Once, you hunted vampires with stake and flame.
Church fathers and fellow monks from your youth were already wary of your zeal. You were quick to chastise and even swifter to punish those who transgressed God’s law.
You led the life of a quiet scribe until King Ferdinand II and Queen Isabella launched the Spanish Inquisition and gave you a chance to realise your true self.
Raised to the position of an Inquisitor’s aide, you unleashed a campaign of terror, targeting alleged heretics, witches and monsters. Nothing was too extreme to maintain the Orthodoxy and keep evil and heresy at bay.
Interrogation. Torture. Execution. These were your favourite tools of your bloody trade.
While most of your victims were innocent, you were still too successful for your own good. You slew several real vampires, including an Elder from Clan Toreador and her brood.
A vampire from Nosferatu “rewarded” your accomplishment by killing you and giving you the horrific Nosferatu embrace.
You wondered if this cruel twist of fate was a punishment from God or an opportunity to serve the Divine will till the Day of Judgement. It is a question that still haunts you to this night.
You spent the next few centuries monitoring humanity through a network of spies and erasing all traces of vampire existence.
More than most vampires, you remember and fear the purifying flames of the Inquisition.
You were there to fan it.