Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? The luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds... True love.
Bram Stoker Dracula (1992)
Rain fell on him. It was cold, but he didn’t feel it. No, all he felt was a void as he looked down at the lifeless body he was holding in his arms. Soon enough, the void turned to sadness and this sadness turned to despair. Tears fell from his eyes before he let out a scream.
As the sun disappeared to be replaced by the black veil of the night, he awoke. Rising he sat in his bed for a moment before walking to the bathroom to take a shower. As he washes his red hairs he thought about his dreamless sleep. He could not even remember the last time that he had dreamed, was he still capable he wondered.
Once he was done, he went to his closet to pick out his clothes taking some time to consider each one before settling down for a burgundy suit with a white shirt and black tie. he walked out of his house feeling the night air before getting into his car and driving toward his destination.
He arrived at the Lumiose city museum who was holding a social evening for the opening of its new gallery. Once he entered, he could only smile at the various display of art and took some time to admire some of them before taking a glass of white wine and drinking a bit. It only took a moment for several people to come to him. Most of them were business people hoping to discuss and convince him to invest and women’s and men’s hoping to, maybe, get something more private. introductions and small talk followed and he answered all of them politely.
“I must say it’s rare to see you.” a man in his late fifty said “I guess that it is true that you are a night bird”
“that is correct my agenda keeps me busy most of the day so I mostly go out during nighttime.” The redhead answered.
Discussions like that continued for a while until they left for other parts of the museum. Dropping his smile, he drank the last of his wine. He was still thirsty. He continued to explore the gallery, trying to ignore his hunger and thirst. It was then that he saw her. A woman was looking at him. He quickly noticed that she was alone “Perfect.” He thought to himself.
He walked up to her. “I see that I’m not the only one that finds this an interesting piece.” He said looking at the statue near him.
“Well I must say that this statue is fascinating, but I think that you’re a more interesting piece yourself.” She said looking at him with flirtatious eyes.
“You flattered me.” Answered Lysandre with a small smile, however, all he could think was the word: pathetic.
Once again, He had encountered the type of person he hated the most. She was probably thinking that she could get him on board with some flirting and getting something out of it. He could feel a mix of anger and disgust boiling inside him. He had enough, no need to be keeping up the façade, he just wanted to get this over with.
He placed his pale blue gaze directly in her eyes. “Follow me.” He commanded. Just like if her brain had been turned off, she answered “Yes”.
He went to the indoor garden where nobody was present, and the woman followed almost like a robot. Now standing in front of her and with a last look to make sure that nobody would see, he dove and with his sharp fangs, bite into her neck.
Blood started to flow from her neck, and he drank it. It tasted good. He lost himself in the moment and drank for a long time but came back to his senses and let go of her. He took out a handkerchief and wiped the crimson liquid from his mouth while watching the two holes slowly disappearing, before vanishing completely. She was still holding on her feet but was tangling a bit. however, people could just assume that she was drunk and nothing else.
Not wanting to waste any more time now that he had what he wanted, He walked away from her and headed toward the exit. Just as he was nearing it; someone accidentally Jostled his right side.
“Excuses me,” the person said before heading out of the museum.
Lysandre didn’t even look to see who that was. He would have completely forgotten about it, but a scent made that impossible. That scent, it came from his past. He looked around to found its source, but it was long gone.
