A Vampire to Rule: Fallen Empire (UNEDITED)

CHAPTER ONE...

~"FOR CENTURIES, VAMPIRES HAVE BEEN LIVING AMONG THE HUMANS WITHOUT THEIR KNOWLEDGE. But, there is much more to this society than the humans may be able to imagine. A whole empire lies within the vampire population, and it started off very peaceful, very simple. Although, that is not the case now.

"When the Empire first formed those many of years ago, no one knew what to do, so they turned to a pureblood named Navel Hardsworth, the strongest among purebloods that there was. Hardsworth wholeheartedly stepped up on behalf of all the vampires among the population. No one would argue, nor dare to. They all knew well enough that there was no one more suited for the position other than Hardsworth, or more like no one willing to defy a pureblood.

"And this was only the start of building the Empire, and its caste system. As the Empire soon began to expand, so did the caste system: purebloods ruling, aristocrats, normal vampires, and lastly, formally human turned vampires. There is one last group of vampires, that doesn't even make the caste, and that is the underclass. This group of vampires are so vile, that they can't even contain the thirst they have for blood anyway possible, other than receiving it from a victim. Under class levels are not born under class levels, though. They are turned. This transformation can only occur from the fangs of a pureblood, piercing into the skin of a human, and not fully drinking all of their blood from their body. Once the pureblood master has done this, the victim begins to transform until the point of becoming mentally insane, the lust for blood becoming unbearable. There is only one way to stop this transformation of underclass, and that is by feeding the victim the blood of their master, allowing them to be tamed but never being freed from the bound of their master, serving them until one, or both of their deaths.

"The way of the purebloods is getting out of hand some say, now turning humans to under class like second nature. To other's, they think the reign of purebloods is going well, as well as the ruling of the royal family, the Hardsworth. To this, it may be many of more centuries before anything is solved about the empire, but until then, the topic is only lightly mentioned.

"Any questions?"

I stare blankly at my tutor standing in front of me. This is about the millionth time I've heard this lecture, why must I hear it again?

As always, Don, my older brother, must ask three million questions, holding us here even longer.

"How is it that the under class got so much more heavily populated over the years?" A groan escapes my lips, which earns me a harsh scorning.

"Don't be rude, Layla. Now, as I said before, this can be a very debatable topic. Not everyone thinks the underclass level is that big of a problem."

"But how," Don interjects. "It's obvious they have got out of hand! And the pureblood population isn't doing much about it."

"As an aristocrat myself, it is not my place to do anything about it. But s a pureblood and of nobel blood, I'd make it your priority to fix the situation if you claim it to be so bad. After all, you are going to be king in good time."

Now feeling defeated, Don gives up trying to argue this topic anymore.

"If that's all, can I leave?"

When I ask this, my tutor shoots me a deadly glare, but that doesn't scare me nearly as much as the wide grin she has on her face soon after.

"I suppose so. After all, you must get ready for tonight's ball."

Shit, I think. She's right.

With a click of my tong, I lazily get up from my chair, and leave as quickly as one can while still being lazy.

I eventually work up enough energy to teleport myself to my room, and inside are dozens of servants with what seems to be an endless amount of dresses. Literally, there is no way for me to count possibly how many there are. Each one that I can see is your basic pink laced, frilly-dilly, corset tight, poofy ass dress that all the young aristocratic women wear now-a-day.

Young aristocratic women may wear this shit, but Layla Hardsworth sure as hell doesn't.

A weary sigh escapes my mouth as my head maid almost jumps me upon seeing my presence.

"It's about time! How long were you planning on staying in that lecture for?"

"Much longer than I did actually, if only I remembered about tonight's ball," I answer back as dry as possible.

My maid sighs in disapproval at me, which I am quite used to by now.

"I wish you would not insist on making these things more difficult than they already are. Your mother, and my Mistress, has the highest expectations for you tonight."

"She should set her expectations down a notch, because I haven't ever been much to rely on," I state out flatly.

"With the way you dress, you really aren't winning any daughter of the year award." After she says this, I now take time to note my apparel: a black tank top, with a leather jacket and tight black yoga pants. All this is finished with black combat boots to finish the outfit. Not an tire for a princess, but until a law is made, I'm not changing a thing.

"Yeah, whatever," I wave off her criticism. "Let's just get to dress fitting, shall we?"

A pleasant smile now forms on my maid's face.

"Why yes, we shall."

She walks over to a group of fitters, ordering them to do something, and before me is a line of women with dresses. A long, deep sigh exits my mouth as I walk the line, eyeing every dress. Immediately, I reject all the dresses that are too pink, too big, or just want to make me fall over and cry.

"Don't you have anything not barbie doll like," I choke out. "I'm a vampire, damn it! Not the God damn Queen of England!" All the dressers laugh at my charming and hilarious outburst, but my maid's sharp glare gets them to go back to dress showing.

"What do you have in mind, Miss," my maid finally questions, but my attention is on the dress that one of the dressers bring out.

"This-" I reach out and grab the dress, "is what I'm talking about."

~"MISS, THE QUEEN IS EXPECTING YOU AT ANY MOMENT NOW!"

Quickly, I place in my last earring into my left ear and teleport to my bedroom door. When I open it, my maid is standing there, a pissed off look on her face.

"We don't have time for this," she shouts, grabbing my arm and running off with me. As we keep rushing down hallway after hallway, I finally stop to kick off my heels, then continue our desperate attempt to be on time to my mother's ball. Who knows what she'll do if I'm late for my own entrance.

As the hosts of the party, my mother always makes it her job to make a grand welcome once everyone is here, and she expects me and my brother, Don, to be ready and waiting to introduce us to everyone and welcome them, If it were up to me, I'd rather cut off my own tong than to greet a room full of stuck-up aristocrats.

But I dare not disappoint my mother.