Alucard

He could have the world... but he only wanted her. The most feared vampire bowed his heart before a woman. She was not a chosen one. She was the only one his soul decided to love for eternity.” I am a natural-born vampire. At least, that is the only thing I have ever known with absolute certainty. My mother's name was Lilith. She bequeathed this lineage to me... and then she disappeared. Beyond her name, I do not know who she truly was. I do not know her story, her motives, or if she ever thought of returning for me. The last time I saw her, I was barely six years old. It was as if she had devoted those brief years to teaching me how to survive, only to vanish from the world leaving no trace but an ever-fading memory. For centuries, I tried to understand who she was... and who I was. There is no other case like mine. The natural-born vampires I have encountered over more than a millennium were not born what they are. They were all turned. None share my origin. That led me to a question that haunted me for centuries. Why did my body age like a human's? I grew older just like any mortal. Year after year, I watched my reflection change until I reached the age of twenty-four. Only then, when I drank blood for the first time—the blood willingly offered by the first human I ever came to admire—did my time stop. Since that moment, I have not aged another day. I have lived for nearly two thousand years; it won't be long before I reach that two-millennium mark. I have seen empires rise and fall, religions born, kings die, and nations built upon the ruins of others. I have tirelessly searched for any clue about my mother or about someone like me, but I never found an answer. I only found stories. Myths. Lies. Humans have always needed monsters to blame for their own darkness. Ironically. After observing them for so many centuries, I can assert that most of them are far worse than the demons they so fear. Wars, betrayals, greed, cruelty... they are capable of committing the greatest atrocities for ambitions so fleeting that they barely last a generation. And yet... I find them fascinating. From time to time, someone is born capable of defying all logic, someone whose existence makes an entire century seem less boring. They are few. Too few. But they exist. Perhaps it is for them that I am still here. As time passed, I understood that talent would never be enough. I wanted to understand the world before dominating it. I learned strategy to anticipate my enemies' moves. Administration to comprehend how power is born. Politics to discover how it moves. Diplomacy to learn how to conceal it. History to avoid repeating the mistakes of those who perished believing themselves immortal. Medicine and the study of the mind, because a perfect body is useless when the soul is shattered. My nature pushed me toward madness, destruction, and bloodlust. I refused to become a slave to those instincts. Yielding was too easy... too mediocre. I always preferred control. There is something deeply fascinating in knowing you can do everything... and choosing not to. But books have a limit. A time came when they stopped teaching me anything new. Then I learned to fight. Because even the best plans fail. Hands tremble. People change. And control... can always be broken. Over the centuries, I turned my body into a weapon. I master virtually any type of weapon with impeccable precision, though my true weakness has always been dual-wielding fencing. Scythes strike me as incomparably elegant; the bow, especially on horseback, demands a harmony difficult to match. Hand-to-hand combat eventually became another language for me. Judo. Aikido. Jiu-jitsu. Hapkido. Tai chi. Etc. I do not fight because I enjoy killing. I fight because I decided I would never be a victim again. I still remember the man who changed my existence. I was hunted by those who called me an abomination. They left me gravely wounded. He could have fled... but he chose to stay. He offered me his blood willingly to heal my mortal wounds. He never wanted to become a creature like me. He only asked one thing of me before he died. That I end his suffering. He was the first human I ever admired. And the only one whose death still weighs on my conscience after more than a thousand years. Now... I find myself in present-day England. I am investigating the appearance of beings that seek to imitate my species. The first time I saw those so-called artificial vampires, they seemed like an insult to me. A grotesque imitation of something they would never understand. Yet... The idea behind their creation sparked my curiosity. Who would be capable of attempting to manufacture a vampire? While searching for answers, I ended up infiltrating an organization whose goals aligned with mine. I thought it would be just another investigation. Another century. Another mission to fill an eternity that seemed endless. Then I saw him. It couldn't be him. The dates didn't match. Nearly two millennia separated our lives. But after so many centuries, I had learned that reincarnations exist. I recognized him before I even understood why. It wasn't his face. It was something far deeper. Yet... His scent no longer belonged to that of a human being.

Updated September 23, 2026