Vampire Sans Novels & Stories

Her father. Cameron Allistar White had been a soldier in the American Civil War when he was mortally wounded and left for dead. A nomadic vampire, searching for an easy meal, had begun to drain him—only to be interrupted by a clean-up crew retrieving fallen soldiers. The vampire fled before he could finish, leaving behind a man who was neither dead nor fully human. His heart still beating when the venom flooded his veins.

I close the door, lean back against it, my body trembling, breath coming shallow and fast as dread blooms deep in my chest. I heard every word. My hands shake as I rush to my bedside drawer, fingers fumbling for Betty’s phone. One word echoes relentlessly in my mind as I type it into the search bar. Sanguinari. The result appears almost immediately. And as I read, all the blood drains from my face. Because, there stark and unforgiving on the screen, I understand at last. Alexander Matesson is a vampire.

After a few minutes more the candle lights came on again while the owls returned. I waited to watch in alert and zero seconds. The new vampires stood up in their immortal forms, all in a separate species from the other. They were all physically different. The first one looked very similar to the joker, only this one had fangs, longer nails, a deadly face that made him look like an angry bat, short, red-skinned, and a very huge head. I quickly recognized that one to be the night prowler. He was of the Yara-ma-yha-who breed. An ancient breed common in Japan.

He released her neck and ran his long fingernail along her cheek. “But the plan worked pretty well, nonetheless.” “What do you want from me?” Syanna cried. “I have done nothing to you people.” “People?” He threw his head back with a laugh before meeting her eyes again. “I’m no person, Tarrio. I’m a Vechi vampire, and we finally have you.” For the umpteenth time today, tears rolled down Syanna’s cheek as she struggled against his iron grip. “What will you do to me?” she asked.

Xavier's pov: My name is Xavier Fernandes, A full-blooded vampire from the Dracula lineage and the head vampire of my clan. Vampires, they said, cannot walk during the day, because we react to the sun, but due to the nature of my blood which my people call the Golden Blood, I can walk around during the day and more perfectly at nightfall

Its body crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Zane moved like a whirlwind, his blade cutting through the air in a deadly arc. His weapon sliced through two vampires in one swift motion, severing limbs and heads with precision. The creatures shrieked as their bodies collapsed, their flesh turning to ash before they could even hit the ground. The wind carried the dust away, but their eerie, glowing eyes still haunted the battlefield as more vampires stepped forward, their hunger unrelenting.

Despite not choosing to be a pure-blooded vampire, I was born that way. My mother, who was a human hunter and fighter, caught the attention of a pure-blood vampire a hundred years ago due to her strength. However, since she was a human three generations before me, she has already passed away, leaving behind cells that carry a hereditary trait. These cells determine if a pure-blood vampire is born and cause my father excruciating pain, as if he were giving birth. Additionally, they manifest as tattoos on my body, initially appearing faint but becoming more prominent as I age. This is why I can walk during the day despite the intense sunlight. In contrast, servant vampires, who are only bitten

Vic answered the system. "Sure! Vic!!" "Okay. I'm Sternly Vic." "Just who am I and who the hell are you!"

something. '...He didn’t even say anything,' Selena muttered, her voice a thread of frustration laced with confusion. Linda glanced up, brow furrowing. 'Who, dear?' Selena paused, jaw tightening as memories flooded unbidden: a figure materializing from the throng like smoke given form, red eyes gleaming with predatory intensity amid the chaos, then vanishing without trace. Lucien. The vampire's presence had been a blade's edge—silent, lethal, gone before she could question it. She shook her head, turning from the window. '...No one. Forget it.'

He looked at himself in the rearview mirror and flipped his hair. “Do you have a name?” His icy voice asked from the back and I turned in my seat to look at him. “Saratan…Saratan Credi.” “Saratan,” he tested the name on his tongue and frowned as though he found it wanting, “If you had been auctioned off, let me tell you what will become of you. If you are lucky, you’ll die in the hands of your first buyer and end your misery early. If not, you’ll be used and sold again, passed on to countless more vampires until you are old and worthless. Once you are of no use to anyone and your blood is flavorless, they wouldn’t hesitate to leave you in a dumpster out to die. Feeders corp. might act like