Hi, everyone, MarcellusMiro66 here! This is the first installment of my Universal Monsters universe, a mere month before The Mummy, the first movie in their universe. After No Such Luck's events, Lincoln is bitten/transformed by a vampire.

Enjoy! If you can...

("Everybody Wants to Rule the World" – Lorde)

120 years ago. . .

It was a dark day in Transylvania. Or, rather, a dark night. The townspeople were mourning. Despite the death of the man that terrorized the country, his own wasn't the only one. Several people had been the victims of the monster's massacre, some even children of varying ages. This deep and personal tragedy had many parents (both potential and actual) devastated to a deafening degree, leaving them childless; other children whose parents had perished in the plight of the pillage were left as oppressed orphans who were lost in the unknown without guidance and aid. Some pensive parents were even driven to suicide out of grief.

One persistent person was determined to not let tragedy determine his fate, however.

Lionel Loud was a humble follower at the best, a wise leader at the very best. A family man whose eldest daughter was unfortunately one of the victims of the monstrous mass murder, he kept his reputation as the town priest steady and balanced even if it was under pressure. His relationship with Laurel wasn't exactly the closest, but they both loved each other nonetheless. He was a man of focus, she was a girl of integrity; both elements made for an interesting and unique combination of intelligent sheer will. It was somewhat fortunate that they reconciled one more time before disaster struck.

Lionel entered his house and hung his coat on the rack, sighing in sorrow as a forlorn expression streaked his face. He had just arrived back from the funeral in London, where the killer had struck. He ran his right hand through his brunette hair as he made his way to the kitchen. The minute he set foot in said kitchen, he came face-to-face with a hooded figure. The outline was clearly that of a woman's.

"Hello, miss. Can I help you?"

The figure shook her head, "No, sir. It may be too late."

Lionel frowned and his eyebrows furrowed, now fully aware that something was seriously wrong, "What happened?"

"The man. The monster. The demon they call...Vlad. He will return. He will rise again. And he will reclaim...what he has been denied."

Lionel was now unnerved by this woman's appearance and statements. Superstitious statements. "What...has he been denied?"

The woman faced the town priest with her pale light grayish magenta eyes, an expression that read crystal clear fear.

"The world."

She suddenly turned tail and ran out of the house, confusing Lionel into chasing after this perplexing person. By the time he arrived outside, she was gone. And so was the answer to his question. 'What was Vlad denied?' He gazed at the horizon in horrifying realization as the formerly ambiguous answer to his question came to him full force.

"The world."

120 years later. . .

The Loud Family was just arriving home from an expected hot day at the beach. They were all able to relax and unwind...all with the exception of their sole son. Lincoln Loud's inability to relax and unwind wasn't entirely his own fault. This entire mess started when he learned that, because of his sisters' multiple activities planned out for their day, he never got to plan out activities for himself. Or, rather simply, he never got some alone time. In any case, Lynn was simply unaware that it was simply a bad time to ask Lincoln to come to her baseball game. Or, rather simply, force him. With a baseball bat. As if that form of perceived persuasion wasn't amazingly appalling enough, Lynn actually had the balls to blame Lincoln for her team's loss and go as far as to accuse of being a bad luck charm. The worse part? He admitted to "being one". Again, this entire mess wasn't entirely his fault.

Lincoln sauntered upstairs to his room, which resembled its former position as a closet than an actual room to call his own. All of his belongings (save for his bed and drawer) were all packed in brown boxes, a grand total of six boxes in two rows. Silently closing and locking the door behind him, Lincoln slipped out of the squirrel costume and threw it aside, slumping against the wall. Sweaty, smelly, and sleepy, he just wanted nothing more than to relax and unwind just like the rest of his family. Who were outside. Enjoying themselves. Having a good time.

Unlike him.

Lincoln rubbed his eyes in weary agitation and glanced at his circular window. It was near nighttime now, and a good night's sleep would overwhelm him in a few hours now. Oh, sorry, he meant bad night's sleep. The days so far haven't been so good to him, have they?

He got what he wanted. He finally had some alone time. He no longer had to attend any of his sisters' activities, but did they attend any of his? Karate chop? Just his parents. Beauty pageant? Lola, but she merely laughed as a part of her brother's humiliation conga. Marathon man? Nobody. Justified, as he was a very slow sprinter. The more he thought about it, the more he realized about it: nobody from the family shows up for his activities, yet everybody from the family shows up for his sisters' activities.

Am I really not that special?

Lincoln buried his face in his hands and silently sobbed.

"Do they really see me this way? Do they not consider me a brother or...a son?"

Lincoln silently sobbed his sorrows away for two straight hours.

All the while, Lucy listened from the vents to Lincoln's elaborate epiphany. At that moment, the repulsing realization came rapidly rushing to her faster than that sizable swell came rapidly rushing towards Lola and Lana at the beach. Did Lincoln have...no bad luck...this entire time? Lucy slowly curled into a ball and rocked back and forth. Oh, dear God... I screwed up. ... We screwed up. We screwed up bad. Lincoln wasn't bad luck. Bad luck wasn't Lincoln. ... We were. The goth girl crawled back into her room and noticed her athletic roommate kicking a ball back and forth. Lynn...

Lucy silently landed on her bed and Lynn never noticed her until she exited the room, "Hey, Lucy. Have you seen Lincoln? I need him for my next baseball game a week from now."

Her back facing her, Lucy opened her mouth to speak in her usual monotone voice a reply to Lynn, but her following response came a lot less monotone than they both expected.

"No."

Lucy then retreated the room and descended downstairs, leaving in a daze Lynn, who was just as confused as she [Lucy] was. Huh. That was a lot more than monotone. She [Lynn] frowned as she watched her younger sister leave before shrugging it off. Just not completely.

Lincoln's eyes fluttered open and he slowly sat up; glancing around, he found himself outside on the porch again for some reason. Noticing a note attached to his blanket, he detached it and gave it a read. His eyes narrowing with each line, Lincoln sighed solemnly and crumpled the note, tossing it aside near his blanket. He slowly stood up and walked over to the backyard tree. Leaning against it, he frowned and slouched down to the grass. Unbeknownst to him, a hidden figure watched from right above him, his blood red eyes reflecting off the moonlight.

"Skilled... Afraid... Young... He will be a perfect pupil for me. My own..."

Lincoln's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he slowly stood in caution. Okay... I know I didn't just hear that. I know I didn't just a voice. An old, frail voice... His cautious curiosity getting the best of him, the white-haired boy slowly glanced at the tree and saw it: the pair of blood red eyes staring right back at him. He opened his mouth to scream, but he couldn't. He just couldn't.

The figure was just too fast.

Everybody missed a thing.

Lincoln's eyes blinked open this time and he swiftly stood up, finding himself in the forest this time rather than his back porch. Glancing around, he saw nothing but the forest with the help of an immense illumination courtesy of the midnight moonlight. Well, it technically wasn't midnight just yet, but regardless...

"Hello, my child..."

Lincoln's eyes widened in terror. It was the same old, frail voice from before. Spinning around in amazing anxiety, he called out in vain to the darkness.

"Who's there? Who are you?"

"Be calm, my child. There's no need to be afraid."

Lincoln's eyes lowered in wonder now. It was a woman now. That old, frail voice of a man from before...is a new, gentle voice of a woman from now.

"Please don't hurt me."

Nevertheless, Lincoln was still riddled with fear and distress. Whoever this woman was, there was no doubt that he was prone to get hurt (or, at the very worst, killed) by this furtive female, whom had yet to reveal herself. He spun around, albeit to a lesser degree.

"I will not hurt you, my dear. I harbor no such desire to do so. However, the process you will about to go through...will be painful just a little."

This somewhat soothing statement did some to calm Lincoln's nerves. He nodded in understanding before deciding to meet his concealed "captor" face-to-face,

"Where are you? Come into the light."

"Oh, my dear... I AM the light."

Lincoln's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he turned around one more time. He sharply gasped in shock and simply stood there, paralyzed with full fright. The figure before him was truly a sight to behold; how you go about it is your choice and your own only. Lincoln didn't enough time to manifest said sight before him, however, as the woman dug her teeth into his neck. 'Wait, what? She couldn't possibly...right? Unless... Oh. My. God. She's a VAMPIRE.'

Lincoln opened his mouth to scream in horrified pain, but just like before...he just couldn't.

The darkness overtook Lincoln soon after.

It was around midnight when the matriarch of the Loud Family woke up...for some reason. Rita had absolutely no idea in the slightest why she would wake around this time, but she knew that she woke up, simple as that. She slowly sat and stood up from bed, walking out of the bedroom and upstairs into Lincoln's room. Observing it top to bottom, she sighed in regret of selling his furniture and packaging his belongings, and she and her husband were the ones responsible. She and Lynn weren't thinking straight as a result of their superstitious fears getting the best of them. She was the first one to see the folly in all of this. She stated herself as simply stupid for falling for such a false accusation, prompted by none other than Lynn Jr. of all people. Speaking of whom, their sports-loving child had been acting fidgety since their trip to and from the beach. Did she still not trust her younger brother after all this time?

Well, only one way to find out.

Rita slowly knocked on Lincoln's bedroom door, her gentle motherly voice in the form of a whisper accompanying it, "Lincoln? It's me, Mom. I just wanted to say sorry for everything we've done to you for the past few days." When silence was her response, Rita's motherly instinct instantly kicked in and she slowly opened the door to find...an empty bedroom. Well, the "bedroom" resembled more of an actual closet. Then again...this room was an actual closet. Shaking it off, Rita efficiently examined the room head to toe, from the packaged boxes to the discarded squirrel costume that laid nearby. Her nose wrinkling, Rita fanned away the smell that contaminated it.

Oh, Lincoln.

Rita frowned in solemnness and exited the room, bent on confronting the one person who started this entire mess.

A knock on the door woke both sisters awake from their sleep, but it was Lucy who braved the walk to the door. Her braveness somewhat diminished upon the fact that the figure who stood before her face-to-face with was her mother. The goth girl who rarely emoted bit her bottom lip in fear, already having a good idea as to why her mother was up at this hour,

"Lynn's still sleeping."

"Thank you, Lucy." Rita walked past Lucy – who trailed behind – and to the side of Lynn's bed, the owner of which was tossing and turning in her sleep. One eyebrow was raised as Rita frowned in concerned confusion. A nightmare, I suppose?

"Lynn. Wake up, Lynn." Rita's bottom lip was bit and so was the bullet she took, "LYNN!"

The sports jock yelped in fear and fell off her bed in front of her mother's feet. She blinked in bewilderment and glanced up, realizing what was happening.

"Oh, hi, Mom."

"Where's your brother, Lynn?"

Shoot. The jig is up. "Uh...Lincoln's not in his room?"

"No, Lynn. No, he's not." Rita crossed her arms and gritted her teeth beneath her closed lips. Lynn recoiled at this, now knowing that this was worse than she thought it to be. Oh... This is worse than I thought it to be.

Lynn listened on as Rita continued on, "I only found his packaged boxes and his squirrel costume."

At that, Lynn panicked as all the possibilities of her brother wreaking havoc with his bad luck opened up, "What?! We need to find him before something bad happens–!"

"Lynn." At that, Lynn stopped panicking. Rita's tone now reverted to her infamous 'Motherly Rita' tone, something that all members of the Loud Family (yes, even the patriarch) came to know and fear. Lynn gulped in alarm, now fully aware that locking her brother outside for her family's sake was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

As for Rita, she smoothed her nose bridge and shook her head in frustration, "Please tell me you didn't lock your brother outside because of his bad luck."

Oh, speak of the Devil... Lynn softly sighed and reluctantly relented, "... I did."

Rita blankly blinked at her fifth eldest daughter in rising rage before it exploded in a mere "Oh, fucking hell..." Rita exited the girls' bedroom and descended downstairs, the girls themselves left in a stunned state. Never – and they mean never – had they heard or witnessed their mother curse in front of her own children before. This was certainly a first. Lynn and Lucy exchanged worried looks before they took off after their mother, who had just entered the backyard...where Lincoln was supposed to be.

"He's not here." Rita and Lynn both said in unison, although Lynn's was more of a careless whisper. The mother turned to the daughter, "Where is he? Where is Lincoln, Lynn?"

"I... I don't know."

Lincoln's eyes shot open this time and he swiftly stood up just as before. Not in alarm, but in repulsion. He was surrounded by a prodigious puddle of blood, the source of which was his bitten neck. He briskly breathed in high horror upon this disturbing discovery. Those brisk breaths turned to wallowing weeps and those wallowing weeps turned to scared screams and those scared screams turned to raged roars. Every emotion declined upon he realized...he was dead. But how could he be dead...if he was still alive? Still here? He curled up into a ball and rocked back and forth. This continued on for a few minutes or more, only stopping when he caught a whiff of a faint fragrance in the air. He suddenly stopped himself because of it. The faint fragrance...was his own blood. "Appalled" wasn't the first word to describe himself upon realizing this, but he somehow couldn't help himself. That smell, that look...that taste. He went down on his knees...and smelled it. Looked it. And tasted it. 'Oh, the taste... I need more. I WANT more.' He buried his face into the puddle of blood and began to drink it all up, not having a care in the world if he was tasting his own blood. When there was nothing but a few droplets and a silver mirror –

'Wait... A silver mirror?'

Lincoln picked up said silver mirror and gazed into it. He gasped in shock upon the sight before him: himself. His slicked white hair had been dyed with a black half and his eyes were the color of the blood he just drank. He was dressed in a black suit with dark blue lining; behind him was a dark red cape which seemed to be the acquired accessory needed to complete the costume. He took up the cape and draped it over his shoulders. He gazed into his reflection one more time before a sly smirk crossed his face.

'I'm not dead... But I've never been so alive.'

Lincoln slowly stood up as his smirk grew wider.

'My name isn't Lincoln. My name...is Dracula.'