The wind whispered through the ravaged bones of the village, where collapsed rooftops groaned under the pressure of rot and time. Ashes scattered like snow across blackened stone and charred wood, silent testimony to the cleansing fire that had been left in the wake of whatever creature passed through here. But deep beneath that husk of destruction, in the hollow of a collapsed cellar, something moved.
Something breathed.
Nick's eyes opened slowly—red, glowing, unfocused at first. The darkness of the cellar posed no obstacle; every crevice was laid bare in crisp detail to his altered sight. His skin tingled with awareness, the hunger already clawing at his gut like a starving beast.
Across from him, nestled in a splintered corner, Lenara stirred with mechanical grace. Her pale hand reached up to brush away her tangled black curls, her eyes—luminous violet—fixing on him with sharp, emotionless curiosity. The scent of blood, dried and ancient in the soil, brought a faint smirk to her lips.
"We're awake. I'm surprised that sleep feels so good now that we're not human," she said softly.
Nick grinned, his fangs bared. "Forget that I'm starving."
They rose in tandem, dust and rot slipping from their clothes like dead skin. What had once been ghoulish dead bodies feasting endlessly were now reborn into something grotesquely beautiful—flawless skin, sharpened senses, perfect symmetry... and a thirst that pierced deeper than instinct.
Nick flexed his fingers, the bones cracking, the black nails stretching into smooth, talon-like tips. "I can feel the air on my skin," he murmured. "It's disgusting. Sticky. Alive."
Lenara didn't reply at first. She was listening—to heartbeats in the distance. "There's a hamlet two miles north. Wood smoke. Sheep dung. Five… maybe six families. One pregnant woman. Two virgins from the scent of blood. One of them prays nightly."
Nick's grin widened. "You're scary when you talk like that."
"And you like it," she replied, tilting her head with a touch of amusement as she walked over and kissed Nick.
Together, they emerged from the rubble into the moonlight. No longer fragile humans. Not even ghouls. They were Umbra Vampires, born of Zero's craft—a new breed of predator. One meant to haunt the world and carve their legend in blood.
They arrived at the edge of the hamlet before the hour struck midnight.
The little village was pathetic. Four cabins, one two-story barn, and a crumbling shrine to some forgotten harvest god. Chickens dozed in wire pens. A mangy dog barked weakly before retreating under a porch.
"I want the one in the shrine," Lenara said. "She sings and prays before she sleeps. I want to taste the hope in her."
Nick stretched, his frame lean and loose like a cat about to pounce. "You take the pure one. I'll take the loud girl from the west cabin. I can hear her moaning through the window."
"You would."
"You like it."
Lenara smiled. "I do. We're going to ruin them and see if there's a candidate here who could join our family."
Nick didn't walk—he glided into the cabin's shadow, slipping through a cracked window like smoke. Inside, a girl of perhaps twenty lay in a creaky bed, her body tangled in thin linens. Her breath came fast and shallow, and the man beside her slept like a stone.
Nick leaned over her, letting her subconscious feel him. Her breath hitched. She whimpered.
He whispered, "Wake up."
Her eyes fluttered open—and met his.
Fear.
Arousal.
Confusion.
Delight.
All tangled in one.
He fed on that look first. Then he traced a cold finger down her lips, leaning in so close his breath fogged her skin as he licked her. "You're beautiful," he whispered. "And tonight… you'll be more."
By the time her scream came, it was far too late.
Nick proceeded to snap the neck of the man next to her. He then ripped off her clothes and proceeded to violate the woman as he slowly drained her blood.
Elsewhere Lenara knelt at the foot of the shrine, her hands clasped in mock prayer. The girl inside—no older than sixteen—was finishing a hymn, her voice trembling but sweet. The last note had barely faded before Lenara was behind her, whispering.
"Such pretty words. Such fragile faith."
The girl turned—and screamed, but Lenara was already touching her throat. "Shh. You'll ruin the melody."
She didn't kill her. Not yet.
Instead, she brought her back to the girl's home, where her mother and father slept. She watched from the shadows as the girl pleaded, wept, and begged her parents to wake up—only to realize they were already dead. Drained dry. Their mouths frozen mid-cry.
"You should've screamed louder," Lenara murmured from the darkness as she licked her lips dyed in blood. "Maybe they would've heard."
The girl collapsed, sobbing. That was the moment Lenara drank—slowly. Tasting grief, despair, horror.
And love.
The blood tasted divine.
By dawn, five of the six families were dead. The last had fled into the woods, unaware that they had been allowed to live—because fear needed to spread. A myth needed witnesses.
The two vampires stood atop the hill overlooking the smoking ruin.
Nick wiped a smear of blood from his lips. "So this is it. This is us now. I love this. I can't ever believe we used to be like them. So pathetic."
Lenara was licking her fingers. "It's only the beginning. We'll drown this world in blood."
"Do you think he's watching? Our creator and master?"
She didn't have to ask who. "Of course. He wants us to become this. This is why he chose and graced us with this gift. He wants the world to fear us."
Nick looked at the trees. "Then maybe we give it a push. Start turning a few… build something."
Lenara's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "One. Just one for now. But the right one."
Nick grinned. "A project."
"A lesson," she corrected. "Let's find something pure. Something… worth breaking."
They vanished into the dawn haze, shadows with crimson eyes, hunger trailing behind them like fog.
And the villagers left in distant hamlets whispered of the night that walked, and the two monsters who didn't hide.