Author's Notes:
Hello everyone, I'm sorry to disappoint but I can't take it anymore, I'm going through too many things that's messing up my mental health, I'm going to finally end it. This is my final work. Although, even as a ghost, you will still feel like as if I'm still there for you, entertaining all of you. This entire book was my cry for help, and a silent voice that needed to be heard by the world. Thank you, everyone.

ARC I “In the world of darkness that is obscured by human society, there is a vampire who has psychic abilities that are so powerful, his mind cannot bear it, to the point it drives him insane. He is in a political cold war between two clans of centuries long-fought of his own kind, given the legacy to dominate and take down the Vampire Council. His alias goes by the name of Voltaire, who was once human, a brilliant prodigy who fought his childhood traumas, only to lead him to life with the undead.”

ARC II "Realizing everything was none but a delusion, he became a serial killer after sacrificing his most loved one to the Great Old One, Nyarlathotep, whom a dead god that he appeases with blood and gore. He kills people and leaves bodies behind, in order to be an anonymous and infamous serial killer, just so he can be inspired to write books 'based on true events' of his crimes."

ARC III "His mental illnesses cured, realizing it was caused by some sort of cyber-psychosis that was implanted into his brain. Finally realizing that the reality he lives in is not what he actually thought. Indeed however, the reality he lives in is not some urban modern era. But a dystopian future, full of technology beyond his comprehension. He is now in a cyberpunk era of his world. Full of mysteries, conspiracy theories, and more insanity that will be unveiled."

ARC IV "Coming soon..."

Diary Of A Psychopath: Descent To Madness

"Who-where am I?" I questioned, as I woke up with a wound on my chest, not knowing what happened. 


"Dante… How did you know my real name? My name now is Voltaire. Wait… you look familiar!" I said as my vision slightly adjusted to the pale man reflecting the firepit, "You look like someone from that one painting in a Romanian Museum. My good friend took a photo when he went to find… Draculea?" 


"I am familiar with your sense of humour, Prince Dante. It must mean you are thirsty, my friend." 


When my vision finally went clear, I saw his face. It was the same face as the painting of Vlad the Impaler. That moustache, his cape, his ring, and his glorious hat and long black hair. Glorious! But no, history's painting got his face wrong, and he doesn't seem to look like the ones from the movies. He literally looks extremely handsome! 


He pointed the stick that he was using to make the firepit brighter towards the tied-up woman. "You seem to be craving for it, my friend. Go, have supper." 


I could not help myself, after a long night, wasting all of my energy, just to be almost killed and lose a lot of blood from such, I had to bite that precious neck of that young virgin woman, a thick rope tied around her body and mouth like a gag-ball and a bondage kink, her salty sweat dripped down her neck, my eyes glow bright red, then I sank my fangs into her neck, drained her dry, and killed her. 


After snapping back to reality after finally feeding, I took a step back, and felt guilty for what I've done. I was shaking and it was the first time I ever killed someone in my life. As a vampire, I've only taken a bit of blood from my human victims, but not this far! 


Draculea reacted to what I did. "Don't feel bad for your victims, my friend. Once you are 'beast', you are no longer human. The humanity that is stained in your non-existent soul is none but a burden to you, my friend. It will only haunt you for the rest of your eternity if you do not throw that away. Accept your inner beast, and become beyond just beast, and be a god. You are an immortal being that only other more powerful vampires can kill, perhaps the witty daylight assassins, to which we call them..., 'humans.". 


He continued to tend the fire with the stick. 


I tried to keep my composure. To which I easily did because I've fed enough blood to keep my hidden one curse 'sane'. Then, I spoke to Draculea and said, "What are you doing here? And how did I get here?" 


Despite seeing the real deal, the emperor himself in the flesh, I was too panicked to show my etiquette skills of formality. That is when he replied with, "My friend, you don't need to be so formal, despite you aren't, I know you will try to be." 


"Let me tell you a story about Ambrogio and Selena. Sit down." 


 "My Emperor, I do not think this is quite the time for that-" 


"Alright… alright… I sincerely apologise." 


"No need to be so formal. You are a guest here, as we all are vampires from the golden age. We are hospitable to our guests, and we must not come into an abode without an invitation. 


Free spirited youths do not understand such ethics to do so nowadays in the modern world, it is full of filth and disrespect. That is how I managed to keep my appeal as a humble host to any of the youth, vampire or human. Even werewolves and other creatures of the undead." 


I sat down beside him. That's when he told the tale of Ambrogio.


The Impaler Pt. 1