Old Vampire Books Novels & Stories

My fingers tapped on the leather cover of the book. "I mean I guess that makes sense, but even after all the myths, vampires still had their fangs. How did they hide those?" Nico blinked at me, apparently, that thought never crossed his mind? "I guess they just never smiled?" He paused, snickering at his own words, "I don't know." My tapping on the cover quickened in speed as I pondered before I finally willed myself to open the book back up. "Maybe if I keep reading I'll find something that will help me regain my faith in humanity thousands and thousands of years ago," I said.

I moved my flashlight to where I saw a row of old armor lined up against the wall, there were some rusty swords and shields that I couldn't help but think that these shields had been here way before the Lycan King had even been born, there must have been used for a battle a hundred years ago or even more. There was a large desk in the corner with an antique-looking lamp on top, the bulb seemed to be lit but not on, there were strange-looking books, some with leather covers, others paper, some old, some brand new with pages that fell open and wrinkled under my fingers. There were even some books with gold writing on the cover but none of them looked like they were readable, I picked up the ne

The rest of the world could have burned down, and in here, it would still smell like old paper and ink. Perfect. I’d pulled three entire stacks of books around me, a fortress of leather bindings and worn pages: histories of werewolves, dense texts on Lycans, thin, brittle pamphlets about old bloodlines, even obscure case studies of wolfless wolves and the rare, desperate stories of those who’d somehow triggered their first shift late in life. None of it helped.

Majority of the vampires agreed and their angry yells of ‘yes’ could be heard. “Two weeks ago, I journeyed to Athens to relay the good news to the Elders, about the Blackburn being alive, but I was disappointed to know that it is no news to them because they knew all this while,” Aamon’s expression darkened now. “The Elders have been keeping things from us for too long. They can never be trusted anymore. I decided to act on my own and with Kyle, I was able to get the witch to speak yesterday. There is a sacred book written by the Fathers of the early church after the time of the witch trials. It talks about a prophecy that will bring an end to our immortality.”

“So, who do you live with then? Your mum?” “No, my mum's dead too. I live with my older brother.” I added saving him the stress of having to ask. The truth seems to be working, I just have to edit the unnecessary parts, like the fact that my brother is a vampire that is about to be crowned king of the underworld.

Countless shelves lined with weathered books and scrolls stretched into the distance, promising untold secrets and forgotten wisdom. They made their way through the labyrinthine aisles, their eyes scanning the titles and searching for any mention of Lycans or black magic. Dust danced in the rays of sunlight that filtered through stained glass windows, lending an ethereal quality to their journey. Finally, they discovered a section dedicated to ancient legends and forbidden knowledge. The books here were wrapped in worn leather, their pages delicate and yellowed with age. Rey's fingers traced the spines until they settled upon a tome titled "The Chronicles of Shadows: Unveiling the Secrets of

The walls around us seemed to close, and the dim lights flickered, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to move with a life of their own. After an eternity, the tunnel widened into a grand alcove. The car stopped, and we entered a vast, opulent underground library. The space was breathtaking, with towering bookshelves filled with ancient tomes and scrolls. In the center of this grand library stood a raised platform adorned with intricate carvings and glowing runes. Atop the platform, surrounded by an array of ritualistic artifacts, was a grand, ornate chair. Seated in this chair, exuding an aura of power and menace, was the vampire Lord Oskar Starlyn.

He took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. The room was full of dust since it hadn't been cleaned for a while now. The shelves were filled with books lined the room, and some scrolls were rolled tightly and tied with strings. Steve hasn't been here in a long time, for years now. He walked to the far end where the oldest books were kept. Most of them were written in languages only known to werewolf elders. He went through the titles until his eyes landed on one covered in red leather. The edges of the book were worn, and the title was nearly faded.

"Not much," I replied with a frown. Tyler hovered over the books. One was an ancient leather-bound volume, its pages yellowed with age and filled with hand-drawn illustrations. The text either appeared to be printed somehow, or handwritten by someone with more patience and consistency than I could ever hope to possess. It was titled A History of Lycanthropy, and it detailed some notable packs, wars and werewolf related incidents of the past.

Fair point. He pulled a thick tome from the shelf. Dust billowed up when he opened it. "Julian's old. One of the oldest vampires still walking around. Which means there are records. Accounts. Stories about him scattered through history." He set the book on a small table in the corner. "We start here. European vampire registries from the 1600s. Work our way forward." Sat down across from him. I started reading. The work was slow. Tedious. Most of the text was in languages I hadn't spoken in centuries. French. German. Latin. Tormund translated when needed. Made notes in the margins. Cross-referenced dates and names.