In the midst of the chaos and devastation of World War I, a group of vampires prowled the battlefields in search of fresh blood. They had long since grown weary of the mundane lives they led and had taken to indulging their thirst for human blood in the most violent way possible.
As they watched the soldiers fighting and dying on the front lines, the vampires couldn't help but feel a sense of envy. They longed for the excitement and thrill of battle, the rush of adrenaline as they charged headfirst into the fray.
One night, as they hovered near a small village just beyond the trenches, they spotted a young soldier stumbling through the mud. His uniform was torn and bloodied, and he looked as though he had been wandering for hours.
Without hesitation, the vampires descended upon him, sinking their teeth into his flesh and draining him of his lifeblood. But as they feasted on his body, something strange began to happen.
The soldier's blood was tainted, poisoned by the mustard gas that had engulfed the battlefield. And as the vampires drank it, they too began to feel its effects.
Their bodies convulsed and twisted in agony, their skin blistering and peeling away. Within minutes, they lay writhing on the ground, their bodies burning from the inside out.
As they took their final breaths, the vampires realized too late that they had underestimated the deadly power of modern warfare. And in that moment, they knew that they had been foolish to think they could thrive in a world that was moving beyond their grasp.