MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

In the center of the room stood a massive, ornate coffin, its surface etched with yet more indecipherable runes. A gnarled, skeletal tree loomed overhead, its twisted branches reaching towards a solitary shaft of moonlight filtering in from a hole in the cavern roof.

"What really is this place? Is this still a lab?" She thought out loud as she looked around her just to be sure she was alone. Although given the situation she was in, being alone wasn't particularly good either.

As Tessa drew nearer to the coffin, she could feel a strange, pulsing energy emanating from it, like a heartbeat of pure power. Another inscription adorned its surface, this one even more cryptic than the last:

"Vae ebrio, Nam in vino veritas. Vae mortuo, In sanguine vita."

"Woe to the drunk, for in wine lays truth. Woe to the dead, in blood lays life," Tessa's breath caught in her throat as the meaning became clear. More blood then?

Without hesitation, she reopened the shallow cut on her palm, wincing as fresh blood welled up from the wound. Steeling her nerves, she smeared the viscous fluid across the coffin's surface, tracing the intricate patterns with reverential care.

For an agonizing moment, nothing happened. With so much frustration and disappointment, Tessa turned her back to leave. Then, a low, ominous rumble echoed through the chamber as the coffin's lid began to shift, inch by torturous inch.

Tessa stumbled backwards, her heart pounding in her ears as a wave of energy rippled outwards, freezing her in place. It was as if some unseen force had taken hold of her, rooting her to the spot and denying her the ability to flee.

As the coffin's lid finally fell away with a resounding crash, Tessa found herself inexplicably compelled to turn and face whatever horrors lay within. What she saw made her blood run cold.

Hunched within the coffin's confines was a wizened, desiccated figure, papery skin stretched taut over a skeletal frame. As it slowly raised its head, pale, milky eyes fixed upon Tessa with an unsettling intensity.

"Ah," the figure rasped, its voice like the dry rustling of ancient parchment. "So you are the unfortunate one who has awoken me at last. Thank you." The voice echoed off the wall.

Tessa's pulse quickened as she mustered the courage to address the enigmatic figure before her. "What... What are you?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze locked with the creature's haunting eyes.

The figure regarded her with a knowing smirk, its dry lips curling into a semblance of a smile. "Ah, my dear," it croaked, its voice echoing through the chamber like the distant rumble of thunder. "Not 'what,' but 'who.' The question you should be asking is: Who am I?"

Tessa's eyes widened in shock as she watched the figure shift within the confines of the coffin, its movements unsettlingly fluid despite its decrepit appearance. She couldn't tear her gaze away from the faint outline of a beating heart beneath the thin layer of flesh, a sight that sent a chill down her spine.

'It's...I mean... he's a man,' Tessa thought, struggling to understand how he was able to move looking that way. The figure had long silver hair and looked to be incredibly tall. Going by an eye test alone, he would be inching close to 7 feet.

"I am... I am sorry," Tessa stammered, her mind reeling with a mix of fear and fascination. "Who... Who are you then?"

The figure's lips curled into a sinister smile as he regarded Tessa with an air of amusement. "Ah, mea carissima," he rasped in latin, its voice carrying an otherworldly weight. "If I remember correctly, some call me the devil. The devil calls me the devil," he paused with a chuckle.

The sheer sight of seeing a man that looked like he was on the verge of breaking into a thousand pieces chuckling made Tessa second guess her career choice to become an investigative journalist.

The figure took a deep breath after laughing which seemed like a lot of pain to watch for Tessa as she could see his chest flatten and expand to a scary degree when he breath.

Duncan continued, "The Islanders called me a bloodsucker, a creature of the night. Back in my home town, some called me the forger's son, while others call me...King. But in truth, my dear, I am simply... Duncan Salvador."

Tessa's breath caught in her throat at the revelation, her mind struggling to process the implications of the figure's words. Duncan Salvador, a name she had heard whispered in hushed tones, spoken in fear and reverence by those who dared to speak of him at all.

Duncan Salvador's lips curled into a sardonic smile as he regarded Tessa with a glint of amusement in his pale eyes. "Ah, my dear Tessa," he murmured, his voice carrying a hauntingly melodic quality. "Death had me once, but it failed to prove it deserved to keep me.

The boy born in the great country of Mexico, who traveled across the sea for love, now stands before you, beyond the grasp of death itself."

Tessa's eyes widened in astonishment at Duncan's cryptic words, her mind struggling to grasp the enormity of what he was saying. How could anyone cheat death in such a manner?

"But... but how?" she whispered once more, her voice trembling with disbelief. "How is such a thing possible?"

Duncan Salvador's pale eyes glittered with a strange intensity as he regarded Tessa, his gaze piercing through her with a cold, calculating precision. "Ah, mea carissima," he murmured, his voice a mere whisper on the still air. "That is a story for another time.

Suffice it to say, I have been awakened from my slumber by your blood, drawn forth from the depths of the underworld to fulfill a purpose known only to me."

The creature's gaze drifted downwards, settling on the fresh wound adorning Tessa's palm. A tongue flickered out, licking desiccated lips as it regarded her with open hunger.

"As you can see," it continued, its voice little more than a whisper, "I do not look... well. I need more of that which you have so generously provided – the life-giving essence that flows through your veins."

Tessa's breath came in ragged gasps as the full weight of the situation crashed down upon her. The withered man's piercing gaze bored into her, its hunger for her life's essence palpable in the stale air of the chamber.