The sun shone brightly in the cloudless sky. A slight breeze blew the dust of the abandoned modern city. Swirling dried leaves around broken down cars and empty streets. Traffic lights flashed yellow cautioning the non-existent traffic to go slow. The buildings windows were boarded up, shutters drawn. Blocking all light from entering the building. But this sprawling metropolis seemed to have no life. But it did have life, of the undead sort, thriving under the streets. Under the streets was a different story. Where subways once were was all carved out and made perfect for the supreme race that now help the land in its grip. Humans were scattered. Hunted like animals, treated like cattle for their vampire masters. There were pockets of humanity left, living away from the major cities and away from vampire rule. But always hunted. Those caught could only hope to be bled dry, every drop of their blood packaged in blood packs like a meat processing plant. Others were not so lucky. Sold at private auction for the more wealthy vampires whom wished to possess their own personal food slave. For having one was a status symbol, an object for posh snobbish vampires to show off and bring to parties. Under the streets was business as usual. The market district was in full swing with may goods passing through. High class vases, rugs and other home décor. Fine clothing and expensive jewelry were all on display. But one vampire walked past it all. Skin as pale as white marble, which only seemed brighter against his long black silky hair. Styled straight back it fell from the man’s head seamlessly. His dark clothing was reminiscent of the early 1900’s. A white long sleeve dress shirt under a deep red vest which was covered by a black coat and dress pants. His clothing looking the finest one could buy. Despite having no limp what so ever he carried an elegant cane. His fingers adorned with platinum and turquoise rings. He was dressed as though he were someone of importance, but his attire was of course compensation. The tall vampire looked out over the crowd, his strong featured face looking towards the stage where he knew he’d soon get that key piece to show off his ‘nobility’. His narrow eyes stayed focused on the stage, even as he noticed the portly vampire walking up to him. He fought away the sneer trying to form on his face. “Finally got enough money to afford a food slave, eh Mutaba?” He said in a condescending tone. Mutaba looked down at the shorter vampire with a forced charming smile. “I could have afforded one all along. I simply chose not to get one. But it’s become quite an annoyance to drink from cold blood packs.” He said with a sneer in his tone as he looked back on stage. A thin man came on stage, another vampire of course, with a microphone. He began to call attention to the stage, looking back as the humans were organized. All chained and hands tied as they were drug out on stage. What the man was saying was of no interest to Mutaba. It was the line-up that he looked over. A mixture of men and women, ranging in age from children to middle aged. But one woman caught Mutaba’s eye.