Veiled Obsession

Prologue.

The grand chamber of the Vampire Council was a cavernous space, where the echoes of the undead whispered through the centuries. High above, the ceiling was lost in darkness, as if the night itself had seeped into the stone. Around the obsidian table, the council members, each a paragon of the vampire aristocracy, sat in silent judgment, their eyes like embers in the gloom.

Slamen stood at the head of the table, his presence commanding the attention of all. "We have been shadows in the world of humans for too long," he hissed, his voice a serrated blade. "It is time we remind them of their place—at our feet, or better yet, in their graves."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the council. Lady Vespertine, as ancient as the cobblestones of the city, spoke next. "The humans multiply like vermin, and their light pollutes our darkness. We must act, and swiftly."

Lord Mortifere, ever the strategist, raised a hand. "We must be cunning. The humans have grown bold, their weapons more deadly. A frontal assault would be folly."

Slamen sneered. "Cunning has its place, but fear is a sharper tool. Let us strike at their hearts, sow terror in their ranks. Once they fear the night, they will cower from it."

The council nodded, the weight of centuries of hatred and hunger etched into their faces. They were united in their disdain for humanity, and under Slamen's ruthless leadership, they would orchestrate a symphony of horror that would echo through the ages.

The Vampire Council reveled in the thought of humanity's end. It was not just a mission; it was their deepest desire, a cause for celebration. Slamen stood before them, his voice resonant with the thrill of impending victory.

"Brethren, our time is now," he proclaimed, a twisted smile playing upon his lips. "The humans, with their fragile lives and trivial pursuits, have long overstayed their welcome."

The council members exchanged glances, their eyes alight with glee. Lady Vespertine clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, what a glorious night it will be! The air filled with their despair, the streets running red with their blood."

The council erupted in cheers, the sound thunderous in the ancient chamber. They were united, not just by their nature, but by the joy of their shared purpose.

With a deliberate motion, Slamen rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing arms that had wrought untold destruction. The simple act was a signal, a prelude to the carnage that would soon unfold.

"Let us begin," he said, his voice a low growl that resonated with the promise of an endless night. The council members rose from their seats, a unified front of darkness against the light. With Slamen leading them, they would usher in an age where the sun would never rise again, and the night would be eternal.

Humans will no longer exist. Well, all expect one.