Here is the third and final part of this story's prologue.
1443, Turkey:
A young boy, around 12 years old, of Romanian descent with black hair was tied facing a pillar shirtless with his arms over his head. A man dressed in a Turkish guard uniform was repeatedly striking the boy with a whip leaving multiple wounds on the boy's back while yelling angry words in Turkish language. Despite the horrible pain being inflicted upon him, the boy wore a defiant glare on his face while holding back his frustrated tears.
"That's enough!" a bearded man wearing royal Turkish clothing commanded the guard and entering the room.
"My sultan," the guard acknowledged bowing his head and ceasing the beating.
The boy turned to see the man who had stopped his brutal torture.
"Vlad, why do you do this?" the sultan addressed the boy. "I allow you and your brother to live in my palace, feed you, cloth you, educate you so you can grow up to be a great man and ruler of your country. Wallachia needs a good voivode, one loyal to the Ottoman Empire." The boy responded by spitting toward the sultan earning a disapproving look from the Turkish monarch. "You disappoint me, your brother is much more grateful. Take him away."
The boy was taken to the dungeons where he was locked in one of the cells. There he sat in one of the corners angrily glaring at his environment while struggling to hold back his tears of pain and frustration. As time passed, young Vlad entertained himself by taking pieces of wood he found and fashioned them into small pointy sticks. Whenever a rat would scurry into his cell, he would catch the poor rodent and impale it on one of the pointy sticks he made. He would insert the pointy end into the rodent's backside. Eventually, a guard came by to check on the young Vlad. To his horror, he found the boy's cell decorated with around twenty impaled rats. He had found gaps between the bricks of the cell floor in which to stand the impaled rodents upright. The nauseated guard quickly ran from the disturbing scene before him.
"You're quite the interior decorator," a young sounding voice asked.
The young Vlad got up and looked through the bars of his cell to find another boy around the same age sitting in the cell just across from his. This boy wore raggedy clothing, had pale skin, long light blonde hair, and blue eyes.
"Are you alright?" the boy asked.
"Of course I am!" Vlad replied with defiant pride. "I am Vlad III of the House of Draculesti and the future Voivode of Wallachia, and I will not be broken and become a puppet for those vile Turks!"
"So that's why you're here," the impressed blonde boy concluded. "You certainly have a strong will. You just need to make your body stronger."
"I will," young Vlad declared. "And when I do, I will take my rightful place and lead my country into an age of greatness." Then curiosity took over. There was something about this other boy that felt otherworldly. "Who are you?"
"Just call me Tenshi," the boy replied with a friendly smile. His eyes were filled with fascination as he stared at the Romanian boy in the cell across from him. "I am to be shipped out tomorrow to become a soldier in the sultan's army. I hope to meet you again when I return."
Vlad was surprised by this boy's calmness and confidence. He knew the fate that usually awaited young boys who were chosen to become members of the Ottoman army. The likelihood of them ever seeing each other again was nonexistent, but this one fully believed not only he would survive but would also return.
"I think the two of us could make a powerful team that could change this world, Vlad of Wallachia."
Modern Day, One Week Later:
Yuuto Sabanto, a solicitor from Japan, sat all alone twitching in the corner of a small cold dark dungeon cell. His clothes were dirty, his hair was messy, and his eyes were bloodshot. A week ago, he was a guest of the enigmatic Romanian aristocrat, Prince Vlad, who had invited him for a business trip to his country. Now he was a prisoner in the man's castle. Each day, the prince would visit his 'guest' in his cell. Each time he visited, Sabanto would learn more fascinating and horrific things about his host and in return teach him more about the language and customs of his country. The Japanese real estate agent soon descended into madness the more he succumbed to the prince's influence.
"I've done everything that you've asked, Master," Sabanto said in a disturbing raspy voice. "All the preparations are in order. You will keep your promise. I will serve you and you will let me share in the immortality of your people. You will give me lives, not big ones, but small ones so that I may prolong my mortal life and continue to dedicate it in service to you."
He stood up and slowly walked over to the other side of his cell. There something on the wall, something small, that caught his attention. He stopped when he was a foot from the wall. Then with fast catlike reflexes, he swiped his hand across the wall and grabbed something that was sitting on it. The real estate agent held up his hand and saw a small struggling fly caught between his finger and thumb. After a moment of staring at the tiny helpless creature with crazed excitement in his eyes, he popped it into his mouth. The crazed man enjoyed every moment as he digested the small insect.
"Blood is life!"
Outside, many small black bats and other winged creatures flew through the cold night air toward the castle. Several of them gathered in the courtyard where they transformed into people, some looked more human than others. They all bore contrasting physical appearances and clothing. All of them were vampires from many different races, cultures, and nations across the world. Waiting in the courtyard was a man. He was tall and sturdy and wore mostly black clothes including a long leather coat, leather boots, fingerless gloves, pants and a leather belt. He had normal colored skin, but his ears were slightly pointed, his fingernails were long and black, he wore a grin that showed sharp fangs amongst his teeth, and red eyes like that of a hungry wolf. He also had long black hair and a big goatee.
"Well, looks like a lot of guests from around the world have come for the party," the beastly-looking man commented in a deep taunting tone to the arrivals. "Royalty, nobility, the rich high-class, and even the parasites," he said casting his eyes on a small preteen-looking girl with pale skin, pointed ears, white hair with a red blow tied in the back, red eyes, and wearing a red and white aristocratic dress.
The girl let out an animalistic hiss at the man's comment showing a pair of sharp fangs in her mouth.
"That's enough, Griswold!" an angry teenage-looking girl stepped forward and snapped at the rude man. She looked almost exactly like the gypsy girl from over a month ago, except her skin was slightly pale, her eyes were red, her long hair and lips were black, and she wore a dark violet aristocratic dress.
"Nice to see you again, Countess Karnstein," the beastly man known as Griswold tauntingly greeted the woman.
"If you are finished insulting your guests with your words and your presence, be a good dog and go fetch your master," the disgusted countess demanded.
"Of course, your grace," Griswold replied in fake tone of respect and a sadistic sneer before turning around and entering the castle.
"Werewolves," the little girl commented with contempt. "Even the ones on our side still need training."
"Can we please hurry up and go in?" a beautiful woman, possibly twenties, impatiently asked while adoring her reflection in a small handheld mirror. She had slightly normal colored skin, red eyes and lips, long fingernails painted red, and long dark brown hair held together in the back. She wore a golden tiara on her head, diamond rings on her fingers, a golden necklace, bracelets, and a long dark red and black sleeveless backless dress with slits on both sides which showed off her back, arms, legs, and cleavage. "I had to go through a dozen young peasant girls to gain this beautiful visage and I would hate for it to be ruined waiting out here in the cold air."
"Nice to see you too, Countess Bathory," Karnstein begrudgingly greeted to which the countess gave a smug smirk.
"How is it that you are able to see your reflection in that mirror?" the girl asked curiously.
"My dear little Mary," Bathory proudly boasted. "This is a special mirror given to me by my witches so that I may see my perfect beauty whenever I want."
Karnstein rolled her eyes disgusted with the countess's vanity.
Somewhere in the castle, Orlok was in a room placing a large brass bowl beneath a series of tubes connected to a huge cube-shaped metal chamber hanging from the ceiling. As he finished positioning the brass bowl beneath the open tubes, Griswold entered the room.
"The guests are all here," he informed Orlok.
"Excellent," the creepy-looking servant replied. "I shall inform the master. While I do that, would you kindly finish preparing dinner? The ingredients are all in there," he instructed pointing up to the suspended chamber.
"With pleasure," Griswold replied with a sadistic grin.
"Make sure you don't contaminate the supper. Here is the key," Orlok said handing the brutish man a key before leaving the room.
Griswold made his way up a wooden staircase positioned so that it led up to the hanging chamber. It led to a door built on the cubic chamber which included a handle and a keyhole. Using the key given to him by Orlok, Griswold unlocked the door and opened to reveal the interior of the chamber. Inside, the metal walls were stained with blood. Sitting within the chamber were five struggling people, three men and two women, all with their hands tied behind their backs, their legs bound, and their mouths gagged. When the people saw Griswold, they immediately began mumbling to him. Their mumbling sounded desperate, as if they were begging him to help them. The beastly-looking man made no move to help or comfort any of them. He raised his right hand and bore his claws and his eyes began to glow red with bloodlust. Griswold closed the door behind him, sealing himself in with the helpless prisoners. Outside, one could hear Griswold letting out a sadistic chuckle which seemed to grow more and more beastly. Suddenly, the sounds of a vicious animal growling and roaring, metal banging, clothes and flesh tearing, and people screaming could be heard as the suspended chamber began to shake violently. As this was going on, blood started flowing through the tubes connected to the chamber and dripping into the brass bowl placed beneath them.
Inside a huge dining room, all the guests who had arrived were seated around a large circular table. Draped over the table was a dark crimson tablecloth with a large bright red dragon-shaped symbol on it. There was only one chair that remained empty. Countess Karnstein was seated to the right of the empty chair while Countess Bathory was seated to the left. The small girl called Mary was seated next to Karnstein. A handsome-looking, well-dressed gentleman, possibly late twenties to early thirties, with short dark brown hair, normal colored skin, slightly pointed ears and fingernails, and red eyes was seated next to Bathory.
Orlok entered the room carrying the brass bowl which was now filled with blood. Griswold stood in the doorway watching. The ghastly Nosferatu placed it in the center of the table between all the guests.
"The master is busy at the moment," Orlok announced. "He will join you shortly. Until then, please help yourselves."
"It's freshly squeezed!" Griswold jokingly informed everyone. He licked his lips, which had a little blood on them, before leaving while chuckling to himself. Orlok followed behind.
At the table, everyone took their goblets and used them to scoop up the blood in the bowl and drink it.
"Mmmmm! I haven't tasted decent human blood in a long time!" a satisfied Mary commented. "Most humans today live unhealthy lifestyles. It makes their blood taste fatty."
Soon, the guests started forming conversations with one another, mainly about why they had all been summoned to this castle in Romania.
"So it is true?" a male Nachrehrer, a German vampire, asked. "The demons from ancient times are preparing for their return?"
"Indeed," a male Adze, an African vampire, replied. "My clan has felt their presence in the world grow rapidly. I can assume the count has felt it too. Which is why he summoned us all here."
"Do we have any idea of what their intentions are?" asked a Baodhan Sith, a Scottish female vampire.
"According to legend, they once ruled the Earth before the existence of humans," a female Vetala, a Hindu vampire, explained. "It's safe to say that their intention is to wipe out the human race and take back this world for themselves."
"While humanity has come far in their advancement of technology, it won't be enough to counter the demons' inherent ability to merge with other lifeforms and become stronger," Countess Karnstein said. "They would be slaughtered."
"They can't!" yelled a Soucouyant, a female Caribbean vampire, slamming her fist on the table. Small flames flickered from her hand on impact. "Without the life force of humans to feed on, we'd all might as well return to our resting places permanently!"
"No more of that sweet, sweet blood?!" Mary exclaimed in horror dropping her goblet.
"As much as I loathe those pathetic, insignificant humans, their blood is the only thing keeping me beautiful," Bathory voiced her opinion.
"I propose we rally our spawn, ghouls, draugr, strigoi and all other undead under our power and prepare them for battle immediately," the Nachrehrer suggested.
"That is a futile effort," a female Rokurokubi, a Japanese vampire, disagreed. "The demons are growing rapidly in strength and number. We don't have enough resources to fight them."
"Well then go make more!" the Sourcouyant demanded. "Just find a small worthless human village and turn the whole lot of them into our thralls."
"We can't just carelessly use humans to try and make our armies bigger than that of the demons," Karnstein argued. "We'd be wasting resources."
"Now look here, Countess Karnstein!" the Sourcouyant angrily replied. "Just because it was you who was responsible for reviving the count doesn't make you the queen of all vampires!"
"Karnstein's right!" Mary interrupted. "Tasty human blood is already hard to come by these days."
"Silence, child!" the Nachrehrer snapped at her.
"Child?!" the offended little vampiress responded. "I'm just as old as most you here!"
"Everyone, please be civil," the gentleman sitting next to Bathory interrupted in an English accent.
"Stay out of this, Lord Ruthven!" the Sourcouyant snapped.
"We are not accomplishing anything with this bickering!" said a male Jiangshi, a Chinese vampire.
Soon everyone at the table engaged in heated arguments. Little did they know that while they were all arguing, Prince Vlad, whose true name was Count Dracula, was standing out of sight by the entrance to the dining room. He had Sabanto's mobile phone with him and was getting used to how it worked. The count wanted no part in such foolish banter, so he decided to entertain himself for a while by looking up Japanese magazine covers and photographs. Most of the things he looked up contained images of the beautiful young girl named Miki Makimura Sabanto had shown him a week ago.
"Enough!" Karnstein yelled silencing everyone at the table and getting their attention. "We need to create a strategy to protect the balance we've created in the world."
"If the humans cannot defeat the demons on their own and we vampires don't have the resources to fight for them, then what can we do?" a vampire with a French accent asked. He had long dark hair, a goatee, pointed ears, and red eyes filled with hate. He wore crimson and silver armor and a black and red cape.
The table suddenly became silent as everyone started contemplating on finding a solution to this dark and crucial problem. Seeing this as his opportunity to get involved, Dracula put the phone away in his robes and entered the room with Orlok following behind.
"You're all hopeless," the count said catching everyone's attention as he took his seat at the table. Orlok stood to the right of his master's seat.
"Count Dracula!" the Nachrehrer responded in surprise.
"It's no wonder our kind has fallen on such hard times in my absence," the count remarked in a condescending tone. "Even when brought together, you all can't come up with a suitable solution on your own."
"I take it you have a solution, my lord?" Lord Ruthven asked.
"Indeed, Ruthven," Dracula replied and took his seat at the table. "At the moment of my second death, I saw visions of what the world was like when the demons ruled it. When Countess Karnstein resurrected me, the first thing I felt was their presence in the world. I realized I had returned to the mortal plane just when they were beginning theirs. I could feel their hatred and bloodlust. It was then I realized their plans, his plans. The demons aren't the only beasts that are preparing to resurface."
Expressions of fear and concern formed on the faces of the council. They knew exactly who the count was talking about, and it made more worried about this issue than before.
"If he is returning as well, then what chance do any of us have of winning?" the Jiangshi asked.
"Do not overestimate our enemy," Dracula calmly and confidently assured his guests. "I know him better than anyone and I guessed his strategy a long time ago. The demons will eventually make their existence known. However, they won't simply destroy humanity themselves. In all the years of my existence, I have discovered humans possess an inherent fatal weakness: fear. They fear what they can't understand, what is not like them. The demons will most certainly use their fear to turn them against each other."
"And once the humans have killed enough of themselves, the demons will finish off the rest," Karnstein concluded.
"So how do we stop this?" asked a hideous-looking male vampire with pale skin, pointed ears, long dark hair, long fingernails, and wearing a 17th Century English Royalist uniform.
"An excellent question, Sir Varney," the count replied. "We must go to war with the demons, that is inevitable. However, since resources and warriors are thin the possibility of victory is nonexistent, and when demons start using humanity's fear to trick them into slaughtering one another it will give them a great advantage over us. If humans go extinct, it won't be long till vampires follow."
"And your solution…" the French armored vampire said impatiently.
"The solution, Baron de Rais, is simple," Dracula replied. "What is the best weapon to use against monsters?" No one replied as they couldn't come up with a good answer. "An even more powerful and terrifying monster. You see, back when I was Voivode of Wallachia, I ruled my country with might and fear. Anyone foolish enough to cross me was displayed on wooden spikes. Did anyone ever wonder why barely anyone dared to try and revolt against me?" Again, no one had an answer. "As ruthless as I was, it was that same ruthless that not only struck fear in the hearts of my people, but my enemies as well. I was the only one with the power, strength, and the will to fight the hated Ottomans who sought to take over Wallachia."
"I think I get it now," the Baodhan Sith said. "When the demons reveal their existence and power, send the world into a panic, then we come in and offer our aid to the desperate humans!"
"Exactly!" the count replied. "Though, not without a price which I'm sure they'll be desperate enough to pay. We will agree to rid the world of the demons in return for their unending servitude and recognition of us as the superior species. It will be the beginning of a new age, the Age of the Vampire! That is the ultimate purpose of this organization, the New Order of the Dragon!"
The speech left many at the table speechless.
"This plan is folly, it will never work!" a doubtful vampiress with a Slavic accent and wearing Slavic clothing broke the silence catching everyone's attention. The count gave a disturbing glare in her direction. "Fear turns people into animals beyond reasoning and without conscience willing to kill anything they see as a threat." While the Slavic vampiress was making her statement, some members at the table were beginning to from doubtful looks on their faces as if agreeing with her. "Humans destroy what they fear and don't understand. They will surely try to destroy us if we reveal ourselves. To them, we'd be just more demons. Besides, the demons outnumber us and are more powerful than us, we wouldn't stand a chance of winning a war against them! If this is the best you can come up with, my lord, then my clan will have no part in it."
For a moment, Dracula eyed the doubter with deadly contempt. But soon the fury in his eyes faded as he regained his composure. "I anticipated some of you would doubt my plan, so I prepared this in advance," he replied snapping his fingers.
Griswold walked into the dining room. With him, he carried a boombox in his right hand while leading a young scantily dressed woman by her wrist in his left. The woman didn't seem to mind, or even notice, where she was. She was moving and making strange noises. She was here in person, but she acted as if her mind were somewhere else.
"Here it is, master," Griswold announced. "She's inhaled enough of that dusty stuff that she can't even recognize who are."
"Is this where the Sabbath party is supposed to be?" the dizzy woman asked in a goofy tone. "I can't tell."
"What is the meaning of this?" the Nachrehrer asked.
"Since my resurrection, I have been performing experiments with captured humans and demons," Dracula explained. "This one will provide a little demonstration of what I have discovered. Griswold, play the music."
The beastly man pressed a button on the boombox, and strange beat music started playing.
"Is that the music?" the scatterbrained woman asked hearing the tune. "Guess I am in the right place."
The count took his chalice, scooped some blood from the bowl on the table, and doused the woman with it.
"Oh shit! Looks somebody spilled their booze!" she said and started laughing. However, her laughter came to a sudden halt.
Suddenly, the woman started making painful groans and grunts and her body started shaking violently. Then her body started undergoing a horrendous transformation. Her head split in half with sharp teeth emerging from the wound, her ears and breasts morphed into tentacles with eyeballs at the ends, her arms and legs split apart forming more limbs, and her stomach opened and became a mouth with sharp teeth. This horrifying beast let out some inhuman roars and growls.
Many vampires at the table stood up into defensive stances, but Dracula remained completely calm. The count threw off his robes leaving the upper half of his body bare. His torso and arms was gaunt and wrinkly. The hideous creature lunged at the elderly count only to be stopped in its tracks when he grabbed two of its arms. Despite his decrepit appearance, Dracula was very strong and held the beast back with ease. Then he ripped both its arms out of their sockets. Blood sprayed everywhere while the creature howled in pain. Then with inhuman speed, the count leaped toward the creature and sank his fangs into its neck. The monster screeched in agony as its lifeblood was drained. The guests all watched in shock at what was transpiring before their eyes. A moment later, the beast fell to the ground dead. Its blood still dripping from its assailant's fangs.
Then, Dracula started to groan as his body started undergoing a transformation of its own. A dark aura began to emit from the count as he underwent a strange metamorphosis. His muscles grew, the wrinkles disappeared, his white hair turned black, and his skin took on a more natural tone. Everyone watched in awe as the count's appearance changed from a decrepit elderly man to a handsome and muscular middle-aged man.
"As you can see, I have discovered that consuming demon blood can enhance a vampire's power," Dracula announced basking in the amazement of his guests. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, the count disappeared from where he stood and appeared hanging from the ceiling above the dining table. "Our speed, strength, and senses are increased tenfold."
Then the count disappeared again, and everyone heard the sounds of wood breaking and flesh tearing. They all turned to find Dracula had appeared behind the chair of the Slavic vampiress who had doubted him. He had driven his hand through her chair, into her back, and through her chest. He held her bloody beating heart in his hand before crushing it and pulling his arm out of her. The vampiress's lifeless body collapsed on the table.
Many of the other guests stared in shock and horror at the brutal execution of their fellow guest. Lord Ruthven, Baron de Rais, and Countess Bathory looked indifferent while little Mary let out a cruel chuckle at the vampiress's unfortunate end.
"Does anyone else have any doubts about my plan?" Dracula asked the rest of the guests while licking the blood from his hand. To his satisfaction, no one answered. They dared not to. "Excellent. This is the true power of fear, the power to force the weak into servitude."
"So by drinking demon blood, we can become stronger?" Mary asked excitedly.
"Correct, my dear Mary," the count replied and held out his bloody hand to her, to which she started licking greedily.
"If that's the case, wouldn't it be better to keep demons alive and feed on their blood instead of humans, my lord?" Ruthven asked.
"It would seem like the more preferable solution, Ruthven," Dracula replied. "However, demons are a lot harder to control and less abundant than humans. If they are not all destroyed, the war will never end. However, by using demon blood to increase our unnatural powers, we can give ourselves an edge in the coming conflict. True that if we wipe out the demons, we won't be able to increase our power with their blood. But that is a necessary loss as we will still be far more powerful than humans."
"And when we destroy the demons, humanity won't dare defy us," Bathory said.
"Exactly," the count replied. "And thanks to the help of our new friend, Mr. Sabanto, I have purchased five estates in the country of Japan where the demons' presence is the strongest. It is there where I will set into motion the downfall of the demons' plans. This brings me to our next order of business: who among you is willing to accompany your king while I embark on this quest?"
The rest of the guests seated around the table started chanting amongst themselves for a moment to decide who will join the count's company.
"Well, I support this plan and will be the first to pledge my power and resources in service to the count," Countess Bathory announced.
"As will I," Countess Karnstein said. "I was there when the count returned to the mortal plane, so I'll accompany him till the end."
"I will also join the count's entourage," Lord Ruthven announced.
"Count me in," Sir Varney said.
"I will join your company," Baron de Rais said. "However, I would like you to promise me a couple things in return."
"Whatever your conditions, Baron, they shall be met in turn for your service," Dracula agreed.
"I'm coming too!" Mary announced excitedly. "I want the chance to grow stronger and taste more sweet blood."
"Serve me well, little Mary, and you will have as much blood as you want," the count promised to which the vampire girl giggled with excitement.
"If you are going to Japan, then my clan will serve you," the Rokurokubi said.
"Then it is decided," Dracula said satisfied. "Sabanto and Griswold will see to it that we are transported safely to Japan where we will ensure the coming war turns in our favor. The rest of you will increase your powers and start mobilizing your armies. The Age of the Demon will never return, the Age of Man will end, and the Age of the Vampire will begin!"
In response to this, everyone at the table started cheering and raising their goblets in agreement while their leader basked in the praise of his followers.
"Master," Orlok whispered to the count. "What of the creature we have locked up in our dungeon?"
"Bring him along as well," Dracula answered. "His strength may be useful."
"Suppose he decides to betray us?"
"He has endured much of humanity's prejudice, he has nowhere else to go."
Down in the lowest parts of the castle, in one of the deepest dungeons, sat a mysterious, tall and muscular man. Almost his entire body was covered by a long hooded gray coat, save for his hands and feet. Long strands of black hair hung from the inside of his hood. His skin was yellowish and had grotesque stitches. There in his cell, he sat alone, waiting for his master to come for him.
"Who is this new ally you have found for us, my lord?" a curious Bathory asked overhearing the conversation.
"The Modern Prometheus!"
Somewhere, a lean young man, about 16 years of age, with light blonde Korean-undercut hair with blue eyes and pale skin was in a dimly lit bedroom packing a suitcase. He wore a large white overcoat. As he was in the middle of packing, his back stiffened and his eyes widened as if he felt some kind of dark and terrible presence had just appeared somewhere in the world. He didn't know what it was or why he felt so terrified. After a moment, he resumed packing, only quicker.
"Something terrible has appeared," the young man thought to himself. "Akira, I have to find you quickly. In this day and age, evil never rests!"
Once he was done packing, he grabbed his suitcase and ran out of the room not even bothering to close the door behind him. He was in a hurry.