London, 1663.
In the darkness of the night, a pastor's son decided to honor his father by finding evil creatures in the poor streets of London. Carlisle, armed with his bravery and his faith, feared nothing. It was his biggest mistake, and he understood it as soon as a vampire, looking like a wretch, grabbed him with incomparable force. The pain he inflicted on him was endless. The fangs of Satan's creation buried in his skin, this poison passed through his limbs, the sensation of losing his life in the heart of an insignificant and gloomy alley. When Carlisle lost consciousness, the blue of his irises lost in the light of the moon as the only witness of his death, he hoped to find eternal peace with his late mother. It was not his destiny.
Three days and three nights later, Carlisle woke up without a soul, his throat burning with bloodlust, as absurd as it may seem. His transformation into a vampire was complete. He had become everything his father hated, a monster unworthy of God and condemned to hide in the shadows of the evil. His physical and intellectual abilities had increased spectacularly. His features were perfect, as if Aphrodite herself had kissed him, his treacherous skin sparkled in the sun. However, the greatest betrayal came from his pupils, whose red revealed the young man's terrible nature. He would later discover that this color could be altered by his eating habits.
According to Carlisle, this power and this beauty were only disgusting artifices used to attract the most naive mortals, so he could commit atrocious barbarity against them. Why him ? In the following weeks, Carlisle tried to kill himself, but could not really do it. That would be a sin. He would never do the same thing to a human. Never, like the reaper, would he tear out the soul of such a vulnerable being. It would be like stealing what belonged only to heaven and the Lord. It was a promise and a question of honor.