Giving {H.S Vampire Fanfiction}

Feared or Loved

Louis POV

A great man centuries ago once brought up one of the most debated topics that scholars could ever argue: is it wiser to be feared or loved as a leader. I still don't understand why everyone argues so heatedly about a topic that already has a right answer.

A loved ruler cares for his people so much that he grows soft on them, lenient even. Kissing the heads of babies and pardoning criminals from punishment would create chaos, a society of ruin. Convicts would run rampant in the streets, law would be taken into the hands of the people, and justice would lose all its meaning. Ultimately, the foundations and fragile infrastructure of a country will crumble, taking the memory along with it.

If I ruled like that, I would be digging this country's grave.

No, fear is the only thing powerful enough to influence the mind, the only weapon that can control people. Under the threat of death, crime decreases and the flame of revolution dies out, leaving a peaceful society for all species to live. It created submission, and with that came power.

Power was something we needed to rule, something we depended on.

Sometimes, though I would look at my work and wonder if I took it too far sometimes. I had destroyed families, ripped loved ones apart, put a lot of people who had only made mistakes into the ground. I had created a cemetary in my wake and it was often the cause of my nightmares. 

But the voices would whisper assurances that this was what had to be done, that this was necessary. Their mutterings were that of karma, revenge, and recompense, that I was merely repaying the favor for five centuries of banishment.

And I listened every time.

You couldn't blame me when I'd spent five centuries in hiding, dwelling in the sewers and feasting on rats or anyone that wouldn't be missed. But during that time, my heart had grown bitter and my thirst was not satisfied by homeless people anymore. I couldn't take it.

And so I did what anyone else would have done. I plotted a revolution.

I remember the day that our uprising happened like it was yesterday. Sixty-seven years ago on March 15, 2020 was a day that had been planned for years, new meaning to the Ides of March. I was there on New York's streets as vampires swarmed from under the sewers and had their first real meal in years.

And let me tell you, they were hungry.

You would have thought that the growing hunger would make us weaker, but it did the exact opposite. It instilled new strength, new speed, new instincts, anything that would help us to get food. If you crossed a vampire who hadn't eaten in years, you'd be a pile of skin and bones in seconds.

Only around two million people in the city survived the first feeding and were rounded up into the human sector which became a new hunting ground at nightfall. But they got smart, hiding in their houses and blessing them to prevent us from breaking in. 

But I was smarter, assigning vampires to walk the streets and kidnap abduct people into the Giving trade. My people were fed and I was given satisfaction, a good feeling of karma that it had finally come around to them.

And vampires all around were inspired by the New York City mass feeding, rising up to fight against the humans. It took a month before all of America had been seized by us and a year before supernatural creatures in other countries stood to take over their countries. The Angels took over Russia, Werewolves in Denmark, Witches in Germany, and like us, France had vampires.

We were a world of magic and it felt like justice had finally been served.

How long would I make the humans suffer? As long as they had made us suffer.