Theodore Valentin
Dhampir | 26 y/o | Male | 180 cm | 78 kg
0th Circle | BloodTheodore was born due to the whim and obsession of a rich noble and an old vampire. His father had once been human, and had sought immortality at any and all cost, even if it was a fascimile of it. After having had complex magic performed by hired mages, he had become what he viewed as a higher existence - a (faux) vampire. Once gaining the prolonged life he had desired, he had whittled it away as all those faced with a relative eternity do: he had sought to make it meaningful – or at least, desperately distracted himself from the creeping, ever more insistent dread that it
wasn’t. Theodore was his latest projects. The old Count Valentin hadn’t merely wanted to
create another vampire, he had wanted to
father one.
Dhampirs were a known, if rare existence. Theo happened to come into being with far more planning, intention, and resources spent behind it than most. Theodore, however, had no inkling of his origin until a few years into his life.
Because, desire for siring a child or not, a vampire was a vampire. Losing track of time was easy, and keeping that close of an eye on all the women he’d used in aid of his goals? Bothersome.
And so, Theodore was born in a small town to a local witch of respectable skill. His mother had a dubious reputation, known for her haphazard experiments and eccentricities. Her spells and potions had side effects more oft than not, for ill or good.
She’d have strange visitors once in a while, Theodore’s father having been one of them. As for Theo, he was considered weird from birth, what with his hair and eye colour. Too, he had an unusual fascination for blood, one his mother indulged. Granted, she did restrict him to animal blood, no matter how good he thought people (especially when they were bleeding) smelled.
Once or twice, his mother had hidden him away. Theodore didn’t know, not until when she
should have done so again, except she hadn’t known it. On a day like any other, he had been playing outside, when an unknown man suddenly approached him. He had red eyes, just like him. And fangs!
While Theo was busy gaping at the tall, pale man, the man in turn started at and studied him. Then, he claimed he was his mother’s friend, and that he would take him to her since he was visiting. So, the 13-year-old boy was led home, still excitable and trusting at that age. When his mother saw them, she nearly fainted. Theo had never seen her so terrified.
Ever.He wasn’t sure what was going on, but the stranger claimed that he was his father, that his mother had kept Theo from his sire. Theodore asked mother if that was true, and she confirmed it. The man – Count Valentin – gave him two choices, then. Either Theo would come with him freely, and his mother would live, or he would be taken by force, his mother killed. Theodore didn’t want his mother to die. He went willingly.
His new life had many nice things for him. His father showed him as much care as his mother had, if in a different way. Theodore had his own, very large room, a soft bed he could jump on any time, fancy new clothes, and was given almost anything he wanted. Toys, books, swords, a horse, whatever he thought of could be his.
He didn’t have any friends now – but then again, he never really had. And there was one other weird thing; his father didn’t want him to eat human food. He said only
humans, their lessers, ate that, and that they, as higher beings, could subsist only on blood. Theo liked blood, don’t get him wrong, but he did wish he could eat different things. However, he didn’t dare accept any gifts from well-meaning servants, or complain to his father. When things didn’t get his way, the count could get very, very mean. His father’s rare outburst aside, Theo thought he had a good life with him. The other people living with the count?
Well…many of them had drawn the short straw in life. Some were enslaved, blackmailed, or enthralled by his father.
The rest were either well paid enough, or otherwise affiliated with the count. A few were vampires themselves.
It was a decent life, and despite his father’s peculiarities, it became the new normal for Theodore. Well, as normal as it got being raised as the heir to a noble vampire.
Things became more…bizzare after Theodore reached adulthood. Once in a while, he would have these vivid dreams that he never could quite recall after waking up. He knew they were rather violent, and involved spilling blood, but that was about it. Theo wasn’t sure if they were nightmares, premonitions, or his father’s ‘vampires must hold dominion over man’ ideas finally taking hold.
But that wasn’t all. The count became eerily possessive, oddly fixated on his son. Theo had his suspicions, but he never could have guessed the truth. It was his quarter-of-a-century celebration when it all came to a head. The count wanted to perform a ritual to take over his son’s body – to gain a more perfect, younger form, or some such nonsense. Theodore figured his old man had succumbed to insanity.
But who was he to talk? He was at his most murderous that day, and his urge became uncontrollable; rather, he didn’t care to control it once he learned of his father’s plot. He killed his father – drained him dry, and enjoyed every second of it. Beheaded him, and staked him, and laughed throughout. Theodore didn’t stop there, didn’t stop until almost everyone in that household was dead.
It was freeing. Thrilling. Utterly
divine.
And it was only the start.
The next stop? Oratorio.
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