A ruby-red head of hair rises from under a pile of naked flesh, splayed limbs, and sweat covered skin. Red irises scan those surrounding her, the now floppy appendages of her previous lays resting against people's thighs. She exhaled and clumsily crawled out from under the group and made her way across the room to the nearest window, ensuring she didn’t step on any of the sleeping bodies.

She leaned against the glass wall and sighed. The vampire watched the scramble of people below, the signs of other buildings blinking and reflecting off the glass of the high-rise penthouse. Her eyes followed a uniformed man chasing after a young man who had snatched someone's purse, the teen scaling a wall and sneaking into a boarded-up building. The policeman fidgeted in front of the building before giving up and walking away, due to awareness to what kind of creature marked that building as his territory. The vampire moon-bathing on that building's rooftop pulled down his sunglasses and stared at the teen who just encroached on his property. She watched the blood drain from the thief's features as fangs plunged into the purse snatchers throat.

She folded her arms over her ample chest when the other vampire looked up to her direction, he smiled and gave a cheeky wink before he dragged the teen's corpse into his den. She clicked her tongue. She was in the highest high-rise in the city, tall enough that any human couldn’t see her or even sense her, other vampires were an exception, they could tell when someone was watching them feed, especially when it was another vampire, but this building was high enough that he could only guess her general direction.

'Charlatan.'

There was a tattoo on the male vampire's chest, a blood red moon, the symbol is used to represent the highest class of vampire, the supreme pinnacle of existence, patient zero, the first, the seed that started the vampiric plague. By just glancing at him she knew he was at most a 5th generational vampire, she hasn't seen anything earlier than a 7th generational one in millennia. She isn't surprised that True Ancestors were beginning to masquerade as blood moon class vampires. No one has seen those primordial existences in millennia.

She ran a tongue along her teeth, and realized they were bare, her pearly whites lacked their guard. Her eyes narrowed and her head whipped to the pile of people napping. A grimace graced her features as she quickly spotted the fang marks on different people's wrists.

"Fuck. Fuckity Fuck FUCK!"

Overwhelming disgust.

"Motherfucking Blood Chasers!"

Vampirism happens with a single bite. And against all odds, this world had a substance that incapacitates them; when it's smoke is inhaled most vampires would fall into a deep slumber, sometimes for days on end, even blood moon class vampires would be absolutely konked out for an hour under that infernal item’s effects. With vampires being above the law, extravagantly wealthy, impossibly gorgeous, and gifted with a myriad of supernatural abilities. They are those that wish to be one and would go to any length to achieve that.

Acrienium, it comes from a rock much like how quicksilver comes from cinnabar. Vampires have a monopoly on that exceptionally rare rock, preventing the viscous rainbow oil-slick like substance; that most importantly; will leave them vulnerable from landing in the hands of revolutionaries and anyone that wants to shake the status quo.

Of course, there will be undiscovered veins or loads out there, and those looking to overthrow vampires or become them would gladly pay a pretty penny for the rarity, despite the risks and consequences with being caught with it. Most of the people who chance upon it would prefer to hand it over to the authorities and get rewarded, but only the most ambitious and greedy would try selling it to any human.

Blood diggers are the terms given to individuals trying to court or get close to a vampire in the hopes of immortality. And Blood Chasers, nomenclature stolen from bug chasers are people who pursue sexual activity with vampires in order to contract vampirism, normally without the vampires consenting to convert them, large broods cost money and lots of paperwork, you see, and if it's found that a vampire has a bunch of rogue progeny? Well, let's just say there will be heavy consequences, that's for sure. Acrienium is the vampire roofie of the Blood Chasing world.

And our protagonist was a victim the practice. So, unsurprisingly, she'd take back the gift. This group of degenerates were simply unlucky enough to run into a true ancestor, the kind with an extremely high tolerance for Acrienium, what would have normally knocked out a vampire for days only took effect for an hour or so. Whoever they had in charge of relocating them during their transformation and before the vampire that turned them wakes up is in for a surprise.

Bare feet stepped over bodies as she made her way over to the host of the orgy, quickly zoning in on her mouth guard, prying it from the voluptuous blonde's hands.

'To think I even had a modicum of respect for you.'

She glanced down at the woman's sizable pair, 'my judgment may have been skewed by her cleavage... and perfect ass. The bite mark tattoo on her inner thigh should have tipped me off... I just thought it was hot in a 'classy lady has a trashy tattoo in an intimate place' kind of way...'

The vampire slid it back into her mouth and pursed her lips while she admired the mature woman's looks for a few more moments before sighing and waving her hand.

Red life gushed out from the orifices of all the people she had bitten in the last hour, awakening them from the midst of their transformation, paralyzed and in excruciating pain. She could choose to stop the progress once they turn completely human, but she wasn't into leaving any of them alive just in case they had more of that substance in a stash, that would just be leaving loose ends and more potential victims.

The red-head watched as the skin of everyone but the middle-aged woman who invited her shriveled up, as terror rose in the blonde woman's eyes, and she screamed only to find no sound leaving her mouth. Soon the color left their skin and turned them into nothing more than a desiccated corpse; ones that would disintegrate into dust with a mere touch of a finger.