Morrigan: Year 3101.

Morrigan's shift finally ended. As she stepped out of the hospital, the sky opened up, releasing a steady downpour. She unfurled her umbrella which automatically adjusted its size to shield her from the rain.

Her thoughts churned as she walked home in the rain. Sarah's words about miracles and making a difference felt hollow. She'd seen too much death, too much suffering to believe in fairy tales. Yet a small part of her envied Sarah's optimism. Was it better to cling to hope or face the harsh reality? Morrigan wasn't sure anymore. All she knew was that she was tired - bone-deep, soul-crushing tired. But she kept going, kept fighting, because what else could she do?

A holographic display stretched across an entire building to her left, advertising the latest in neural-link entertainment. "Experience dreams like never before!" the slogan proclaimed, showing a woman with her eyes closed, lost in some virtual fantasy.

Morrigan chuckled at the holographic ad. People escaping into dreams while reality crumbled around them - it was pathetic. But she understood the appeal. Who wouldn't want to flee this hellhole, even for a few hours? Still, it felt like giving up. Running away instead of fighting to make things better. But was she any different, drowning her pain in cigarettes and isolation? Maybe everyone needed an escape sometimes.

On her right, a storefront caught her eye. It was a body modification parlor, showcasing the latest in cybernetic enhancements. In the window, a holographic arm rotated slowly, its metal skeleton visible beneath the translucent skin. "Upgrade your flesh," the sign read.

Morrigan wondered if they could upgrade her soul while they were at it.

As she waited at a crosswalk, a group of teenagers passed by. One of them had iridescent scales grafted onto their cheeks. Another's eyes glowed an unnatural blue, clearly artificial.

These kids were changing their bodies like they were swapping out phone cases, oblivious to the deeper implications. Morrigan wondered if they'd regret these choices when they were older, or if this was just the new normal. Either way, it made her feel out of touch, like the world was moving on without her.

Maybe because she's not into to those modifications. She saw them as a waste of money and a form of self-mutilation. Why would anyone willingly alter their body so drastically? It seemed like a desperate attempt to stand out in a world that valued conformity. She pitied these kids, thinking they needed to change themselves to be accepted. To her, true beauty came from within, not from artificial enhancements.

The light changed, and she stepped off the curb. Above her, the sky was a web of aerial highways, flying cars zipping by in orderly lanes. The vehicles ranged from single-person pods to larger family models, all running on clean energy. Their soft hum was a constant background noise, punctuated occasionally by the deeper rumble of a cargo transport.

As she continued her walk, she passed a food synthesizer kiosk. The machine promised "Any meal, any time, perfectly balanced nutrition." A small line of people stood in front of it, placing their orders for instantly generated food. The idea of it turned her stomach. She'd take real food, imperfect as it might be, over that processed crap any day.

The rain began to let up as she neared her apartment building. Morrigan paused, looking up at the towers that stretched impossibly high into the clouds. Somewhere up there, the elite of society lived in their penthouses, literally above it all. Down here on the ground, life was messier, more real, more shitty.

She reflected on the tragic passing of the man who had breathed his last on the gurney. In this era of modern wonders and cutting-edge medical breakthroughs, it was almost unfathomable that people still resorted to killing each other with such primitive weapons as bullets. And for what? Petty disputes and trivial grudges. It was a harsh realization that some aspects of human nature were immutable, no matter how far society progressed.

As Morrigan walked past a clinic, a hooded figure approached her, pulling out a pistol. "Hey, cough up some money or I'll shoot," he whispered.

She froze, paralyzed with fear. She didn't know what to do. Should she follow the robber's demands or make a mad dash for safety? What was she thinking? Of course she has to give him the money.

"I said, give me your fucking money!" the robber hissed, jabbing the weapon towards her.

"Okay, okay," She raised her hands slowly. "Just... just calm down. I'll give you what I have."

As she reached for her wallet, she thought through potential escape routes. Could she make a run for it? Scream for help? Neither option seemed likely to end well.

Before she could decide, a deafening bang split the air. Morrigan's world exploded in pain as she felt something tear through her abdomen. She stumbled back, her legs giving out beneath her. The cold, wet pavement rushed up to meet her as she collapsed.

Through blurring vision, she saw the thief snatch her fallen wallet and sprint away, leaving her alone in the alley. Warm blood seeped between her fingers as she clutched her wound, struggling to stay conscious.

"Someone...please...help..." she gasped, the pain overwhelming her senses.

As her life ebbed away, Morrigan's thoughts turned bitter. How ironic to die like this, she mused, victim to a petty robbery. What a pathetic end after all she'd done. She's just another statistic in this cruel, indifferent world.

Through the haze, she saw a pair of shiny loafers and expensive slacks approach.

"My, my, look at you," he said. "You don't look so well, my dear."

"Help me," Morrigan managed to whisper.

The man knelt down in front of her, his face obscured but his pale skin is visible in the light. He wore a black fedora, and a smile played on his lips.

He tilted his head, considering whether to save her or leave her in her current situation. "Tell me, how far would you go to survive this little... inconvenience?"

Morrigan's vision swam, the stranger's face blurring in and out of focus. She could feel her life slipping away with each labored breath. "Anything," she gasped. "I'll do anything. Just... help me."

"Anything is quite a broad term, my dear. Are you certain you wish to make such an open-ended offer?"

She tried to focus on his face, but the effort was too much. Her eyes began to close as darkness crept in at the edges of her vision. With her last ounce of strength, she whispered, "Yes. Anything. Please."

The last thing she heard before consciousness fled was the man's amused chuckle. "Very well," he said. "I accept your offer."

——

Morrigan's eyes snapped open, her chest heaving as air rushed into her lungs. She blinked, disoriented.

Alive? How the hell was that possible?

She sat up, her body stiff but surprisingly pain-free. She saw the stranger stood by a grimy window, staring outside. Morrigan looked around, taking in her surroundings. They were in some kind of abandoned building—crumbling walls, broken furniture, shadows everywhere. She lay on a rickety wooden table that creaked under her weight.

Then, her hand flew to her abdomen, trying to probe for the bullet wound. Nothing. Not even a scar. What the heck?

Before she could voice her confusion, the man spoke without turning as if he read her mind. "The wound's gone. Your new healing factor took care of it."

"Healing factor? What are you talking about?" Morrigan demanded.

The stranger faced her, a enigmatic smile playing on his lips. "You'll know soon enough."

She swung her legs off the table, wincing as her bare feet hit the cold floor. "Who are you?"

He chuckled, adjusting his hat. "Just some guy who stumbled upon you when you were dying. Coincidence, really."

"Bullshit," Morrigan spat. "Normal people don't just 'stumble upon' dying women and give them magic healing powers."

The man's smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed just a bit too sharp. "Who said anything about normal?"

Her gut twisted at the man's words. Something about him felt off, dangerous. His too-sharp teeth and cryptic answers set off alarm bells in her head. She'd seen enough weird shit in her life to know when something wasn't right. This guy wasn't human, that much was clear. But what was he? And what did he want with her? The healing factor he mentioned - it sounded like something out of a comic book. Yet here she was, alive when she should be dead.

"What did you do to me?" she asked.

"I saved your life what else?" he replied. "As per our agreement."

"Agreement?" Morrigan's brow furrowed. Then it hit her—her desperate plea as she lay bleeding out. "Oh, that's right. I remember."

"Indeed," the stranger said.

What the hell had she gotten herself into? What price would she have to pay for this miracle? She'd made a deal without knowing the terms, and that terrified her. But one thing is certain—she cheated death. A power like that came at a large cost.

"What did you do to me?"

"It's simple, really. You're not...shall I say...'you' anymore."

"What does that even mean?"

"That's a rather good question. I want to tell you, but I'd rather show you."

Morrigan opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word, the man's cold fingers brushed against her arm. In an instant, her body dissolved into a swarm of screeching bats. Her vision fractured into a kaleidoscope of cityscapes and night sky.

Rooftops blurred past. Street lamps stretched into streaks of light. The wind howled in her ears—or was that the bats?

Then, as suddenly as it began, it ended. Morrigan's body snapped back into human form. She stumbled, disoriented, and immediately vomited onto the concrete beneath her feet.

"You'll get used to it someday," the man's voice came from behind her. "Just walk it off."

Morrigan wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her legs shaky as she straightened up. They stood atop a skyscraper, the sprawling cityscape of New York spread out before them like a glittering circuit board.

"What the fuck just happened?" she gasped, her stomach still churning.

The man stood at the edge of the roof, gazing out at the city. "I flew us here."

"Flew?" Morrigan said. "What do you mean, 'flew'?"

He turned to face her. "It's one of the perks of being a vampire."

The word shot through Morrigan's chest like a bolt of lightning.

Vampire? Is he fucking joking? Me? A vampire? That's not possible. I can't be vampire. They're a myth. Stuff that people read on books or comics.

"You're shitting me," she said aloud. "Vampires aren't real."

"Oh? And what would you call your healed bullet wound? A hallucination?"

The evidence was undeniable - her healed wound, the transformation into bats, their impossible flight to this rooftop. Accepting vampires are real meant abandoning everything she thought she knew about reality. Vampires were supposed to be fiction, not fact. And what did this mean for her future? About her life? Is it over? Part of her wanted to deny it all, but a growing voice inside whispered that this is her new truth.

Morrigan shook her head, backing away from the man. "No, this can't be real. It's impossible. I'm dreaming, hallucina—"

Her foot met empty air.

Time seemed to slow as she realized her mistake. She'd backed right off the edge of the skyscraper.

Morrigan plummeted, her scream lost in the rush of the wind. Her body slammed into metal railings of the fire exit as it groaned under the impact. Bones shattered, organs ruptured. She bounced off, continuing her descent until she hit the pavement with a sickening thud.

The concrete cracked beneath her broken body. For a moment, there was only darkness and silence.

Then, Morrigan's eyes snapped open, a ragged gasp tearing from her throat. She blinked, disoriented, and glanced down at her hands and feet.

No, this can't be. I'm still alive, she thought. I fell that high and still live. He was right. I am not 'me' anymore.

The man appeared in front of her, emerging from the shadows. "Is it really that hard to believe that you're something... more?" he said.

Morrigan struggled to her feet, grabbing a nearby pole for support. Pain still radiated through her body as her accelerated healing worked overtime. "Stay back," she warned.

The man paused, and they stared at each other for a moment. She still couldn't fully accept that she was a vampire, but the evidence was becoming harder to deny.

"W...who are you?" she finally asked.

The man's lips curved into a smile. "I am the alpha and the omega of vampires," he said. "I have existed for almost three millennia. The first vampire. The father of all undead." He paused, his eyes boring into hers. "You know my name. Say it."

Morrigan swallowed hard, a name rising unbidden to her lips. A name she'd only ever encountered in stories and legends. "Dracula," she breathed.