don't worry about me. I just want to forget it all."

"Well, recently the Spanish colonies sold us some good ale. It's nothing like ale but better. Trust me, you'll be swimmin'. On the house, brother."

"I'm broke as of now… I was so mindless I did not care about their money to loot them."

"Listen here Drak. Killing is wrong. You go down that path. It will make you walk the earth in a horrible maze full of fuckin' nothing but dead ends without an exit. Remember that. Promise me you won't go on a bloody rampage again here and I'll give you a coin or two with free ale on the house, which is something they call Alfonso… and Emperador. You do not drink it like ale. It is a shot they call it."

"Is that so?"

"Because the alcohol in that is strong as the heavens, my brother! HAHAHAH!!!"

"Yeah… heaven…"

I took the shot he gave me for a big bottle for free, and it tasted so horrible. I gagged.

"HAHAHAH! I TOLD YOU! It's nothin' like ordinary ale, son."

"I can't… drink this."

"They have something called a chaser, you can drink it slowly after taking a small shot, and then that way you will not be able to taste the bad bitterness of Alfonso."

I did as told and kept on drinking, and sooner I drank the entire bottle.

"Slow down, kid, woah there!"

I passed out that night, and he took me to my room. I live here and work here, but I spend my time eating rats to feed on blood at night times.

If my foster father, the bartender named Mickalous Jackston, wanted to find me, he would follow the trails of dead rats and see me under the sewers, sleeping in the cold and dirty slime.

That is how he first found me. The only one who knows I am a vampire who thinks I am human to him. I gladly appreciate that.

After I had woken up in the morning, there was a stake in my heart, a wooden one. They thought this was a way to kill me, and our whole tavern house was burnt to ashes. I have no family anymore. I took the stake off my heart, and it was crucially painful.

And then let myself regenerate into the sewers.

I was a wanted man at that time, and I fled to another country.

That is where I changed my name to Voltaire Feaster. Everyone assumed the vampire in the streets of New Orleans was dead. But I had a change of mind fleeing to another country; instead, I went to the swamps of the Bayou.

I lived homeless there with the other folks. Some tried to help. My thirst for the killing was worse than my own blood rage underneath my fangs. I started to cause a panicking rampage and burned everything, going psychotic.

Chapter 8—Vlad VI Drakwlya Tepes

1978 Vatican Church

Everyone is welcome, even for vampires in the house of God.

I was welcomed as a very important person in the church of the Vatican. The main capital church of the city.

There was an underground library where the dark forces are at. But there was also a scientist part of a Federal Force Government that stopped vampires from raging or even taking over the world.

It seems that I was afraid of the cross because of the blood I drank so far in my life. People were fearful of the cross and the genetics I had from them came through my bloodstreams up my brain. And the sunlight, yes, it does burn. I was known as Voltaire there, hiding my actual name after the incident in New Orleans that was a part of the Spanish Colonies in Louisiana.

I studied everything about vampires in scientific matters in all ways possible.

And I completely understood it all. In movies I have seen so far are very over-exaggerated, and I studied many things about vampires, especially the psychological brain of vampires.

Although their sociology notes of this scientist who studied about vampires and experimented and interviewed so far… he wrote here in his notes and manuscripts on how Vampires cannot enter a home without an invitation, even for mindless blood raging, one cannot enter unless invited.

I thought that was just a myth, but that has been my nobleman code over the decades, and it's pretty accurate. All vampires cannot enter homes without an invitation, no matter how ruthless they are for hunting for blood.

But the evidence shows here is unknown why their sociological brains work on why it feels like a force that they cannot enter.

The reason for vampires being gloomy and dark and depressed, impulsive and very irritable, and their temper loses it with anger very fast because of their low serotonin levels as the HAPPINESS AND SANITY LEVELS of the brain, I call it myself.

They have low receptors and uptake of those. No matter how many antidepressants you take, there is no cure for it.

However, their dopamine levels are quite the overdrive, especially on feeding blood.

Their dopamine levels are naturally very high. Some cases of vampires go psychotic or manic in the process.

Their adrenaline and endorphin levels are very released quickly when it comes to sense danger before it even comes near them.

It is like their 8th sense, I call it.

There are 5 senses in the brain and the 6th sense is the one that keeps us surviving and the other 7th sense is the 3rd eye Pagans call it. The 8th sense makes them so alert to danger with their fight-or-flight behaviour.

I studied all of them in many manuscripts about vampires in a day and fell asleep after studying.

Science has evolved over the years more than just modern medicine and technology.