Chapter 1: How It All Began

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Vampires were savage creatures, ruthless and selfish. Cries from previous victims could be seen in their blood–red eyes, usually the monsters were spotted with blood on their mouth and teeth. Their fangs were unnaturally long and sharp, used to pierce through even the toughest skin on planet earth. They roamed at night, catching victims off–guard sometimes even during the day. They were animalistic, none of them seemed sane, as they focused on their blood and cared for none other than themselves, no sense of humanity residing inside them. They had absolutely no regard to other forms of life, no care if they lived or died, often leaving victims dying from blood lost.

They were the main predator of the humans.

They lived in fear of the monstrous creatures, always paranoid of what could be lurking in the dark. Children were locked inside homes until the ages of sixteen, parents too afraid to let them out. They created curfews, everyone locked up once ten o'clock fell. The people were wary of everyone—anyone could be a vampire in disguise, trying to lure you in and erase your entire existence. But then the people became comforted as Hunters came along.

The Hunters were a group of the elite. The strongest, most skilled fighters, trained to detect a vampire from a mile away. They protected the people, caught many vampires and killed them on sight upon their training, and decreasing the number of deaths resulting from feeding vampires. Their leader was Technoblade Minecraft.

Wilbur's twin.

Wilbur wasn't at all like the rest of the town nor his family—especially his brother. He never considered himself as strong or as smart, as untrusting or as willing to kill. He never thought too much about vampires, never worried too drastically—why should he? He was brown into a family of the best hunters—well, Tommy in training to become one, but sure to follow his brother's and father's footsteps. Surely, they'd protect him, they were awfully protective of him anyway, since they rejected him from entering the Hunters Academy.

He was too weak, too kind. They needed someone stoic, strong physically and mentally, one not as gullible as Wilbur appeared to be. They said he wouldn't eliminate the threats efficiently, too many would escape his grasps. He didn't care much for fighting either, not as much as his twin, and they needed someone wholeheartedly dedicated to the life of fighting and killing. They needed someone not like him.

Perhaps that made him a target. Being the weakest Minecraft family member.

Wilbur wasn't sure how it started, not really. He remembered going to buy groceries (since his rejection into the Academy, he had taken over many of the house chores, practically a housewife). He had got them, but as he began to return home, he felt the paranoia of being watched. He shrugged it off—what vampire would dare attack him with the Hunters on every corner?

Perhaps Wilbur should've been more careful. Perhaps he should've ditched right then and there, scurried off to ensure the safety of the Hunters. Perhaps he shouldn't have assume those damn Hunters weren't slacking off and getting drunk on the job.

Because now he was paying the price.

"Fuck!" Wilbur yelled as he stumbled, quickly grabbing onto something to regain balance as he continued running. His heart was racing, fear spiking, lungs stabbing in pain as they desperately grabbed at the bits of oxygen they could grab, his legs begging to stop but body forcing him onward.

He was about to become a vampire's next meal.

He knew the vampire was toying with him. He was prey already caught, but still trying to desperately survive. The damned creature kept cutting him off certain passageways sure to lead him to civilization, to his family, before finally cornering him.

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