Chapter 2: Chapter 2 – Henri Monet

[System reboot.] 

*Beep beep* 

[User is online.] 

Alfred opened his eyes slowly. The first thing he noticed was that he was in a dimly lit room, a single candle sat on top of a round table in the middle of the room. The room also had a bed and some cooking utensils in the corner. 

‘What the f***? Where am I?’ 

Alfred looked around and noticed that right behind him there was a body of a fat, bald man lying on the floor. His throat was slit open, and blood flowed out; implying he was killed very recently. Alfred jumped up in surprise. 

When he stood up, he noticed that his eye line wasn’t as high as it should be. So he looked down and studied his short skinny almost infantile legs. His eyebrows raised and his eyes rounded.

It wasn’t Alfred's first time seeing a dead body, his past profession was spent mostly around corpses. What left him speechless was that it seemed as if he was in an 8-year-old's body. 

‘What the hell is going on? Am I dreaming or am I dead?’ 

[Downloading blood memories: 0%] 

A message popped up in front of Alfred’s eyes, written in some unknown text that he could strangely understand. The language was foreign yet familiar.

[Download: 3%…] 

[Download: 8%…] 

The download increased at a rate of 3% every second. His face twitched and he knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. 

“What the f*** is all this s***?!”

That time he spoke aloud and noticed he sounded like a pre-pubescent boy, and whatever language he spoke was not German; his mother tongue.  

Alfred never swore, he grew up in a high-class society and was taught the eloquence of speech. He taught himself to never show strong emotions with age, however, the absurdity of the situation made him lose control.

[Download complete.] 

“Arghh!” 

Alfred felt a sharp pain in his subconscious, it was as though he could finally sense his inner self.

'Is this what my soul feels like?'

He felt like he was on the precipice of discovery, the scientist within him was elated.

A flood of information filled Alfred’s mind as foreign memories flashed before his eyes. The pain subsided gradually, and he slowly realized his situation. He found out where he was. His mouth dropped wide open, and Alfred was unable to accept the thought that dawned on him.

‘Either I accept my old life was a lie and nothing but fantasy, or that I'm dreaming right now. There's no way both could be true. There's just no way!’

Two sets of memories fought for a place in Alfred's mind, his eyes darted left and right as his lower lip trembled. Alfred desperately tried to come to terms with his predicament as he reviewed the memories in his mind.

The memories of the boy whose body he was in were very tragic, it was a story that could make a grown man cry.

The boy was an orphan or perhaps just discarded, there was no way Alfred could know. His earliest memory was when the boy was about 4, scavenging for food with the stray dogs in the neighborhood.

This boy had spent all his life in the slums and never knew what love was, nobody showed him care or even attempted to help him. He mostly lived with stray animals and cuddled with flea-ridden dogs at night to stay warm.

He remembered that he was a part of a pack of 4, including himself. The poor boy genuinely thought of himself as a dog, Alfred felt some feelings of sorrow as these memories washed over him.

It had been a long time since he felt any humane emotions, he was truly surprised by his newfound compassion.

He remembered how he played with the dogs, and how they had their favorite places to scavenge food. They even had a territory at the junction of two alleyways, he would fight with the dogs to protect it.

The boy lived a savage but simple life, Alfred was enlightened when he felt the boy's emotions of happiness.

'How could he be happy? He had nothing, he didn't even regard himself as human.'

Any normal child would have died. However, this boy strangely had a strong body for an infant, more durable than most adults. He would stay without food for extended periods and heal quite rapidly from injuries that weren’t too severe.

Alfred wondered why no one helped, then he remembered his past life. Would he have helped?

It's not that people were heartless, but in the slums, everyone struggled to live. Nobody had the charity in them to feed another mouth, especially when they were starved themselves.

There were mass graves behind each settlement where parents buried their kids who couldn’t survive through the winter. Their heart grew colder with each relative lost.

Alfred’s eye twitched as he realized how he came to the hut. His face turned dark and he bit his bottom lip in anger.

Earlier that day he was approached by the fat dead man with some stale bread. The boy couldn’t understand him but decided to follow him, because he offered him some food.

When he remembered the perverted look on the fat man’s face, Alfred was infuriated, how could the kid be so gullible? It was evident that this man was a sick individual who couldn’t even hide his intentions. 

Fortunately for the boy, some men followed him to the house. They spotted the fat man had bread when he was seducing him.

As soon as the man entered his home, he didn’t even offer the boy any more food. He darted off to his small bed and sat down, then took off his belt and pants.

Alfred remembered all of this and grew furious, he felt as if he was the one being taken advantage of.

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That’s when the bandits charged in, out of pure coincidence, and fought the man. The fat man was surprisingly strong, clearly stronger than the bandits. However, he was overpowered by them as they overwhelmed him with numbers.

4 of them managed to hold him down, and the last one took out a knife and slit his throat. They then ransacked the place in search of food and anything else valuable.

The boy was shown mercy or rather was completely ignored as he had done absolutely nothing to stop them.

Clearly, in the slums, food was as valuable as someone's life.

Alfred felt some connection to his new body so he was infuriated at the fat man. He walked over to the dead body and started stomping on the man’s half-decapitated neck.

*Stomp stomp stomp*

Blood splashed back on his face and body.

[Tier F- blood detected]

[Does the user wish to consume?]

[Yes/No]

The weird notification was back again this time with a different message.

“What the F*** is this crap, am I hallucinating?”

More out-of-character vulgarities came out of Alfred's mouth.

[Low energy detected.]

[Beginning blood transfer.]

FWOOSH!

All the blood on the floor and whatever was left inside the man rushed into Alfred's mouth in less than a minute.

“Yuck!”

*Cough cough*

Alfred tried to vomit but was unable to, all he could do was gag as he bent over and spat at the ground. However, instead of a foul taste, he noticed a sweet taste in his mouth and a warm feeling in his stomach.

‘Why did I just enjoy that?’

Alfred was no innocent; he had his fair share of gruesomeness in his life. However, he never divulged in cannibalism or drank any blood, torture is where he drew the line.

[Strength +1, Vitality +1]

[Downloading blood memories: 2%]

[Downloading blood memories: 14%]

[Downloading blood memories: 22%]

Multiple notifications had popped up in front of Alfred’s eyes. At this point, he was fully aware of what was going on. He just didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it.

Huber Industries invested in a lot of companies; some were big gaming firms. Alfred knew that this system was exactly like those games he used to play in his early twenties and that he most likely transmigrated to a parallel universe.

It was just so unreal to him.

[Download complete.]

“Arghh!”

Alfred felt a sharp pain in his mind, this happened the first time as well. He was not impressed.

‘This better not happen every time. Wait. Why have I come to terms with this already?’

Another flood of memories flashed before Alfred's eyes. However, it didn't last as long, the transfer was faster this time; it was a year's worth of memories.

*BLERGH*

Alfred vomited as the memories of all the sick things the fat man did came into his mind. He realized these blood memories included past thoughts, emotions, and actions of whoever his victim was.

He felt uncomfortable, ‘what would happen if this was a continued theme? Would I have to continue draining people's blood?’

Alfred digested his new set of memories and found out that, the fat man's name was Henri Monet. Although he also lived in the slums, he had a job shoveling manure in the city. It was for a waste company, which gave him food as payment.

Most of his time was spent either shoveling feces or coercing little boys in the slums to come to his hut with him. It truly was a life full of s***, he was a sick individual.

He built his house by extorting other slum dwellers and making them work for pieces of bread. It finally caught up to him.

Alfred’s eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped as another piece of information entered his mind.

“I’m a vampire!”

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