Dracula: The Thirst for Blood

EP 4: The Nobleman's Downfall

*Point of View: Ferdinand*

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale, ghostly light over the sprawling estate that I called home. The thrill of the previous night's hunt still thrummed through my veins, but my hunger was insatiable. Tonight, I would feed again.

The ball had solidified my place among the nobility, but it had also piqued their curiosity. Whispers of my miraculous recovery spread like wildfire, and my name was on everyone's lips. The fear and awe in their eyes were intoxicating, but I needed to ensure my facade remained uncracked.

Dressed in another finely tailored suit, I prepared for the night's hunt. This time, I would venture into the heart of the city, where the nobility gathered in their opulent mansions, ignorant of the predator lurking among them. I slipped out of my mansion, the night air cool against my skin, and took to the streets.

The carriage ride was short, and soon I stood before the grand mansion of Don Esteban, a powerful nobleman with vast wealth and influence. He was known for his lavish parties and his disdain for those he deemed beneath him. His arrogance made him an enticing target.

The mansion was alive with activity, the sounds of laughter and music spilling out into the night. I made my way to the entrance, where a servant announced my arrival.

"Count Ferdinand Marcos, ng Ilocos Norte," the servant's voice rang out, drawing the attention of the guests. I stepped into the grand foyer, my presence commanding the room. Eyes turned towards me, filled with curiosity and admiration. I smiled, a predator among sheep.

Don Esteban approached, a wide smile on his face. "Count Marcos! What an unexpected pleasure. I had heard you were indisposed, but it seems those rumors were greatly exaggerated."

I extended my hand, clasping his in a firm handshake. "Don Esteban, it is an honor to be here. Your parties are legendary."

He laughed, a booming sound that echoed through the room. "You flatter me, Count. Please, make yourself at home."

I nodded, my eyes scanning the room. The guests were a mix of nobility and wealthy merchants, all eager to ingratiate themselves with their host. I moved through the crowd with ease, exchanging pleasantries and charming those I encountered. But my mind was focused on my next meal.

As the night progressed, I found myself in a conversation with Don Esteban and several other noblemen. They spoke of politics and power, their words laced with ambition and greed. I listened with feigned interest, my gaze lingering on Don Esteban. His arrogance was palpable, his disdain for those around him evident.

"Tell me, Don Esteban," I said, steering the conversation to more personal matters, "how do you manage to maintain such a prosperous estate?"

He smiled, clearly pleased with the question. "It takes a keen mind and a firm hand, Count. One must be ruthless in business and never show weakness."

I nodded, my smile widening. "Indeed. Strength is a valuable trait."

As the conversation continued, I suggested a tour of the estate. Don Esteban, eager to show off his wealth, agreed readily. We made our way through the mansion, the other guests continuing their revelry, oblivious to our departure.

The tour ended in the grand library, a room filled with shelves of books and rich mahogany furniture. Don Esteban poured us each a glass of brandy, the amber liquid glinting in the light of the chandeliers.

"To power and prosperity," he toasted, raising his glass.

"To power and prosperity," I echoed, clinking my glass against his. We drank, the brandy warming my throat. But my hunger remained, a gnawing void that demanded to be filled.