Eastern Blood Valleys Estate - 6:42 PMThe sun had barely dipped below the horizon when the first movements began in Count Dominic Ashcroft's sleeping chamber. Unlike the harsh fluorescent awakening of the farm's captives, darkness enveloped the Count's quarters—a carefully maintained 62°F sanctuary buried deep within his estate, protected by multiple reinforced doors with biometric locks and a dedicated security team.

  Morris, the head of household, personally supervised the evening preparations. Human attendants moved with practiced precision, each understanding that mistakes in the Count's awakening ritual could cost them their privileged positions—or worse, a reassignment to the general blood farm popution.

  "Temperature verification complete," announced the climate control specialist, a thin man whose technical knowledge had earned him marginally better treatment than standard resources. "Holding at 62 degrees."

  Morris nodded, checking his antique pocket watch—another affectation the Count maintained despite the digital systems humming unseen throughout the estate. "Prepare the morning selection. The Count rises in seven minutes."

  The blood sommelier moved forward, a serious-faced woman who had survived three years in her position—a remarkable achievement considering the Count's exacting standards. She carried a silver tray bearing three crystal goblets, each containing blood from different donors, warmed precisely to 98.6°F. Her hands trembled slightly as she arranged them on the bedside table.

  "Sources?" Morris inquired, inspecting the presentation.

  "Premium female, AB-negative, nineteen years old, primarily fruit diet," she replied, gesturing to the first goblet. "Premium male, B-positive with the Duffy antigen, twenty-four years old, grass-fed meat protein diet. And the special reserve from st week's acquisition—female, O-negative with elevated endorphin markers."

  Morris assessed the selection with a critical eye before nodding approval. The room fell silent as attendants took their positions, faces carefully composed into expressions of eager servitude despite the hollow fear in their eyes.

  Blood Farm Processing Center - 6:42 PMThe processing center's evening shift began with a piercing arm that jolted captives from their brief rest period. Fluorescent lights snapped on at full intensity, flooding the sterile dormitory with harsh illumination that left no shadows for privacy or comfort.

  Maya strode through the rows of sleep pods, clipboard in hand. "Evening extraction rotation beginning in five minutes! Resources 4100 through 4225 report to Station A! Resources 4226 through 4350 report to Station B!"

  In her sleep pod, Sera blinked against the sudden light, the metallic taste of fear rising in her throat. This would be her first evening extraction since the b testing earlier that day. Her heart rate quickened as she processed what the announcement meant. The nervous gnces staff directed her way suggested everyone knew something had changed.

  Nothing quite like being the trending topic among people who view you as a walking juice box.

  She joined the shuffling line of gray-uniformed captives moving toward Station A. Unlike the Count's awakening, there would be no individual attention here—just efficiency and volume. The line advanced mechanically, each person's barcode scanned before they were seated in extraction chairs arranged in rows like a grotesque parody of a salon.

  "Hands on armrests, palms up," barked a technician in a white coat as Sera took her assigned seat. "First-time evening extraction?"

  "Yes," Sera replied, keeping her voice appropriately meek.

  The technician barely looked at her as he strapped her arms down. "Evening extraction maintains optimal blood quality. Recovery supplement will be provided after completion."

  Around her, dozens of humans sat in identical chairs, faces vacant as needles were inserted into their veins with assembly-line precision. No crystal goblets, no temperature control specialists—just pstic collection bags hanging from metal stands, gradually filling with red.

  Eastern Blood Valleys Estate - 7:15 PMCount Dominic emerged from his chambers dressed in a bespoke bck suit that combined vampire aristocratic styling with subtle modern tailoring. The fabric appeared to absorb light rather than reflect it, creating the impression that he existed in his own realm of darkness even within the dimly lit corridors of his mansion.

  "The evening schedule, sir," Morris said, presenting a leather portfolio as they walked toward the Count's office.

  Dominic accepted it with barely a gnce. "Changes?"

  "Marquis Devereux has requested a communication at nine instead of eight. Administrator Wilson reports increased production at the Northern Valley facility following implementation of your new protocols. And Dr. Harding has submitted an urgent research bulletin he believes will be of particur interest."

  At the mention of Dr. Harding, Dominic paused. "Regarding?"

  "A resource with exceptional compatibility markers. The boratory has designated it for your personal review during the next inspection."

  A flicker of interest crossed the Count's face—the first genuine emotion he had dispyed since awakening. "Eborate."

  "The subject exhibits Grade A compatibility across all tested parameters. Dr. Harding suggests it may be relevant to Project Immortal."

  "Have the full report delivered to my private study," Dominic replied, his voice revealing nothing of his thoughts. "And ensure the specimen receives appropriate protocols effective immediately."

  They reached his office—a cavernous room dominated by an antique mahogany desk positioned before floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the estate grounds. Despite his vampire sensitivity to light, Dominic maintained these windows for the psychological advantage they provided during meetings—his visitors would be forced to face the discomfort of fading daylight while he remained perfectly composed with his back to the sunset.

  The first hour of his evening was dedicated to reviewing production metrics from his five blood farms. Administrator Wilson had prepared the information on digital tablets, but as always, Dominic insisted on having it transferred to leather-bound ledgers for his personal review. The Count maintained a careful bance—embracing technological efficiency in his operations while projecting an image of aristocratic traditionalism in his personal habits.

  "Northern Valley production has increased by seven percent," he noted, turning pages with manicured fingers. "Expin."

  Administrator Wilson, a nervous human who had worked his way up from processing technician, stood at attention before the desk. "The new nutritional protocols you authorized have improved donor sustainability, sir. We're seeing fewer resources reaching depletion before their productivity cycle ends."

  Dominic made a note with a fountain pen that had once belonged to a pre-outbreak business magnate. "And Southern Basin shows a two percent decrease."

  Wilson swallowed visibly. "A minor outbreak of influenza, sir. We've implemented quarantine procedures and expect recovery within seven days."

  "Ensure the affected resources receive additional protein supplementation to accelerate recovery. I want production restored by the end of the week."

  "Yes, Count Ashcroft."

  Dominic closed the ledger, signaling the end of the administrator's audience. As Wilson backed out of the office with appropriate deference, the Count's security chief entered—Viktor, a vampire of military bearing who had served Dominic since his elevation to nobility.

  "Territory security report," Viktor announced, standing at parade rest before the desk.

  "Proceed."

  "Border patrols have intercepted three unauthorized humans attempting to cross from Count Sebastian's territory. Interrogation suggests they were fleeing poor conditions at his Western Farm facility."

  Dominic's expression remained impassive, but his fingers tapped once against the polished surface of his desk—a subtle tell that Viktor recognized as interest.

  "Condition of the captives?"

  "Two have been processed into the general popution. The third had medical training and has been assigned to the Northern Valley facility's healthcare division."

  A thin smile crossed Dominic's face. "Dispatch a message to Sebastian expressing concern about his border security. Note that resources fleeing into neighboring territories reflect poorly on farm management."

  Viktor nodded, understanding the political game being pyed. Sebastian's embarrassment would weaken his position at the next territorial council, while Dominic's acquisition of a medical specialist strengthened his own operations.

  "The Marquis's communication in two hours will likely address the border situation," Viktor added. "Intelligence suggests he's displeased with Sebastian's resource management."

  "Prepare a full security assessment of our border protocols to present if requested. Emphasize our capture rate and resource integration efficiency."

  As Viktor withdrew, Dominic turned his chair to face the windows. The sun had fully set now, and darkness embraced his estate grounds. In the distance, illuminated by strategic lighting, he could see the Hunt Garden where he occasionally entertained elite guests with recreational pursuit of selected humans—an aristocratic blood sport that reinforced vampire dominance while providing the thrill of the chase.

  Blood Farm Processing Center - 7:45 PM"Recovery period," announced the extraction technician, moving down the row of chairs and removing needles with brisk efficiency. "Remain seated until your supplement is distributed."

  Sera felt the familiar light-headedness that followed blood extraction. Around her, other captives sat with vacant expressions, some slumping in their chairs as the blood loss took its toll. The technicians paid little attention to their discomfort—monitoring vitals just enough to ensure no one reached dangerous depletion levels that would impact future productivity.

  A cart rattled down the aisle, pushed by a trustee—a human who had earned marginally better treatment through compliance. He distributed small paper cups containing a thick, brown liquid.

  "Consume fully," he instructed mechanically. "Failure to complete supplement results in nutrient deficit penalties."

  Sera took the cup, examining the contents with professional detachment despite her fading strength. The supplement contained proteins, iron, and glucose designed to accelerate blood regeneration—not out of concern for human welfare, but to maintain extraction schedules. It tasted like liquid metal mixed with artificial sweetener, a combination designed for nutritional efficiency rather than patability.

  Michelin-star dining it's not. But when the alternative is colpse from anemia, suddenly it tastes like a gourmet milkshake.

  As she choked down the supplement, Sera observed Maya approaching with another staff member she hadn't seen before. They consulted a tablet, then looked directly at her. Maya's expression was unreadable, but there was something in her posture—a subtle tension that hadn't been there before.

  Maya caught her eye briefly, then looked away, continuing her conversation with the other staff member in hushed tones. Whatever they were discussing, it involved her. The looks from other technicians confirmed it—something was happening, and she was at the center of it.

  I'm getting the distinct impression I've been upgraded from "anonymous blood donor" to "person of interest." Not exactly the career advancement I was hoping for.

  Eastern Blood Valleys Estate - 9:00 PMPrecisely at nine, Count Dominic positioned himself before the communication screen in his private study. The technology was cutting-edge, but housed within an antique wooden cabinet that maintained the aristocratic aesthetic he cultivated throughout his estate.

  The screen illuminated to reveal Marquis Devereux—a vampire who had been turned during the initial outbreak and elevated through Keller's enhancement program. Despite appearing physically younger than Dominic, the Marquis outranked him in the vampire hierarchy, a fact reflected in subtle power dynamics during every interaction.

  "Count Ashcroft," the Marquis greeted, his tone carrying the practiced condescension of higher nobility. "Your monthly production reports show promising trends."

  Dominic inclined his head in acknowledgment—not quite a bow, but a gesture of appropriate respect. "The Eastern Valleys continue to demonstrate optimal resource management, my lord."

  "Indeed. Your efficiency metrics have drawn attention at Court. The Archduke has expressed particur interest in your sustainability protocols."

  The mention of Archduke attention sent a jolt of ambition through Dominic, though his expression revealed nothing. Advancement beyond Count required patronage from the highest levels of vampire nobility.

  "I am honored by the Archduke's notice," he replied carefully. "The Eastern Valleys stand ready to share our methodologies throughout the territory."

  The Marquis's smile didn't reach his eyes. "This brings me to the matter of borders. Count Sebastian's management deficiencies are becoming problematic. Three resources crossed into your territory this week."

  "An unfortunate indication of suboptimal conditions," Dominic agreed. "My security chief has prepared a full assessment of our interception protocols if you wish to review them."

  "That won't be necessary. The Archduke has proposed a solution that may interest you." The Marquis paused, studying Dominic's reaction. "Territorial expansion. The Western Basin could be reassigned to your jurisdiction, giving you authority over Sebastian's primary blood farm."

  Dominic maintained his composure despite the surge of triumph. Territorial expansion was rare, a significant elevation in status and resource control. "I would serve the Archduke's vision with appropriate diligence, my lord."

  "Naturally, such considerations depend on continued excellence in your current operations." The Marquis's expression hardened slightly. "The Court requires consistent results, Dominic. One cannot advance while allowing standards to slip."

  The use of his name without title was a subtle reminder of hierarchy—the Marquis could afford familiarity while Dominic could not. "The Eastern Valleys will continue to exceed expectations, Marquis Devereux."

  After the communication ended, Dominic remained motionless before the darkened screen. Territorial expansion would bring him one step closer to Marquis status—the possibility of elevation tantalizing after fifteen years as Count. His hand moved to a hidden panel in his desk, revealing a small refrigerated compartment containing a single crystal vial of blood.

  This was his most precious possession—blood from Dr. Keller himself, preserved from the early days of the outbreak. Keller's enhanced strain had created the vampire nobility, his specialized virus formutions producing abilities beyond those of common turned vampires. Dominic had been among the st to receive enhancement before Keller's capture, giving him advantages that had enabled his rise to Count.

  But full elevation to Marquis required more than efficient blood farm management. It required the Archduke's personal attention—something increasingly difficult to obtain in the established hierarchy. Perhaps this mysterious resource with exceptional compatibility markers could provide leverage. Project Immortal remained the Archduke's obsession, and any contribution to that research would be noted at Court.

  Blood Farm Processing Center - 9:30 PMSera returned to her sleep pod after the extraction, her hunter instincts on high alert. The whispers among staff, the pointed looks, the hushed consultations over tablets—something was changing. She conducted a careful mental inventory of her situation, analyzing threats and identifying possible opportunities.

  The b tests earlier had clearly fgged her for special attention. Whatever they had found in her blood was significant enough to alter her status quo. But what exactly had changed remained unclear, creating a dangerous uncertainty that her training had taught her to treat as a primary threat.

  She stretched out on the uncomfortable ptform, staring at the ceiling while maintaining the appearance of exhaustion. In truth, her mind was racing, examining possible scenarios and pnning contingencies. Somewhere above this facility, in his vish estate, Count Dominic Ashcroft was reviewing reports about her blood work, making decisions about her fate without her knowledge or consent.

  The contrast wasn't lost on her—his crystal goblets and personal blood sommelier versus the mass extraction stations with their pstic bags; his antique desk and leather-bound ledgers versus her barcoded existence. Two worlds within the same system, separated by an unbridgeable gap of power and privilege.

  From anonymous to infamous in one week ft. If I survive this, I'm demanding serious hazard pay. And a really long vacation.

  As lights-out was announced and the dormitory plunged into darkness, Sera allowed herself a grim smile. She had infiltrated vampire facilities before, gathered intelligence, and extracted targets—always from the position of hunter rather than prey. Now, she would need to adapt her training to a scenario no instructor had ever covered: how to survive when you've become the target of a vampire noble's personal interest.

  The metal ptform beneath her wasn't comfortable, but it offered one advantage over the Count's luxurious sleeping arrangements—at least she didn't have to fear what the next night would bring. The Count's life was predictable, controlled, and carefully maintained. Hers had suddenly become anything but.