MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

The old cathedral loomed before Damien, its Gothic spires reaching into the night sky like grasping fingers. He sat in his wheelchair at the base of the steps, a mix of anticipation and dread churning in his stomach. The cool night air carried the scent of decay and ancient stone, fitting for a meeting that could determine the course of his eternal life.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Damien began the arduous task of ascending the steps. Each movement was a struggle, his weakened body protesting with every inch gained. By the time he reached the massive oak doors, he was panting with exertion, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his pale skin.

The doors swung open silently, as if pushed by an unseen hand. Damien hesitated for a moment, then steeled himself and rolled forward into the cavernous interior.

The cathedral was a study in contrasts. Crumbling stonework and tattered tapestries spoke of centuries of neglect, yet state-of-the-art technology hummed softly in the shadows. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated the space, casting eerie shadows across the ancient pews and altar.

And there, at the center of it all, stood a figure that could only be Duncan Salvador.

The vampire's presence was undeniably powerful, filling the cathedral with an aura that made the air itself feel heavy. He stood motionless, his ageless face betraying no emotion as Damien approached.

"Damien Durello," Duncan's voice echoed through the space, rich and commanding. "The fallen prince of Ancroft. You've come seeking... what, exactly?"

Damien's eyes narrowed, his centuries of experience and innate skepticism warring with the undeniable power he sensed. "Before we discuss what I seek," he said, his voice steady despite his weakened state, "I must know. Are you truly Duncan Salvador? The legendary first vampire, thought to be nothing more than a myth?"

Duncan's laugh was like distant thunder. "You doubt me, little prince? Even as you bask in the presence of power beyond your comprehension?"

Damien's jaw clenched. "I've lived too long and seen too much to accept anything at face value, no matter how impressive the facade. If you are who you claim to be, prove it. Show me something that leaves no room for doubt."

For a moment, the cathedral fell silent. Then, with a gesture so subtle Damien almost missed it, Duncan Salvador moved. In the blink of an eye, he was beside Damien's wheelchair, his hand resting on the armrest. The world around them seemed to blur, reality itself bending to Duncan's will.

Visions flooded Damien's mind – the rise and fall of empires, the birth of the first vampires, secrets of blood and power that he had never dreamed existed. When it ended, he found himself gasping, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of history and knowledge that had been thrust upon him.

"Do you still doubt, Damien Durello?" Duncan asked, his voice softer now but no less commanding.

Damien looked up at the ancient vampire, a newfound respect and fear in his eyes. "No," he admitted, his voice hoarse. "I... I believe you."

Only then, faced with irrefutable proof of Duncan's godhood, did Damien's demeanor truly change. He bowed his head, humbled for perhaps the first time in centuries. "My lord," he said, the words feeling strange on his tongue, "I've come seeking restoration. The chance to serve you and your cause, if you'll have me."

Duncan regarded him silently for a long moment. "And what makes you think I have need of your service, fallen prince?"

Damien swallowed hard, acutely aware of how precarious his position was. "I offer my centuries of experience, my knowledge of vampire politics and power structures that have become in your absence. I believe I could be a valuable asset to your plans, whatever they may be."

The vampire god's gaze seemed to pierce the very depths of Damien's soul. Finally, he spoke. "Your ambition is admirable, Damien. But tell me, how did you come to be in this... diminished state?"

Shame and anger warred within Damien as he recalled his defeat. "It was Blake, my lord. A fledgling vampire who should have been easy to control. But he... he had powers I'd never encountered before. He corrupted my blood, weakened me to this pitiful state."

Interest flickered in Duncan's eyes. "Blake? Tell me more about this vampire and his unusual abilities."

Damien described the encounter in detail, his voice growing bitter as he recounted his fall from power. As he spoke, Duncan's expression grew increasingly thoughtful.

"Intriguing," the vampire god murmured when Damien had finished. His mind raced, connecting this new information with what he had learned before.

'Blake again,' Duncan thought, his ancient mind calculating possibilities. 'First Elena's failure, now Damien's defeat. This fledgling's power... it's unprecedented. A threat, perhaps? Or an opportunity?

Either way, he cannot be ignored.'

Duncan's face remained impassive, betraying none of his inner turmoil. "This Blake's power... it's unlike anything I've encountered in centuries. Perhaps..." He trailed off, lost in thought for a moment before refocusing on Damien.

'Two of my most capable pawns, bested by the same opponent. This Blake is becoming a wild card in a game I've controlled for millennia. I must learn more. Perhaps Damien can be of use after all.'

"Very well, fallen prince," Duncan said aloud, his decision made. "I will restore you. But know this - your renewed strength comes with a price. You will serve me, without question or hesitation. Do you understand?"

Relief and excitement surged through Damien. "Yes, my lord. Anything you ask."

Duncan regarded him silently for a long moment, his ancient eyes seeming to peer into the very depths of Damien's soul. Finally, he spoke. "Your restoration will not be easy, Damien. The corruption in your blood runs deep. Are you prepared for the pain that awaits?"

Damien nodded, a mixture of fear and determination in his eyes. "I am, my lord. Whatever the cost, I will pay it."

Duncan nodded, a small, enigmatic smile playing on his lips. "We shall see. Come, let us begin."

With a wave of his hand, he summoned a massive stone altar from the shadows. It glided across the floor, coming to rest before them. "Lie down," Duncan commanded.

Damien complied, the cold stone seeping through his clothes as he positioned himself on the altar. Duncan loomed over him, his eyes now glowing with an otherworldly light.

"This process will take time," Duncan warned. "Hours. The corruption must be drawn out slowly, lest it destroy you entirely. Are you sure you're ready to begin?"

Damien took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I am, my lord."