VAMPIRE, kol valerian

KOL VALERIAN

the bloody prince

RANK. E
AGE. 477
DOB. 10.31
ETHNICITY. English
OCCUPATION. Unemployed
RESIDENCE. Some victim’s Midtown apartment

His given name is Nicholas Henry Tudor, son of Queen Mary I of England and Ireland—more commonly known as “Bloody Mary” these days. Nicholas grew up in a very unstable household since his grandfather was causing quite a mess with all of the executions of his step-grandmothers followed by the chaos of the religious instability that his mother caused when executing and burning Protestants and their churches.

Growing up, he was very proud and received nearly everything he wanted when he wanted it since his mother was unable to bear more children for whatever reason and she wanted to spoil the one son that she did have. If she hadn’t, he would have taken whatever he wanted anyway. In his late teens, he was a terror to the people, using his station to take whatever he wanted and his good looks to charm women out of their corsets and into bed. He was sweet when he wanted to be—and usually only when he was getting his way—but if his royal highness was in a particularly foul mood or simply… bored, he would take it out on those around him.

As he left his teens, he grew slightly more restrained in his brazen abuse of power. He learned that manipulation and the threat of violence could be just as effective if not more so than simple school-yard bullying. He became more cunning and smarter about how he pulled the strings on his puppets. Regardless, when he said jump, the only question he would have expected to hear was “How high?” The young man was absolutely enamored by power and influence and being able to back up his threats personally if someone tried to call him out on some imagined bluff.

It was around this time that one of his mother’s new maids caught his attention. She was beautiful in a stunning and foreign way and she had grace and strength that was rare in anyone stationed lower than the aristocracy. Desire and curiosity saw him pursuing her within a week of her arrival at the castle and it didn’t take her long to succumb to him. He’d made yet another conquest—or so he thought. Much to his surprise, the woman had her own plans in mind when she capitulated to his desires and those plans manifested themselves when she pierced his flesh and consumed his blood.

Horror quickly turned to an intense intrigue. This woman—this vampire captivated him in a way that his previous conquests hadn’t. His fascination with her and her species had an almost soothing effect on the monstrous prince; he was too busy trying to figure out how to gain her strength for himself to worry about trivial mortal issues. He was aware of the supernatural and he wanted it. Even as he charmed her with his oft-buried pleasant side, he submitted himself and his veins to her desires. As selfish as his time with her was, he enjoyed it and took as much pleasure from it as she did.

After he learned more about her species, he began to work on convincing her to turn him. Nicholas was subtle at first, testing her reaction to the suggestion by framing it in jest, but soon she began to realize that he was absolutely serious about it. It took some convincing, but she eventually agreed. Even now, centuries after the fact, he still remembers how her blood tasted that first time. The night he turned is one of the more vivid memories he’s retained. Her blood tasted more gratifying than the richest and most expensive spiced wine he’d ever consumed. Like a hard liquor, he nearly choked on it at first, but as he drank, swallowing became easier and easier.

As the bond formed between them, he found himself wanting to yield to her every whim. He existed to please her. When she was happy, so was he. For the first time in his relatively brief life, he had been sated. With the two of them mutually fulfilling the other’s needs, the wicked prince found his soul soothed with each caress of her touch—mental and psychic—and because of their bond, he had eyes only for her.

Not even a century passed before she was injured in one of the petty squabbles that humans are subject to. In a panic to keep her alive and well, he stowed her body in a crypt to regenerate with the help of one of her contacts. For years, he was barely able to leave the site long enough to feed and sate his hunger. But as the time faded away, so did the Sire Bond that had so fully enraptured him. He was more free to consider the past century or so and realized how he had been little more than her slave. The person he was before the transformation began to emerge and war with the person he had become. Feelings of affection and devotion were distorted under the weight of the blind loyalty he had shown his sire. He had been used, manipulated, controlled. She had been the one guiding the puppet’s strings. He couldn’t determine which emotions were real and which had been merely synthesized by the bond. Rather than try to figure it out, he left her there and lived his own life as a vampire.

Just as with his life as a prince, he used his new speed and strength to take what he pleased whether it was blood, money, or company for the night. Sometimes he drained his victims, other times he compelled them to forget. The woman who had been the balancing force to his chaotic and restless spirit was gone and he was wreaking havoc once more.

A few centuries of his living as a nomad passed. He wandered across the globe, mostly staying in large cities where a missing person or two wouldn’t be as readily noticed. He shortened his name from Nicholas to Kol—it sounded much more badass to him than being associated with a jolly, old, fat man who foolishly gave selflessly one night of the year—and dropped his surname entirely in favor of Valerian which both sounded decent and meant “to be strong.”

It wasn’t until everyone was fretting the ridiculous Y2K scare that he settled in New York City. The night that the century turned once more, plenty of people roamed the streets not just heralding in the new year, but also in a panic that their world was about to crumble. It was a win-win situation for him. The people scurrying around like cockroaches when the light is turned on provided an all you can eat buffet of potential victims. Should their world actually crumble around them, the chaos and fear would continue and so would his feast.

A few foolish vampires challenged him for being on their territory. When he didn’t back down, he fought them into submission. The fact that they had scars or fresh wounds from previous fights hadn’t escaped him. They were each alone fighting constantly to keep hold on their own territory where they could live and feed in peace—even if the peace never actually came. Those he defeated he convinced into working with him rather than staying alone. The night that world feared all they knew would come to an end, Kol established the beginnings of a new coven, the V.

For the first time in centuries, he’d established roots somewhere. He found himself moving from one victim’s apartment to the next when moving caught his fancy. Gradually, he established followers more loyal than others and slowly strengthened his claim on his vampire confederation. His name in the city became more notorious as the time passed until he was known as a powerful gang leader among the sleepers. Those who were awake to the world knew to avoid his sector of the expansive city since his almost bi-polar mood took the forms of murderous and of tolerant with every sort of variation in between. Most people believe that he, himself, can’t determine his mood until he is reacting one way or another to those around him.

played by octane