My Vampire Harem Will Dominate Everything

X roamed the streets of First City. He didn't have a destination both now and in the future.

He chuckled at the fact that he was drifting through life both literally and metaphorically.

He bumped into someone on the sidewalk and turned slightly to mumble an apology. That was when his eyes caught the sign.

A big neon red sign above the door that read 'bar.' His eyebrows rose on his forehead. He could, couldn't he?

With a growing grin, he walked to the bar and pushed it open. The room fell into an uneasy silence as he entered.

He chuckled softly under his breath. Humans were mostly unaware of the supernatural but that doesn't mean they couldn't feel a twinge of something from the fifth ring vampires upwards.

That much vitality present in a vampire created an unconscious aura.

Well, he better lean into it.

He walked to the bar, his steps slow and deliberate. The occupants of the bar watched him from the corner of their eyes, continuing their whispered conversations.

X slid into a stool at the far end of the bar, his coat rustling softly as he settled in. The bartender hesitated a moment before approaching.

"What'll it be?" The bartender asked, his voice rough, as he wiped down the counter with a stained rag.

X lifted his gaze, leaning forward. "Whisky." He whispered. "Double."

The bartender nodded and poured the drink, sliding across the bar.

X took the glass, lifted it up and stared at it. Vampires could enjoy liquids but it had to be laced with blood.

He hadn't brought any blood to mix it with.

He tilted his head, brought the liquid to his lips and paused. Then, in one swift motion, downed the drink.

The liquid traced a burning path to his stomach, every part of his flesh it touched, twinging in pain. When it settled inside him, he felt a low burn as his body tried to extract the vitality in the drink and found none.

He smirked at the pain.

He'd been going through life feeling like it was a dream but the burning in his stomach grounded him.

"Another." He growled, a grin spreading across his face.

The bartender dutifully poured him another glass.

X downed it just as quick, sighing deeply as the pain in his gut grew hotter.

Yes. This was reality. He was free. He could do whatever he wanted.

He paused.

But what did he want?

"Another." X spoke.

The bartender poured and he drank.

The process repeated, glass after glass, X's hands moving as soon as the glass was filled.

The other patrons watched from a distance, their conversations hushed, wary of the man who seemed hellbent on drinking himself into oblivion.

But no matter how much he drank, his demeanor remained the same.

There was no flush to his cheeks, no slur in his speech and no sign at all that the alcohol was having any effect on him.

The bartender, growing uneasy, finally spoke up.

"You trying to drown something?" He asked, half-jokingly, though X could hear the hint of concern in his voice.

X looked at him, really looked at him, weighing whether to answer or simply vanish into the night.

But wasn't this what bartenders were for?

A friendly face to vent your sorrows and not be judged. He was free now. What was stopping him from trying it too?

"What does one do when you wake up one morning with no idea what to do with your life?" He asked, leaning forward on the bar top. "What do you do when your entire existence is bound in chains and with the chains broken, you have nothing?"

The bartender hesitated, not knowing what to say to that. He had seen people come in, trying to escape their demons, but this was different.

This man spoke like he was haunted by Lucifer himself.

The bartender poured another drink and X took it, his hands steady as ever. He downed it just as quickly as he had been doing before.

"Tell me," the bartender said, feeling a strange compulsion to continue the conversation. "Is a butterfly breaking out of its pupa a good thing or a bad thing?"

"What?" X asked.

"From what you've said, you've been given a new beginning. A chance to start afresh. A chance to become something better." The bartender nodded. "What you make of this chance depends on the value you place upon it. Is this a chance to seize and never let go of? That's up to you."

X stared at the bartender, trying to make sense of what the bartender was saying. Then, his mind went to the time he had approached Ezra as an old man and had given him nonsensical advice.

One didn't need to have much life experience to spout profound quotes.

He snorted, the sound joyless. "Thank you." He said, a finality in his tone putting an end to the conversation.

He should've known better than asking someone else.

The intense burning in his stomach was enough to remind him that even with their immortality, vampires were not designed to possess everything they wanted.

He downed his drink in one go, sighing as he fished in his pockets for some cash.

"Don't worry." A voice spoke from behind him. "I'll pay."

X grinned as Ezra slid into the stool beside him.

"What are you doing here Matten? How did you find me?" X asked.

"Like you were trying to hide." Ezra snorted. "Even a two day old newborn could've found you."

"True. Very true." X chortled. "So, what brings you to seek me out, oh humble…" He paused. "Are you humble in anything?"

"Honestly?" Ezra said. "I can't think of one right now."

"Me too." X grinned.

They sat in silence for a few seconds.

"X." Ezra spoke, his voice serious. "What do you know about the Necromancer?"

"The Necromancer?" X frowned before his eyes widened. "Why?"

"He's in town." Ezra answered. "And he's after me."

"No need to chase clues about me, Ezra Matten." A voice spoke out and Ezra turned to see the familiar cloaked figure of the Necromancer standing in the middle of the bar.

His Aura descended upon the place, halting any chance of teleportation.

"I did imply we would meet again didn't I?" He chuckled. "Bet you didn't think it'd be so soon."

"Let's dispense the pleasantries, Necromancer." Natalia said as she walked out from behind the cloaked man, her Aura descending upon the room, adding to the already present force.

"I can't wait to kill Ezra Matten."

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