Drake, Modern Day (Images)

The crypt was dark and lonely, the cold slab pressing against Drake’s naked back. The silk of cobwebs a blanket to him. His piercing red eyes shot open as he pushed forward. The heavy stone slab giving to his vampiric strength as if it were made of nothing. The slab shattered against the floor as he arose, as if weightless.

He looked around the empty tomb he had laid to slumber in countless nights ago. His raven hair disheveled and the beast inside him urging for the cardinal delight he so longed for. He crept from his resting place up a flight of stone steps. He opened a heavy wooden door as light began to flood through the cracks. He hissed, but he could see this light did not burn. The light of a candle or camp fire he thought, but when he opened the door fully he was met with an alien landscape.

The graves before him were familiar but before him was a landscape with twinkling lights. And street lanterns that burned brighter than a raging fire. He looked down at his rippling naked form, he needed to get the lay of the land and fresh blood to sate his thirst. The blood would help him learn, as when a vampire feeds he can take in a person’s memories and more importantly learn how they speak in this time.