The cold night air of Frenchmen Street, New Orleans, was filled with the jazz music of the 90s - "House of the Rising Sun" by The Animals - flowing out from the popular bar, "Blue Nile." The street was bustling with people strolling up and down, humming along to the song. It felt like the most peaceful scenery that could exist on the street.
Outside the club, a hefty guy dragged a man out by the collar, sending heavy blows to his chest. He then picked up a bottle, still containing gin, and smashed it into the man's head. "You don't mess with the gods of Orleans," he retorted, entering back into the bar.
Inside the bar, mesmerizing scenes unfolded: strippers danced half-naked to entertain filthy rich men, who gulped rich alcohol into their oversized abdomens. Gangs drank and smoked, turning the club into a smoking house. Some men engaged in gambling, while others cheated on their spouses. The Blue Nile Club House was a den of malicious acts.
The atmosphere suddenly became tense as a man dressed in black, wearing a reefer coat, 90s loafers, and a black round hat, walked straight to the bar attendant. "Put off the damn music," he said, his eyes glowing. The bar attendant immediately turned off the music. The man sat down and asked for a bottle of whiskey. He was served, and he poured himself a glass.
A man who looked like the kingpin running the bar approached him. "Give what belongs to Caesar to Caesar," he said. The kingpin tossed a penny into mid-air and caught it, smiling. He grabbed the man's collar, saying, "You sluggard, pay your tributes."
The man smiled, standing to walk away. The boss made a signal to the other gang members, and they began to pick out various weapons. One member signaled another, saying, "Sparrow calls in for red flag." Sparrow picked up a bottle to hit the man in black, but the latter was faster. He made a quick turn and delivered a straight blow to Sparrow's chest, sending him into the bar tables as glass cups fell to the ground.
The man in black smiled, snapping his fingers. A wave passed through the phonograph, and the music continued to play. He dropped his hat, revealing his curled, dirty blond hair and dark blue-green eyes that contrasted with his pearl-white skin. Claws and fangs grew from his nails and teeth.
The gang members charged towards him, but he suddenly vanished into thin air. Blood splattered on the walls of the bar as he reappeared, and one of the gang members came at him with an axe. The man's eyes glowed as knives in the hands of the dead men flew around the room, stabbing others in vital spots.
By this time, more than half of the gang members were dead. The man gave a smirk, catching another from behind and severing his arm from his body. He cracked the skull of the last gang member by smashing waves into his ears.
A man hiding under a table, his heartbeat loud, was discovered. "You must be the famous Mr. Tristan," the man said. Mr. Tristan crawled out and knelt down almost immediately. "Spare me, oh you spawn of the devil," he begged, his heart almost jumping out of his mouth.
The man walked away, leaving Mr. Tristan, who brought out a revolver. Suddenly, a coin passed through his mouth, tearing his neck and killing him instantly.
The man stood in the middle of the bar, watching the gory sight he had created. He picked up a heart and walked towards the reception, hearing a noise from the inner room. He proceeded to open the doors one by one and found a dancer lady tied up.
He sighed, "Oh dear, I have to spare you, but I will make good use of you." He held her as his eyes glowed, and the dancer lady panicked, falling unconscious. He picked a penny, immersed it halfway in blood, and threw it, sticking it to the ceiling.
He smiled, saying to himself, "This feeling is so electrifying, the fresh smell of blood." He left the bar open and vanished into thin air with the dancer still in his arms.
The next morning, the NOPD opened the door to a fresh new murder case, possibly a homicide case, at the bar. Captain Nolan, the officer in charge, walked in, saying, "Who the hell made this place an abattoir? Whatever he or she is, human or beast, we shall catch him."
The officers replied, "Yes, sir."
A man wearing a formal, black antique suit that exuded elegance and sophistication walked in, followed by a lady wearing a fascinator, an elegant, knee-length gown with a quintessentially feminine look. He said, "Lisa, compel that douchebag police officer, Nolan."
Lisa moved quickly towards Nolan, dropping her bag intentionally to catch his attention. Nolan bent to help her, and she looked straight into his eyes. "We are detectives brought in by you to investigate the homicide," she said.
Nolan interjected, "What? No!" Lisa's eyes pierced his, intense and golden-yellow. "We are," she insisted.
Nolan answered, "Okay." Lisa walked back, nodding to the man, and both entered the bar.
He walked into the bar and gave an order: "Move out of the bar." The officers walked out as Lisa approached him. "What was that all about?" she asked.
The man in the suit replied, "Who did you think did this?" Lisa answered, "I can't answer that."
The man said, "Lisa, the scent of a vampire has been left here. It's strong, indicating a very old vampire, like you and I." He pointed to a man lying dead on the wall, with puncture wounds on his neck. "That should prove something to you."
Lisa looked up, saw the coin in the ceiling, and said, "He was here." The man replied, "Aleksander."
Lisa said, "Ethan, you would really make a good detective." Ethan smiled. "Don't give me praise, Lisa. When did you last meet Aleksander?"
Lisa replied, "We should be talking about family issues now, together with the witches, werewolves, and vampires. We drove him out of New Orleans for no reason centuries ago."
Ethan said, "Let's get back to the Count's Mansion. There, we'll find him." Ethan walked towards Officer Nolan. "You can give us a call the next time you need us." He handed Nolan a card and continued, "You want to catch the killer behind this, but you're only working towards catching a human. You should be working towards catching a beast."
Lisa called out as Ethan walked away. He brought out a small red bottle, sprayed himself, and vanished into thin air.
Aleksander sat at a round table, picking up a cup and watching the afternoon sun pierce through the window. He smiled at a figure tied to the ceiling with a thin wire – the dancer lady. He stood up, tore her skin, and drank her blood from a cup.
As the lady gasped, "Help," Aleksander looked at her and snapped the thin wire. He carried her, sat her down, and said, "You poor sod." He slashed his wrist, and his blood poured into her wound, healing her instantly.
He picked up a glass of water and gave it to her. "Young lady, what's your name?" he asked. She coughed, gave a shoulder shrug, and showed reluctance in opening her mouth.
Aleksander smiled, growing his claws. "Speak up, and I'll spare you." She answered, "Maybe you shouldn't spare me, after you ended my career."
Aleksander replied, "You call this a career? Pathetic human." The lady said, "I'm not pathetic. It's my only way to get a living. My name is Lydia Jameson."
Aleksander said, "You mean you spent your whole life walking as a slut, sleeping with those rich men of New Orleans?" Lydia replied, "You aren't any better than those men."
Aleksander said, "Shut the hell up." Lydia tried to retort, but the piercing glow of Aleksander's eyes made her sit quietly.
A large mansion stood tall among the buildings of New Orleans – the Count's Mansion. Ethan stood at the last stair, calling out, "Caleb."
A young man entered the room with a dire smile. "What is it you want again?" Caleb asked.
Lisa, hanging upside down from the ceiling, said, "What do you think of a proper family reunion? A prodigal son is back."
Caleb replied, "Centuries after, that snitch is back." Ethan said, "Prepare. We're going to finish what we started. Aleksander isn't a force to be reckoned with."
In a dark alley, a pregnant woman walked alone. She was weak, shown by her short strides. Her bag fell to the ground, and she bent to pick it up. Suddenly, there was a clean cut to her throat, and she fell to the ground.
The woman was seen hanging from a pole, tied up, with blade marks around her wrists, ankles, forehead, neck, and elbows. A coin, partly covered in blood, was seen directly below where she hung.