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Thank you as well.

> I wonder if it's beginning to remember now.

Yup. Definitely remembers now.

°°°°°°°

For anyone that is confused:

Idea was that unlike the other vampires that were undead, fed off blood, and slowly withered; this one found a way to feed directly on life spans and inturn gained a life span of its own (and because it has a life span that means it must be living, and not undead).

At some point it had become so efficient at feeding off the life span of humanity as a whole that the process became second nature to it, like breathing. Since it didn't have to focus on manually doing so for so long it just sorta kinda forgot it was a vampire since it's not really doing anything different from a normal person at this point.

The lady practically forced it to have to manually heal itself or die (which killed her in the process), in turn causing it to remember:

"Oh yeah, riiiight, I'm not just some random immortal guy, I'm an immortal monster that took everything from them and am still currently feeding off of them as we speak. Mmm, yeah and this family got pretty darn close to killing me some centuries ago, I should probably go deal with that family while they're still rusty from not fighting me in so long. But gotta be careful not to draw too much attention, humans have some pretty crazy tech now, don't want myself to go too public."

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After the first few attempts I began digging.

At first it was just me. I hired people from different parts of the world and waited patiently for the answers. Answers that I felt were critical to contribute to my understanding.

365 days later to the day I received a letter in the mail.

The people who were after me were my own family.

They paid every penny they could into training and hunting me.

Their pictures were sent with snipits of who they are.

One woman had blue eyes, that looked so… familiar.

As I got to the second and third picture, I realized that they had all staged their own role within my life. The woman was a grocery store cashier, around the corner from my primary property in England.

The older man with the full hair and brown eyes, was a man who daily walked his dog, (an adorably oversized black lab), up my street.

The young lady with the neat and tidy look of an accountant was a coffee shop owner, 5 blocks from my Manhattan apartment.

Why if they wanted to hunt me, would they pose to know me for this long?

Why would my family be so heartwarmingly empathetic to my daily toils if only to do something to hurt or hinder me?

I grew up in an orphanage. It got awkward when I aged out of the system still only looking to be 5 yrs old, but I found a sympathetic family to take me in.

Where was my real family then?

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I love this. I like to imagine that the first family member had mistaken the main character for someone else

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When you really think about it, cars are also propelled by explosions. We are the TORGUE of the galaxy!

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I'm glad you liked it! It took a while for this idea to come together but I'm so happy with the result <3 I don't think I've written anything this funny yet :P

aw come on, these types of prompts are cool

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I really enjoyed that. Thank you.

I loved the lore you imparted in part 2, really solidifying the conflict on the human side and lack of awareness on the vampire's side, I wonder if it's beginning to remember now. Hope you have a nice day.

Ooh, I hope you don’t mind me giving multiple prompts, I love mythology

Hades giving a presentation to a mortal about how modern depictions of the Greek gods are absolutely terrible.

Thor gets super angry when Loki spills the tea about him “marrying an ice giant”.

Charon (Greek) explaining to new souls that Hades is VERY upset during the spring and summer

Part 2?

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"Well first off. Do you see the Hindu priesthood throwing magic WMDs around today?" I asked him.

"No..."

"Second off. They self-destructed because of... to summarize... 'Brahmastra', 'Indraastra', 'Suryaastra', 'Agniyastra, Brahmashirsha Astra.

"All you did was add 'Astra' to some pagan gods' names," the technically an adult said.

"First off, Agniyastra," I declared as I closed my hands together as if to pray. And as I separated them, a lance-like arrow of Transcendent Divine Soulflame manifested in my between them, the flame prismatic like the reflection of a diamond and emanating golden light. It's radiance was almighty, yet it did not hurt our eyes.

"Agni, the Lord of Flames, the Burning One. Astra, means arrow. And this arrow," I pointed at the Transcendent Magic right in front of me.

They are wide-eyed. Good, they can sense, if barely, it's majestic strength.

"Has more power in it than the combined nuclear arsenal of America and Russia. And it is made entirely out of its namesake."

"And how many of them were thrown?" The first one to talk, Ibrahim if the others thoughts were correct, asked.

"Only 1 per 1000 Astras detonated. The rest were negated by each other. But over a thousand were successfully used. And it reset human history."

"C-c-casualities?"

"1.8 billion in Ancient India alone. Those are immediate casualities in an eighteen day war. Probably higher once you take in the nuclear winter effect."

"..."

"So... over the course of this history lesson. I realized something," I began.

Ibrahim raised his eyebrow.

"I objectively cannot justify showing you all mercy."

They remained silent.

"First off, your entire bloodline has been a menace to humanity, not just me."

"Second off, not only were you menaces. Your ancestors in particular actively decried inventors as heretics rebelling against whatever God(s)^TM your family believed in. Congratulations on killing the inventor of modern medicine fourteen times over. Well done."

"Finally, while the Catholic Church has no idea of magics actual existence, you do! And you did way worse proportionally on a per capita basis."

They were not silent. They were trying to scream. But I was not letting them.

"Add effect Reincarnation Cessation to Agniyastra."

There was some tossing, some light, and then a man floated in silence, a spear of beautiful flames in hand.

Now THIS is interesting

>The three dragons tore the knight to shreds, peeled off his armor, and devoured him. After that nice snack, the trio returned to their slumber.
>
>Poisoned bait was the easiest way to deal with dragons.

This was so horrifying that I honestly had to laugh out loud. Good one!

I got ready for work and drank my morning coffee. Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. I look through the peep hole, but no one is there. I open the door, and there is nobody in sight, just a small cardboard box on the door mat. The package has a note taped to it "To - Little Roger, From Grampa Pat."

I pick up the box and carry it to the kitchen island. Grampa Pat had been dead for two years. I started to tear up, remembing when I heard that Grampa, the one who taught me how to be a man after dad walked out, died in a tragic car accident. I take a knife from the drawer and open the box, only to find a fountain pen and a note written with a black ink pen:

"Dear Little Roger,

By the time you get this, I will be gone. You were the son I never had. I'm so sorry you had to go through all of this. I leave you my most prized possessions, my father's fountain pen.

Don't let anyone know you have this pen, and don't tell anyone you received this package. I love you, Little Man, but I don't have long to write this,

Your Grampa, Patrick"

A small doodle of a box, in front of a door, is drawn at the bottom of the page, drawn with a blue pen, with a note underneath: "As soon as it's safe."

I took the pen and a roll of paper towels. I walk over to the living room and collapse on the sofa. I dry my eyes and blow my nose. It didn't make sense. Why now? What's with this note?

I doodle a little bird on the paper towel, the first thing Grampa taught me how to draw. Just then, a song bird flies in from the kitchen and perches on the arm rest of the sofa.

"Whoa, little guy, where did you come from? Let's get you back outside."

I open the front door, and the little white bird flies over. Instead of flying out the door, it lands on my shoulder, "You're a friendly little guy, but you can't stay here." I put my index finger near its feet. It steps on, and I slowly move him out the door. "Fly away, little guy." The bird let's out a little whistle before flying off.

I go back into my living room, but curiosity rushes over me. I grap my notepad off the bookshelf. I know it's impossible, but I drew a little sketch of a $100 bill. A moment later, I look over to my couch, and a crisp $100 bill is lying there.

"No way..."

On the other side of town, two men in black suits talk with one another in a dark room.

"Jeffries, it's been two years, the Pen of Creation is lost. We have to give up at some point."

"There is no way Patrick Clyde would destroy that pen. He must have hid it somewhere."

"We've checked his home, his work, his family. We even dug up his grave, TWICE!"

"Please, just give me two more weeks. If I still can't find it, I'll give up."

"Where are you even going to look?"

"I don't know, I can check his daughter again, maybe that grandson?"

The larger of the two men, let out a heavy sigh, "Alright, alright, but this wild goose chase has put both of our careers on the line. If you still can't find anything, I'm closing the case."

"Thanks, Aaron. I have a good feeling this time."

"I don't."

Actual Sirens are more like harpies than mermaids.

The image of a mermaid siren is propaganda to get people to let their guard down around the real sirens.

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All fifteen of them laid bonded in carbon nanotube chains, utterly bound to the diamond carbon nanotube wall, suspended 400 feet above the underground floor to deter escape attempts.

Thankfully, telekinesis allowed me to fly. Giving me the luxury of staring at them in the eyes.

And yet. No answers...

"So...out of the entire extended family here, not one of you can point out the original ancestor. In fact, you do not even know why you all have been hunting me for..."

The Great Wall...

Temujin...

The Islamic Conquests...

Restitutor Orbis...

Augustus...

Alexander...

Ramses...

Khufu...

"Gobleki Tepe..."

15 sets of eyes blinked at me.

"Err. Maybe not that far..." one of them, an olive skinned male, said.

"Wait...Khufu?"

"THE PYRAMIDS ARE OUR INHERITANCE!!!" they attacked my ears in unison.

"So. What can I have done 4,700 years ago that still offends you today? You know what, I think 47 centuries of assaults and harassment and murder attempts make up for it. But!" And I gave a good pause. "You clearly disagree. So now is the chance that your ancestors would had loved to had. Scream at me." They stared back blankly. "Well now, don't be shy now of all times. Speak up."

They stared blankly.

"Let me tell you what your ancestors efforts gave me. The 'justice'."

"Ahem. 2540 BCE, the first attempt. My wife at the time, and 7th overall chronologically, died of miscarriage after the stress of seeing me get an arrow through my knee."

They shifted nervously.

"Before you ask me what I did in retaliation... nothing. A lion ate the fool three years later. I would had personally impaled him on a burning pike, but death by hungry lion is an alright second I guess."

"But before I continue this list... none of you have yet to tell me what I have done to deserve this."

One of them, a 33 year old woman by the looks of her, moved to speak.

I immediately flew over and faced her eye to eye, not four feet apart.

"Well? Speak your piece," I said as my arm outreached, offering my open right palm towards her.

"According to the legends..." She began.

"According to the legends, as in... you are uncertain if it is even true. Correct me if I am wrong."

"I, uhm."

"My apologies. How rude of me. Please continue," I responded, forcing as much pleasantries into my voice as I can.

"You apparently killed Khufu in a blood sacrifice to gain your immortality," she told me.

I blinked.

"That would be a good reason indeed. However there three major flaws to this theory," I whispered.

"First off, Khufu was mummified, so any sort of that would had made it into the historical record, as they would had noticed the ritual stabbing marks while preparing him, no matter how well I may have hid the wounds."

"Second off, may I add that I was around 6000 years old around this time? And before you say I am lying, I believe all of you know enough magic to perform Deceit Detection. Which you know, is infallible."

"And the third reason?" Another, some Slavic looking girl, asked.

She's not above twenty is she? Abit too young to risk death...

"Assuming you reason blood for blood, may I add that over the course of the past 4700 centuries, your bloodline wiped out my entire progeny. Six. Separate. Times?"

I began laughing as I cried.

"Six. Separate. Times. Hell in the most recent one four hundred years ago, you literally stabbed my infant son in his pregnant mothers' arms! Hell, and then she died in childbirth while I was too busy fighting off you zealots."

They remained silent. Some turned away.

"Now let me answer something your ancestors died asking me. How is magic exactly discovered and used? Well, you are born with it."

They blinked back.

"Well, you can circumvent this requirement by either consuming the blood of a magic user, and do this enough times you get it permanently. Albeit inferior to the person who's blood you drunk. Or, you can use genetic modification."

"So...they are not witches?"

It was my turn to blink.

"I have a question. Why is it 'witchcraft and heresy' for others to use magic, but for you and your allies it is 'miraculous and holy intervention'?" I asked.

"Well, ours is safe," some man spoke out.

"Well of course it is, your ancestors stole the knowledge from me. As proof..." and I tossed him a 10000 year old book, with its pages flipping just fast enough for him to finish reading.

"Any other counter-arguments? Anyways back to discussion. Magic, in essence, is the next step of evolution. As we gained sapient thought, eventually our ancestors gained souls, and with it, Soul Energy. Immortality. The power of reincarnation and resurrection."

"So our priesthood..."

"Singlehandedly held back humanity by..."

75,850 years came up in a screen behind me I had come down.

"Do not worry, that is nowhere close to the Catholic Church!" I jovially responded.

435,250 years

"Who would had fucking thought killing all magic capable people on sight would have ZERO repurcussions! And to think back in my day Jesus Christ would had been considered normal. At least the Brahmin weren't as stupid. If only they did not self-destruct," I explained.

"How did the Brahmin self-destruct?" some eighteen year old boy asked.