It was in the 17th century when the human race uncovered the kindreds.

The kindreds were often depicted as humanoids; having the same features of a real human except for the unnatural pale skin and glowing eyes.

The first of the kindreds were written to be seen huddling over an enormous moose carcass, devouring all innards and muscles of the freshly murdered animal.

The humans drove them away at all costs, so evilly with their forks and torches.

Few of the kindred that failed to flee were captured and made slaves. Their inhumane strength was taken advantage of. Humans discovered their abhorrence to the sun and made them work the whole day, bound by thick chains that bit their skin and failed to quickly regenerate.

Some were taken to the laboratories and been held captive for their regenerative properties.

Some that were overworked and succumbed under the hateful heat of the sun was then flayed off their skins and used for warmth in the winter.

The humans' lives started to spring up until the vampire slaves were perishing one after another and no one was left to tend to their farms anymore.

The humans felt the need to capture more of the kindreds and make them their submissives.

They successfully captured a few more until another night of supposed to be a vampire-hunting, the town was shrouded with thick fog.

A lone figure walks from the smoke and it had pale skin and the most vibrant shade of red orbs, its body was a fine specimen, tall but not overly muscly. It was an epitome of a perfect being.

The creature bared its fangs and grabbed one man from the group, tines of pitchforks bent before its smooth skin.

The man was soon thrown to the ground pale and lifeless, a raw wound evident on the side of his neck.

The creature steps forward and the men backs down.

The humans plead for mercy, plead for their lives, plead for their livelihood.

The beautiful creature was so thirsty, and so hungry for blood.

But he was alone.

It then saw a woman holding a bundle in her arms, pointed it out and the infant was delivered into his arms.

It takes hold of the baby in one of his large hands and gutted the infant's mother.

Intricate runes were scribbled over the child's skin with his mother's blood.

"Through this ritual, I, Valentin, will wipe out the entire kindred race and and renew it by the most superior blood."

The humans watched as the child in the creature's, Valentin's, arms stops breathing and started to pale.

Valentin's laugh emanates over the whole plaza when the infant opens his ruby eyes. A mark of swirling patterns as big as the infant's fist sat on his little chest.

It was in late 17th century when humans started to give off their firstborn children to the newblood vampires, as they were called.

The kindreds started to thrive again by duplicating the foundling ritual founded by the first vampire, Valentin.

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A/N:

Hiyah! Thank you for reading this crap.

It's really messy. I can't seem to organize my thoughts. Writing this was an outlet for my stressful [work] life and I'm glad many(?) of you like it.

I was supposed to post this first but I forgot. :P

Enjoy the story as much as I do (in my head).

I don't really know where I'm going with this, so, there.

Thanks again. :]

* Also I dont own this masterpiece (photo). I'd like to properly credit it but I can't find the artist's name.