The Vampire: Alucard

Most were asleep.

Yet for the vampire, Alucard, the night was young. Those which had not found their slumber were meandering aimlessly about the streets. Most were too drunk to care about where their next step might take them. These were the foolish that were easy prey, boring prey.

Although very few actions could kill a vampire, the one eternal torment, the one mainstay, was boredom. Attempting to interact with the living, while being undead, was not an easy feat. After 350 years, each night proved to be as challenging as the last. Most of the time Alucard didn’t bother with human interaction. It was simply not worth the effort. However, it’s not the effort that gets one tired, as a vampire does not feel fatigue nor seek the warmth of a bed.

After being reborn, yet dead, for over three centuries, the vampire became weary of dealing with the obliviousness of the living. Thus, he resigned himself to silent ambushes in the shadows. Rarely would he kill, as that would create unnecessary inspection. Rather, he would make it look like a violent robbery, even going as far as taking their possessions. Although he had no need for material things, he used their offerings to keep his estate in order. A clean estate removes whispers of gossip within the city and Alucard was not one who needed the attention of men.

When he did decide to interact, most of the wretched folk were either drunks, drug addicts, or prostitutes, usually in that order. There was not much depth, in conversation, which he could enjoy from these encounters. Those under the influences of herbal or liquid substances had loose lips… and that was one thing that intrigued Alucard. This was how he remained relevant. This was how he retained the upper hand when it came to the ongoings within the city.

One gift carried over from his ‘true-life’ was his charisma. He could charm the most stubborn of hearts and gain a smile from the unhappiest of souls. For all that Alucard could do for others – no one could do for him. He had nearly forgotten what happiness felt like. Drinking the lifeblood, of the living, was not happiness. It was necessity. The pain of vampiric thirst could be equaled to that of being burned alive, repeatedly, a never-ending torment that was briefly interrupted by drinking. Thirst was not an option.

Alucard was a paradox in many ways. He was alive, yet dead. He could lift spirits, yet he had no spirit. Whatever spirit he once had, left him long ago. His youth and future were stolen by another without his consent. That was the way of the vampire – no rules. Near limitless power…if he stayed out of sunlight.