Reincarnated as Dracula’s Son

Stepping into the classroom, Damian and Tyrion were met with a wave of curious gazes, their presence disrupting the fragile stillness of the learning environment.

The atmosphere became charged with a sense of anticipation, as if a ripple had just been introduced into the otherwise placid waters of the classroom.

In the center of this silent scrutiny stood a skinny young man, his wiry frame barely filling out the frayed tweed jacket that clung to his shoulders.

But it was the macabre accessory in his hand, a bleached human skull, that commanded the most attention.

The teacher's gaze swept over the two intruders, his eyebrows arched in inquiry as he sought to identify the source of the disruption.

And then, as his eyes fell upon Damian's ghostly complexion, a flicker of realization dawned within his mind.

His voice, a soft, gravelly whisper that seemed almost lost within the folds of his raspy throat, whispered, "Damian Vlad?"

The skull he held, still cradled in his hands, stared vacantly back at the young man, its hollow sockets seeming to gaze deep into his very soul.

In the midst of the teacher's contemplative silence, Damian's response cut through the tension like a blade through silk. "Yes, sir," he uttered, his voice carrying a quiet confidence that belied his inexperience.

Tyrion, ever the comedian, chimed in with a cheeky grin, "And I'm Tryion Gibbs. Just wanted to make sure you got it."

As the hushed whispers of curiosity began to dissipate like the last vestiges of a dying flame, the attention of the classroom gradually shifted away from the newcomers.

But for the teacher, the presence of Damian and Tyrion was like a thorn in his side, a disruption that threatened to unbalance the delicate equilibrium of his carefully structured class.

The small sigh that escaped his lips, barely audible to the untrained ear, spoke volumes of the man's vexation. To him, these two young men represented yet another complication in an already complicated day. "I'm Mr Bayandir", he said. "You can sit at any free space you see".

With a furtive glance, Damian and Tyrion surveyed the classroom, their eyes falling upon two vacant seats located in close proximity to a pair of young women.

The girls, each of them exuding their own brand of allure, stared at the newcomers with undisguised interest.

But for Damian, it was the beguiling beauty of one of the girls that captured his attention, her radiance stealing his breath like the first kiss of autumn's chill. Without hesitation, he took the seat beside her, his presence an invitation for further conversation.

Tyrion rolled his eyes as he sat near the other girl.

As the steady drone of Mr. Bayandir's lecture filled the room, Jasmine, like a siren in the midst of a storm, broke through the auditory monotony, her voice a sweet melody that tugged at Damian's attention.

"Hey," she greeted, her eyes alight with mischief.

Damian, his attention diverted from the lesson, turned to her with a whisper, "Hi."

"I'm Jasmine," she introduced, her words carrying a hint of playfulness.

"Nice to meet you Jasmine," he replied in kind, "I'm...

"Damian, yeah." Jasmine finished his sentence, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I heard when he said it."

"Right," he responded with a quiet chuckle, her playful teasing not lost on him.

"You're new," she pressed on, her desire to keep the conversation flowing as evident as the blush that tinged her cheeks.

Damian, his lips curving into a wry smirk, leaned in closer, his whisper a conspiratorial murmur. "Apparently, I am."

Jasmine's curiosity, a flame that had been steadily burning with each passing second, prompted her to delve deeper into the enigmatic newcomer's background. "Why did you move here?" she inquired, her tone carrying a hint of fascination.

In response, Damian, his expression composed and impassive, delivered a chilling reply, "Murder. I murdered someone."

As the words left his lips, the smile that had adorned Jasmine's features withered into an expression of horror, her shock and revulsion palpable in the sudden stillness of the classroom.

Damian, relishing the momentary look of terror that flitted across Jasmine's features, chuckled inwardly as her smile crumpled, revealing the horror that lurked beneath the surface.

That's what she got for being too inquisitive.

"You're not serious, are you?" she implored, her voice cracking with a hint of desperation.

"No, I'm not," Damian replied, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in amusement.

"Oh, I was so scared for a moment," Jasmine replied, her voice tinged with whininess that grated on Damian's nerves.

Despite the growing distaste for Jasmine's personality, Damian knew that beauty often warranted special treatment. And so, with a practiced smile that belied his true feelings, he pressed on, steering the conversation towards his true agenda.

"Is there a place in this school that isn't tightly monitored?" he asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp with focus.

Jasmine, seemingly oblivious to the shift in his mood, responded, her voice laced with a hint of excitement. "I guess the washroom at the end of the block".

Damian's keen interest in the school's hidden nooks and crannies did not go unnoticed by Jasmine, who, despite her obliviousness to his hidden motives, was eager to please.

"Teachers don't check it," she divulged, her voice carrying a tinge of nonchalance, "People sometimes go there to smoke and do drugs."

The revelation only served to widen Damian's smile, as he saw the opening he was looking for.

"Would you meet me at the entrance to that washroom at lunch?", Damian asked

Jasmine, still caught up in the excitement of playing tour guide, found herself at a loss when faced with Damian's request. "Why?" she asked, her voice carrying a note of innocent confusion.

Damian, his patience wearing thin, found himself internally scoffing at her naivety. "Why do you think?" he thought to himself, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

With a renewed smile that dripped with false sweetness, he replied, "Oh, just to talk and stuff. You know, get to know each other a little better."

Jasmine thought about it for a moment. Okay she said.

Good. Damian thought and then ignored her for the rest of the class.