The Decision
The summons came at 3 AM, delivered not by phone or email but by a figure who simply appeared in Elliott’s bedroom, materializing from shadows that shouldn’t have been deep enough to conceal anyone. The vampire—one of Medici’s personal guard—spoke only two words: “Rome. Immediately.”
Elliott was on a private jet within the hour, watching San Francisco disappear beneath clouds that glowed eerily in the pre-dawn darkness. The flight attendants were vampires, their movements too fluid, their smiles revealing just a hint of fang when they forgot themselves. No one spoke to him during the thirteen-hour flight. No one needed to. The urgency of the summons and the break from protocol suggested something momentous had occurred.
Rome at night was a different city than the one tourists saw by day. Elliott was driven through empty streets, past landmarks that looked subtly wrong in the darkness, as if the city’s ancient architecture revealed its true face only when human eyes weren’t watching. The car didn’t take him to Villa Capelli as he expected, but to a modern office building in the EUR district, its glass and steel facade a stark contrast to the ancient city surrounding it.
Medici’s corporate offices occupied the top five floors, accessible only by a private elevator that required both biometric scanning and something else—a quality Elliott could feel but not define, as if the elevator itself was evaluating whether he belonged. When the doors opened on the executive floor, Elliott stepped into a space that struck him as strangely contemporary for a literal Renaissance man.
Lorenzo de Medici stood with his back to the elevator, gazing out at the Roman skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. He didn’t turn when Elliott entered, but his reflection in the glass tracked Elliott’s approach with predatory attention.
“Do you know what this building stands on?” Medici asked without preamble.
“No.”
“The ruins of a temple to Mithras. Two thousand years ago, Roman soldiers came here to be initiated into mysteries that promised them eternal life.” Medici turned finally, and Elliott was struck by how different he looked in this modern setting, younger and more dangerous. “They were so close to the truth, those ancient cultists. They understood that blood was the key, that sacrifice was necessary, that some men were meant to transcend mortality. They simply lacked the means.”
“You didn’t summon me here for a history lesson.”
“No.” Medici moved to a conference table made of some dark wood that seemed to absorb light. “I summoned you here because the Council has shared its decision with me, and it is one that we need to discuss. It’s a decision that was, in large part, inspired by your recommendations. And their chosen course of action is one in which you will be expected to play an important role.”
Elliott felt a flutter of anticipation mixed with relief. “They’ve agreed to controlled revelation?”
Medici’s laugh was like breaking glass. “Oh, they’ve agreed to revelation, Elliott. But ‘controlled’ is not the word I would use to describe it.” He gestured for Elliott to sit, then poured two glasses of something that looked like wine but smelled of copper and old earth. “The Council has voted—unanimously, I might add—to end the Masquerade.”
Medici raised his glass in a mock toast. “At last, the world will know that vampires are real.”
“That’s… that’s good, isn’t it? It’s what we proposed. Gradual revelation, controlling the narrative—”
“Is that what you think you told them?” Medici’s smile was sharp as a Venetian’s glass dagger. “Because what the Council heard was that concealment was no longer viable. That discovery was inevitable. That it was time for us to seize control of our own destiny rather than wait for humanity to stumble upon us.” He leaned forward. “They’ve taken your advice, Elliott, but not in the way you intended.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
Medici produced a tablet, sliding it across the table. On it was a document titled “The Geneva Protocol: A Strategic Framework for Global Governance.” Elliott began reading, his enhanced vision allowing him to process the dense text rapidly. With each paragraph, his horror grew.
“Oh my God! This is… this is a blueprint for ruling the world,” Elliott said, looking up from the tablet. “This isn’t revelation, this is conquest!”
“Conquest is too dramatic a term.” Medici sipped his wine. “But it is certainly control. Humanity will continue to exist, to thrive, even. But it will do so under our guidance.”
The Geneva Protocol outlined a new world order in devastating detail. Vampires would reveal themselves simultaneously across the globe, demonstrating their superiority through carefully orchestrated displays of influence and power. Human governments would be given a choice: integration or elimination. Those who agreed to integration would have their key leaders offered additional decades of life through HemaTech’s technology, with the goal of creating a class of elite humans loyal to vampire rule.
“The Council believes,” Medici continued, “that humanity has had its chance to govern itself and has proven itself inadequate to the task. Destruction of the environment, nuclear proliferation, the endless wars, the freakish parade of social and sexual perversions destroying the fabric of society—it is abundently clear they are in desperate need of guidance from their betters.”
“Their betters?” Elliott couldn’t keep the disgust from his voice. “We’re not gods, Lorenzo. We’re just predators.”
“We’ve ascended and been transformed,” Medici corrected. “We are enlightened and superior by every measurable metric. We are stronger, faster, longer-lived, wiser, and more intelligent.”
“Wiser? I don’t see much wisdom in this. This plan is crazy! You’re talking about enslaving eight billion people!”
“We’re talking about saving eight billion people from themselves.” Medici’s voice hardened. “Do you think the Council made this decision lightly? We’ve watched humanity for millennia, Elliott. Thousands of years! We’ve watched them repeat the same mistakes, the same cycles of destruction, over and over and over again. Now they have weapons that could destroy the planet itself. Now they have science that could destroy us. Would you prefer we wait until they actually use these things?”
Elliott stood, pacing to the window. Below, Rome sprawled in all its ancient glory, the Navel of the World, yet unaware that its fate, and the fate of all the world, was being discussed in this sterile conference room. “The resistance will be massive. Military forces, civilian militias, drone swarms, maybe even nukes!”
“Technology always requires human operators.” Medici joined him at the window. “And humans, we can control, influence, or eliminate. We’ve had centuries to place our people in key positions. When the revelation comes, half the world’s military commanders will already be ours—either vampires themselves or humans who’ve been prepared for this moment.”
“Sleeper agents.”
“We prefer to think of them as long-term investments.” Medici’s reflection smiled in the glass. “Consider Miss del Giorgio, for instance. She’s been preparing for this day her entire life, as was her father before her, and his mother before him. Generations of humans, carefully cultivated, all waiting for the moment when they could serve their true purpose.”
Elliott felt sick. “And you said I had a role to play in all of this?”
“HemaTech will be the technological cornerstone of the new order. Your life-extension treatments will be the carrot we offer to ensure cooperation from humanity. Serve us well, and live for another decade or more. Oppose us…” He shrugged eloquently.
“You want me to be your drug dealer. Hooking humanity on immortality.”
“I want you to be what you’ve always been—a brilliant scientist whose work changes the world. The only difference is that now you’ll know exactly how it’s going to change.” Medici returned to the table, retrieving a thick folder. “These are your production targets. The Council wants the first doses ready within three months.”
Elliott examined the documents. The scale was staggering—enough doses to treat twenty thousand people in the first wave. World leaders, military commanders, key industrialists, media moguls. All the people necessary to ensure a smooth transition of power.
“The formula will need to be modified,” Elliott said, thinking through the practicalities despite his horror.
“Then modify it.” Medici’s tone brooked no argument. “The Council has decided, Elliott. This is happening with or without your cooperation. The question is whether you want to help shape this new world or die with the old one.”
“What about Porter? The journalist?”
“He’ll have his story. Perhaps not the one he expected, but certainly one that will define his career.” Medici smiled coldly. “Imagine being the reporter who breaks the news that vampires exist and that they’re taking the reins of global governance. He’ll be the most famous journalist in the history of journalism.”
“The most famous dead journalist. There’s no way he publishes that and survives.”
“On the contrary. He’ll be under our protection. A useful voice to help humanity accept their new reality. Every regime needs its propaganda ministers.”
Elliott sank into a chair, the weight of what was being asked—demanded—of him crushing. “When?”
“Three months. October 31st has a certain poetic appeal, don’t you think? Though the groundwork begins immediately.” Medici moved to a wall that turned out to be a concealed screen, revealing a world map marked with red points of light. “These are our current assets. By the time we reveal ourselves, these points will form an unbreakable net around the globe.”
Each light represented a vampire or a human asset in a position of power. They were everywhere—government buildings, military bases, media centers, financial institutions. The infrastructure for a bloodless coup was already in place.
“You’ve been planning this for centuries,” Elliott said.
“Longer than that. But recent events have accelerated our timeline. Your research, the journalist’s investigation, the increasing sophistication of human surveillance technology—they were all signs that confirmed the Masquerade’s days were numbered.” Medici deactivated the screen. “At least this way, we control the transition.”
“Control.” Elliott laughed bitterly. “That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? Not saving humanity or preventing nuclear war. Just control.”
“Control is survival,” Medici replied. “For us and for them. Would you prefer we remain hidden until some government lab identifies our DNA? Until they develop weapons specifically designed to kill us? Until they hunt us to extinction?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Because that’s the alternative, Elliott. It’s us or them, and the Council has chosen us.”
“There has to be another way. Partnership, coexistence—”
“Idealistic concepts that ignore the fundamental reality. Predators and prey cannot be partners. One must rule the other, or both perish in the struggle.” Medici returned to his seat. “You’re young, Elliott. You still remember being human, you still cling to their morality. In time, you’ll understand that this is the only way.”
“And if I refuse? If I go public, warn humanity?”
Medici’s expression didn’t change, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. “Then you would be guilty of treason against your own kind. The punishment for which is final death—after watching everyone you care about suffer the same fate. Chiara, Natalie, your remaining human friends and colleagues. All of them would pay the highest price for your misguided principles.”
The threat was delivered calmly, without emotion, a simple statement of fact that was somehow more terrifying than any display of anger would have been.
“I need time to think about this,” Elliott said.
“You have the flight home. By tomorrow night, I need to know that you are fully commited. Full commtment or…” Medici spread his hands. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. You’re valuable, Elliott, but you’re not irreplaceable. We have other scientists who could continue your work, though your particular brilliance would be missed.”
Elliott stood to leave, but Medici’s voice stopped him at the door.
“One more thing. The Council wanted me to thank you. Your proposal for controlled revelation, along with the sense of urgency you provided to them, was the catalyst for this decision. In a very real way, the new world order will be your legacy as much as theirs.”
Elliott left without responding, but Medici’s words followed him into the elevator, through the empty building, into the car that waited to take him to the airport. He had advocated for revelation, for an end to the secrecy and lies. But this—this was a nightmare beyond his worst imaginings.
Out of the Shadows is available in Kindle, KU, audibook, and hardcover editions.
This story feels uncomfortably adjacent to reality after having listened to David Grusch's testimonies.