He was, from the first time he was looked upon, simply stunning.
Whomever gazed upon his ethereal beauty had their breath stolen from them.
Lusted after, by both men and women, he had no shortage of admirers.
Yet he turned them all down, for he was insistant upon his status as a bachelor.
This of course, only caused the public to all the more insistant upon gaining his favour.
He had a stunningly simple secret to his handsomeness:
He was one of the aristocracy of the night.
He was Vampire.

Indeed, all he required was drops of blood to pass his lips, and he was immortal.
His rich looks, his wealth, his fountain of knowledge, his collection of rare antiques...
All due to being of the elite of the midnight realm.
In fact, he was the last of his kind...
If only due to his slaughter of his race at his own hand.
He was now the Last Immortal, the only true deity upon Earth.
However, this also meant he was the last of his kind - truly alone...
Indeed, the Lone Baron of Sylvannia resides in his manor,
Despond as all company he may have kept have now dwindled to mere folklores
In a humans' world, where vampire are nothing more than made mockery of
From foolish accounts made by foolish humans.

The Baron remembered such a time when his people subjugated humanity,
Where they delighted to be under the beck and call of such "divinity",
While countless more pleaded to be in the private armies of each noble house,
To march upon the others in the great war of the Aristocracy.
After several centuries, many of the houses had collapsed,
With the sole surviving houses under onslaught as the people of the extinct houses
Decided that vampires were not divine but evil.
The Baron remembers that he called the last great meeting of the houses...
And slaughtered all competition, to end the bloody war.

Now, he merely gazes over the lands of his own -
Importing specially brewed wine with a dash of blood mixed in,
As is the fashion he has created.
He raises a glass to his lips,
And his ruby lips are stained with the richness of the liquid,
Before his sharp fangs slowly become stained as well.
His lips part slowly, gently,
And the Baron smiles a deadly, all-knowing yet bewitchingly handsome smile.
Before remembering the name he is known as by his people...