Nosferatu the Requiem - Prologue

Prologue: The Matriarch's Throne

They call me Prince. Funny, isn't it? Especially now, here in Aethelgard, Indiana, the City of Shadows, where they're starting to whisper 'Matriarch' in the dark. It's not lost on me, the joke. Prince. Matriarch. Just titles, like masks, hiding more than they show. And yet, here I am, on this rough throne of scrap metal and shadow, proof of how much it costs to climb. It looks easy, doesn't it? A crown won, a city taken. But easy is a lie, a trick for those who haven't walked where I have. This... this is my story. How I got here, in blood and shadow, in a city where the dead rule the night.

Before the fangs, before the endless hunger and the cold of being dead, I was Sarah Moore. A name that sounds like a ghost now. I was driven, burning with a fire hotter than any sun. An activist. Not some soft voice talking about saving the world, but a fighter. Animals weren't just creatures to me, they were hurt, their silent screams a constant ache inside.

'The Earth's Vengeance' was my life, my family. We were the ones who went too far, who showed the ugly things hidden behind pretty lies. We broke into labs, messed with their machines, and showed the cruelty they kept hidden. We were a pain for the powerful, a voice for those who had none.

We were also fools.

The raid on Chronos Labs was supposed to be a win, a hit against their evil work. The info we got, so perfect, so damning, felt like a gift. But it was poison, a trap set by someone we couldn't see. I remember the mess, the sudden attack, the cold way they took us down. We were outgunned, outsmarted. I remember the pain, the tearing, the dark that tried to swallow me.

And then, there was Silas.

He found me, broken and left to die in their cold lab. He saw something in me, the same anger he had. He didn't offer comfort, or pity. He offered a choice, a way to be more, to get revenge. He talked about power, about being more than human, about becoming a force that could change everything.

He took me from the edge, pulled me into the dark world of the Kindred. The change itself wasn't kind. It was hard, painful. My body twisted, changed by the old curse, the thirst for blood always there. The mouth on my stomach, a sick joke, a reminder of what I'd become. The smell of damp earth, the cold on my skin, the wrongness of my form – that was my new life.

He gave me undeath, a twisted version of the life I lost. He gave me power, to control shadows, to change flesh. He gave me a reason, a weapon against those who ruined me.

And now, here I am, Prince, or Matriarch, of Aethelgard. My story is just starting.