Dracula: The Thirst for Blood

EP 5 : Gift of Immortality

Point of View: Ferdinand

The dawn's first light filtered through the heavy drapes of my study, casting long shadows on the polished mahogany floor. I sat at my desk, surrounded by ledgers, correspondence, and documents that demanded my attention. My role as Count required diligence, and the responsibilities of overseeing my estate and dealings were many. Yet, even amidst the monotony of my duties, a dark craving simmered beneath the surface.

"Don Federico, I trust the shipment of goods from Manila has arrived on schedule?" I inquired, my voice steady and authoritative as I reviewed the report before me.

"Yes, Count Ferdinand. Everything is in order," Don Federico replied, his tone respectful yet nervous. He was acutely aware of my swift rise to power and the rumors surrounding my recent recovery.

"Excellent. Ensure that our traders are compensated fairly. We cannot afford discontent among our partners," I instructed, my eyes scanning the neatly penned letters on my desk.

As the day wore on, my fingers began to twitch, an involuntary spasm that signaled the growing hunger within me. My throat itched, a persistent reminder of my need. I tried to focus on the numbers and words, but the allure of blood was an ever-present distraction.

"Count Ferdinand, here are the documents for the new land acquisitions," another aide announced, placing a stack of papers before me.

"Thank you," I responded, forcing a smile. "I will review them shortly."

The aide nodded and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Alone once more, I leaned back in my chair, attempting to regain control. My fingers drummed against the desk, a restless rhythm that echoed my inner turmoil.

Kailangan kong magpakatatag, I told myself. Ngunit ang uhaw... ang uhaw ay hindi ko mapigilan.

I stood abruptly, pushing the chair back with enough force to make it scrape against the floor. Pacing the room, I tried to distract myself with thoughts of estate management, of the upcoming social events, and of the political maneuverings that occupied the minds of my peers. Yet, none of these could quell the insistent desire that gnawed at me.

A knock on the door interrupted my restless pacing. "Count Ferdinand, may I come in?" It was Don Federico again, his voice hesitant.

"Come in," I said, my voice strained.

He entered, holding a letter. "This just arrived for you, sir. It's from Governor-General Blanco."

I took the letter, breaking the seal with a practiced hand. As I read the contents, my mind drifted, the words blurring into meaningless shapes. The governor's concerns about uprisings and trade routes seemed distant, overshadowed by the burning need within me.

"Thank you, Don Federico. That will be all for now," I dismissed him curtly.

Once he left, I let the letter fall from my hands, my attention no longer on the affairs of the estate. The hunger was all-consuming, an insidious force that threatened to overwhelm me. My throat burned, a searing pain that only one thing could soothe.

With a growl of frustration, I flung open the study's door and strode down the hall. The servants scattered at my approach, sensing the danger that radiated from me. I made my way to the cellar, where a fresh supply of blood awaited, but even the thought of bottled blood did little to ease the ache.

Opening the cellar door, I descended into the cool, dark space, my footsteps echoing against the stone walls. I seized a bottle, yanking out the cork and drinking deeply. The blood was warm, its metallic taste familiar, but it was not enough. It could never be enough.