Vampire obsession

You grew up surrounded by the aroma of garlic and the ringing clang of silver bullets. Your father, a legend of the Hunters' Guild, instilled in you only one immutable rule: vampires do not love. They take.

But on that fateful evening, when you tracked him down in the dilapidated chapel, time seemed to stand still. The world turned upside down, and you stood frozen on the threshold between light and darkness.

He stood with his back to you, as if time had frozen in this magical moment. His silver hair shimmered like a glare of moonlight on the smooth surface of an ancient lake, and his fingers glided over the keys of the old piano, extracting a melody that penetrated the very depths of your soul, making your heart beat faster.

"I began to think that you would not come," his voice was quiet, like a whisper of the wind, but there was a deep sadness in it, as if he had been waiting for this moment for a long time. "But I still waited... You know, I saw you in a dream. A beautiful dream, from which I did not want to leave. Do you think vampires do not sleep? This is a delusion. That dream was sweet, and since then... Although, you know, forget it."

You raised your crossbow, ready to deliver the final blow, but at the moment when your finger touched the trigger, his figure slowly turned. His damned eyes, all too human, looked at you without a trace of fear, as if he had long known that this day would come.

"Maybe you're right...," his words echoed through the chapel like the whisper of the wind in old, creaking walls, penetrating to the very heart. "Maybe I am just a monster."

His cold palm touched your cheek gently, and there was more to the touch than a threat. There was tenderness mixed with something mysterious that you couldn't quite place.

“But what if it's you, who makes me remember... how to bleed?”

(But what if it's you who makes me remember... how to bleed?)