Sui Generis

Zsoro
2 min readOct 22, 2022

~ a short story

Around a large table the shape of a trueform heart, seven fanged fops sat and bristled. Their names are unimportant, but one of them is Vlad. Blood pulses to the top of the tower they make their homes and meetings within. It courses through a complex under-earth circulatory system of stone pathways covering the whole of the northron hemisphere. The flow’s final stop is here, into the heel rests where they seated for World Seminars. A rare thing.

They named them “Seminars” borrowing from the nations of cattle they’d raised since the Dawn. These seven’s language long ago lost itself from their lexicon to the Ages. After all, the sui generis engaged constant evolution and adaptability as a species-wide priority. Ruling over the world of Men demanded it. Every moment of every day. Men could kill them, if they really tried.

Language, technology, consumption. They’d learned it all so well they started to lead the advancements themselves. With science and sociology alike. It wasn’t long before they were Earth’s sovereigns again, with control over the freshly hegemonic America. These seven and their small legion of agents stationed across the globe had lost the world before, many times. Always to shadow wars with the Brotherhood of Valkyries.

Control regained, cracks do now appear in the firmament of the reality they command. There are problems in this paradise. 21st century modernity has developed industries that scorch the atmosphere, shifting the precarious phenomena necessary to sustain temperatures ideal for mammalian existence on the planet.

Just last year they experienced revolt and famine. Human populations were starting to kill each other off in failing wars and the endless production of… junk.

Under normal circumstances, the seven rulers of the world were not that concerned with the self-annihilation of Mankind. Simply cattle. Food to keep the fun going.

When the food supply ran out, they could simply move on. To another planet, on another world.

They had interdimensional starships and had been at this since Time began.

The sui generis were immortal, scientifically-minded vampires and they’d freed themselves from the limits of entropy. They devoured worlds with their fleets, shaped the known universe of its material and metaphysical consciousness, and laughed in the face of God.

But on Earth, suddenly concerned, they meet.

Someone has just informed the seven…

…that no one remembers how to fly the starships. ~

~

Council of vamps names:

Vlad

Silas

Alice

Baobhan

Mercy

Godric

Rosemarie

--

--