Vampires are not born; they are made.
Legacies are passed by power, not by blood right. Cunning, adaptability, the strength to conquer and the fortitude to withstand opposition are basic requirements of any ruler, but some are born and groomed into such roles. Vampires do no such coddling. They earn and hold their positions until they are outsmarted, outdone, defeated. Opportunities abound and the vampire capitalizes on the mistakes of both their enemies and their sires, rising above their squalor origins to become the master. Some vampires are created by the bite of another. Some from the blood of another. Some begin as humans, some other types of demons.
But in his case, he started as a puppet.
There's a sensation of fingers petting his hair; long slender digits combing through black locks in the same idle affection a human had for a placated dog. But unlike that dog who could revel in the show of love, he sits at his Master's feet, staring blankly ahead at the guests who had come to see the Master. There was no feeling to the light tugs, and he has no reaction to it or the words flying above his head. What was a marionette to do but simply be there and be something pleasing to glance at?
"The humans are proving to be a problem," one of the guests reported, rising from his kneeled position to directly speak to the Master. "They have found the courage to reform and their armies are no longer completely terrified by our presence alone."
The Master lightly twirled some of his puppet's loose locks around his fingers, looking bored. "Then begin putting them in their place," the Master replied, resting his cheek against his other fist. "Are you not demons? Should I make an example of you? Hades has been empty so I've heard…"
The guest recoiled, a look of disgust and terror on his face. "N-not at all, Master! The humans will be scattering and screaming within the day!"
"Lovely," the Master chuckled. "My new pet here has had trouble sleeping, a lullaby may be what he needs," He tugged on the puppet's hair, forcing his head up a bit higher for his pale face to be seen. "Come, my little Valvatorez, surely your transition is complete. Speak, let them hear that voice."
Valvatorez's eyes slowly shifted to the side, like he could see the Master from there. But he didn't dare move his head, and decided to look to the guests instead. They were giving him dark looks, as if he were an eyesore. Perhaps he was. He couldn't remember if this was what he truly looked like, or if it was a result of the Master's transformation of him into what he was now.
If he were anything prior to this, anyway.
"There is nothing to say." Valvatorez spoke, the only words that made sense to him.
"Indeed, for a puppet there isn't." The Master laughed, letting Valvatorez's hair go for a moment before beginning to pet it again. "But I find your company far more pleasing than these fools. You could frighten a few humans, couldn't you, pet?"
Valvatorez said nothing at first, his eyes glancing down at his appearance. He was a young man, but forced to wear frilly, over-priced clothing like a fine china doll. Perhaps if his appearance was simplified, fit more for his body and age; if he had a cloak like the Master, and allowed to stand on his own feet. If the large red and black screw imbedded into his heart to keep it from beating too much wasn't a symbol of being a vampire's marionette, then perhaps he could.
"I asked you a question, pet."
"I don't know." Valvatorez replied, keeping his eyes down. "I hardly look all that terrifying in these clothes."
"The lip on that one," a guest murmured, shifting his weight. "Where did you find the thing, Master?"
The vampire laughed, ruffling Valvatorez's hair. "I didn't. I made him. Isn't he splendid—so freshly made and capable of speaking full sentences? He follows commands so well also. Maybe I should redress him and send him out. If my puppet could scare the humans better than you lot… why, I'd have no need for any of you weaklings."
The other demons flinched. "Master, you would lose him. The humans would tear him apart."
"Then that would be his problem," the vampire replied coolly. His hand slipped from Valvatorez's hair, down his cheek and to his chin, turning the puppet's head toward him and up. The Master leaned down, touching his cheek to Valvatorez's as he spoke softly into the puppet's pointed ear, "Would you like to sow chaos and fear in the humans, pet?"
Valvatorez hardly heard him, the pulsing vein of his Master's neck so close to his lips. There was a surge of some sort of pain erupting from deep within, and Valvatorez found himself struggling to remain impassive as he was taught. Yet all he wanted at that moment was to part his lips and sink his teeth into that lazily beating, living pulse.
To distract himself, Valvatorez answered quietly, "Whatever my Master desires."
The answer was favorable to the Master, but it earned the very punishment Valvatorez dreaded; he didn't have the chance to flinch away, to brace himself when the vampire's fangs pierced his collar and skin. He could feel his blood be pulled out of him, but Valvatorez won't grasp at the Master, cling like some helpless dolt. He might be a puppet, but being created by the Master like this made him a demon. His hands form tight, shaking fists and he grits his teeth, shutting his eyes tightly and bearing the 'reward' he earned himself. He could feel the envious gazes of the guests, but if only they knew there was more shame than pleasure in this sort of servitude he never asked for.
When it finally ended Valvatorez turned his eyes away, keeping his head tilted just like he was taught so the Master could enjoy the sight of the bloodied ruined white collar, the perfectly circular holes in his neck slowly clotting up. When the Master's tongue ran over the remnants of blood on his skin Valvatorez withheld the urge to shudder in disgust. He knew this was how vampires were, but if he were a real vampire, he'd never force his victims to feel so… debased. Fear was one thing, but this? But the Master would never ease his feedings off him, never bewitch him like vampires could do before biting. Valvatorez was convinced the Master probably forced these feelings of shame on him anyway, just to prove a point.
After all, what else was a vampire's marionette for?
