7 PM
The sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, leaving only the crimson glow of dusk to bleed across the sky. Shadows stretched over the broken city, long and silent, like specters mourning the dead.
Drake Diabolos sat motionless before the graves he had dug with his own hands. The earth was still fresh, the scent of blood and ash thick in the air. His robe fluttered gently in the breeze, but he didn't move. His eyes—dry and burning—remained fixed on the tombstones as if they might suddenly come alive and speak to him.
Tears lined his cheeks, but his heart was filled with fire. Rage and sorrow twisted within him like a storm. He clenched his fists, nails biting into his skin.
Then, a sudden thought struck him—his father. He wasn't here when the attack happened…
His father had been out of the city that day. Drake's eyes widened. He must be alive… he has to be!
But then came the darker questions—Where is he? Why hasn't he returned? Why haven't reinforcements come from the other vampire cities? Where are the search teams, the scouts, the soldiers?
The realization hit him like a dagger: This was war. A coordinated, merciless war. The humans hadn't just attacked his city… they were attacking every city. "Are the other vampire cities also rubble now?" The thought chilled him to his core.
He shut his eyes, trying to remember his mother's final words—spoken in blood, barely audible.
"North… head toward the north. The City of Immortal Kings…"
Was that where his father had gone?
Was she trying to tell him where to run?
Was the hidden city real… or just a myth?
He didn't have answers. All he had was painand a direction. But still, how could he travel alone? He didn't know the exact location.
And the world was now hostile… a graveyard for his kind. He sat back down on the cold ground, tormented by grief and uncertainty. But just as despair tried to drag him under, another thought flashed through his mind:
"Maybe… I'm not the only one who survived."
The possibility gave him hope. Just a flicker—but enough to stand again.
Without another word, Drake rose to his feet and tightened the cloak around himself. He sprinted toward the heart of the city—the ruins of what had once been a thriving vampire metropolis.
Building by building, he began searching. Cautiously. Quietly. He scoured shattered homes, markets reduced to rubble, collapsed hotels, burned-down schools, ruined playgrounds, even the infamous blood clubs where vampires once celebrated the moonlit nights.
Nothing.
No movement. No voices. No heartbeats but his own. But as he stepped out of what remained of a shopping mall, he froze.
In the distance, across a blood-streaked road littered with bodies, stood a boy
A child.
Pale skin. Silver hair. Red eyes filled with unspeakable grief.
The boy was standing utterly still, staring at the mangled corpses on the ground in front of him. His hands trembled, but he did not cry. His face was frozen in shock.
Drake's heart stopped. He recognized the look—it was the face of someone who had lost everything. He ran toward the boy. "Hey! Kid! Are you alright? Who are you?"
No answer.
Drake slowed as he approached. The boy didn't move. He just kept staring.
And then Drake saw them—the bodies.
Cut to pieces. Torn apart. Limbs severed. Heads rolled. The boy finally turned his head slightly and whispered, his voice hollow and broken,
"Mom… and Dad…"
Drake's breath caught in his throat. The brutality of it all hit him like a hammer. The boy's lip quivered, but he still didn't sob. It was as if his mind hadn't yet caught up with the horror in front of him.
"I… I want to cry," the boy whispered, "but my eyes… they're not listening to me."
Drake knelt down and wrapped his arms around the boy. His voice was soft, but fierce. "It's okay. I understand. But crying won't fix anything."
"I know," the boy said through gritted teeth. "But I remember the face of the one who did this. Their leader… I saw him. And I will be the one to kill him."
His voice trembled with rage. "I'll give him a death so brutal… even other vampires will feel sympathy for him." Drake placed a hand on his shoulder, his eyes burning with shared fury.
"Then we'll make them pay," he said. "Together."
10:00 PM
The night was heavy with silence. Only the wind whispered through the broken buildings, carrying with it the scent of blood, fire, and ash. Beneath the dim glow of the shattered moon, two figures stood before a pair of hastily dug graves.
Drake Diabolos had just helped the young vampire bury what remained of his parents. He watched the boy closely, silently admiring the strength it must have taken to stand after such loss.
After a long pause, Drake finally broke the silence.
"Hey… kid," he said softly. "What's your name?"
The boy looked up at him with haunted eyes.
"I'm Magnus. Magnus Renfield. I'm twelve years old."
Drake's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Renfield… so you're from that Renfield family?"
Magnus nodded quietly.
Drake stood up and brushed the dirt from his hands. "Then you're not just strong—you're important. And you're coming with me."
Magnus looked up at him, uncertain. "Where are we going?"
"We can't stay here forever," Drake said, glancing around at the dark ruins. "The humans… they could return at any moment. We need to find other survivors."
Magnus asked, "But where? The city's destroyed…"
Drake turned toward the north. "First, we'll check Celeste College. That's where I was studying before… before all this. Maybe some of the students or professors made it out alive."
Magnus nodded. "Okay. Let's go."
Half an hour later…
The two arrived at what remained of Celeste College, once a prestigious academy for young vampires. Now, its proud stone walls were cracked and blackened. The once-grand archways were broken, glass crunched beneath their boots, and the eerie silence made the air feel heavier than before.
Drake paused in front of the gates. His expression was hard, but there was a flicker of pain in his eyes.
"We'll search every building," he said. "Classrooms, dorms, the library… even the underground labs. Someone might still be hiding."
Magnus nodded again. He had stopped being surprised by destruction—it was everywhere now.
They split up and began their search. Room by room, hall by hall. Classrooms were filled with bloodstained desks. Some chairs were overturned, others still had bags and notebooks resting atop them—as if their owners had simply vanished mid-lecture. The canteen was scorched, walls blackened by fire. The smell of burned flesh still lingered. The dorms were worse. Doors splintered. Hallways dark and soaked in blood. There were no screams, no survivors. Only silence and shadows.
After nearly an hour of searching, they met back at the courtyard.
"Nothing," Drake muttered, his voice grim.
"There has to be someone," Magnus said, frustration creeping in. "What if… what if they're hiding but afraid to come out?" Drake tilted his head. "You think they're watching us?"
Magnus looked up at the broken speaker tower. "What if we use the college announcement system? If we broadcast a message, they might hear us. They'll know it's safe."
Drake looked at him, impressed. "Not a bad idea. But… they might not believe we're vampires. They might think it's a trap."
Magnus grinned faintly despite the situation. "Then you stand in the courtyard while I speak. If they see a vampire standing calmly in the open, they'll know."
Drake smiled faintly for the first time in days. "Genius. Go."
Magnus took off toward the main building, heading for the speaker controls. Drake stepped into the center of the courtyard, right beneath the broken clock tower, his cloak catching in the night wind.
Minutes later, Magnus's voice echoed through the ruins. "If you can hear this… you're not alone. We are survivors. Vampires—just like you. The humans are gone. You can come out. Please… we're searching for you."
There was no answer.
Magnus tried again, his voice more desperate this time. "We won't hurt you. We're not human. Drake Diabolos is standing in the courtyard. Come see for yourself. We just want to help you!"
Silence.
The wind blew softly through the crumbling buildings. Drake scanned the windows. No movement. No sound. Just emptiness. He was about to turn back toward the speaker building when he hear
"HELP! PLEASE—SOMEONE HELP!"
A girl's voice. Sharp. Terrified. Drake's head snapped up. Magnus bolted out of the room and looked around wildly.
Another scream rang out—closer this time.
Drake took off running toward the sound, his heart pounding. Someone was alive. But someone was also in danger.
To be continued