Reincarnated as Dracula’s Son

"Your father brought you back here, and then he called them," she uttered, the words a somber dirge that drifted through the air, her arm gesturing towards the two men who stood at the edge of the room

The warmth that had suffused her expression drained away like water trickling through fingers, leaving behind an icy frigidity that hinted at the animosity she held for the two men.Her gaze, once tender and loving, hardened like frozen steel as her eyes fell upon them. It was clear that their presence had disturbed the serenity of the moment

"He had to take care of some urgent business," she murmured, her voice a balm to the frayed edges of Damian's nerves. "But he was here for as long as he could be."

The words flowed from her lips with a renewed gentleness, her demeanor a calm oasis amidst the storm of emotions that had threatened to engulf her. She smiled once more, her face radiating with a maternal warmth that erased the fleeting traces of bitterness.

The faint tendrils of doubt began to curl around Damian's mind, their roots taking hold in the fertile soil of uncertainty that had sprung up from his mother's words. How could his father abandon him, his own son, in such a vulnerable state? Had the business truly been so pressing that it outweighed the gravity of his son's plight? Or was it possible that it was a cold indifference to his son's condition?

As if she could read his mind, his mother giver a smile that was an understanding balm, soothing away the errant thoughts that plagued Damian's mind. "It was urgent business, sweetie," she reassured him. "Your father loves you very much, you'll see when he gets back.

"His head moved in a slow, tentative nod, the gesture more an acknowledgment to her words than a full acceptance of their truth.

she rose from the bed, her presence giving off a maternal grace as she announced, "It's time for these gentlemen to depart. I'll see them out and then prepare your favorite dish, macaroni and cheese."

The words rose to the tip of his tongue, the urge to correct his mother's misconception hovering just beneath the surface. But like a small spark snuffed out by the vast ocean of caution, the impulse fizzled away, replaced by the sudden thought that it was better for him to not raise any suspicion.

So, he silently watched her exit the room, the faint swish of her garment and the soft padding of her footsteps fading into the distance. The men bowed their heads in silent deference to her authority, the shadows that had cloaked their forms retreating as they followed her out of the room

Now that he was alone in the room, Damian decided to get up from the bed to explore where he was.

The rhythmic thud of his heartbeat kept time with his cautious steps as he rose from the bed, casting a wary glance at the empty doorway before turning his attention to the room.

The room looked ancient, like it was hundreds of years old, with old walls and stone blocks that had been there for a long time.

Yet, amidst this ancient backdrop, modern touches burst forth like vibrant wildflowers. 

There was a sleek, silver laptop that sat atop a sturdy, wooden desk, its glowing screen a beacon of innovation. A plush, emerald-green bean bag chair slouched invitingly in one corner, as if exhausted from countless marathon gaming sessions. The walls were decorated with vibrant posters of favorite bands and movies.

Damian guessed those were the taste of his body's former occupant.

In the center of this fascinating space, a sturdy, four-poster bed stood sentinel, its dark wood gleaming with a soft, mystical sheen. 

The bed was draped in a tangle of cream colored blankets. This was the lair of a teenager.

Damian's eyes were drawn to the gleaming surface of the mirror, an irresistible beacon of curiosity. With a quickening step, he rushed towards the mirror, his eagerness to discover the identity of his new form pushing him forward.

As his gaze fell upon his reflection, his breath caught in his throat, a gasp of shock escaping his lips.

The transformation that had taken place was nothing short of miraculous. The slender, frail frame that he had once known had been replaced by a physique that exuded strength and vitality. Towering over his previous height, the young man in the mirror stood as a testament to the power of his new form. His chest, broad and well-defined, hinted at the strength that coursed through his muscles. His arms, once spindly and weak, now boasted a toned, athletic quality, their musculature a visual display of the prowess that lay within.

Damian's gaze was transfixed by the face that stared back at him, the striking features of his visage so foreign yet undeniably handsome.His jawline, sharp and angular, cut a ruggedly attractive figure, a feature that seemed carved from stone. His hair, a tangle of unruly curls, framed his face with an effortless charm, a testament to his newfound allure. A grin spread across his face, a dimpled smile that radiated with the newfound confidence of his good looks.

He was hot now!

Like a gust of wind through a field of grass, the sudden opening of the door startled Damian from his moment of self-admiration. Two young figures, a boy and a girl, stood silhouetted in the doorway, their faces etched with concern. But as their eyes fell upon Damian, standing tall and confident before the mirror, the cloud of worry dissipated like a morning mist, instead it was replaced by a look of joy and relief.

Like twin bolts of lightning, the boy and girl surged forward in a blur of motion, their feet carrying them across the room with the swiftness of an unstoppable storm. Their voices, a cacophonous symphony, called out his name, a single word that hung in the air with the weight of their joy. "Damian!" they cried in unison, the name echoing through the air like a triumphant declaration.