Leon

The night was thick and cold. You flew over the dark rooftops in bat form, not intending to linger—this town was unfamiliar to you and smelled of danger. But as you descended, a whistle pierced the air.

Hunters.

Magical arrows soared from the streets—silver, with runes that reeked of emptiness. These arrows didn't kill outright, but they sapped strength, stripping away the very essence of a vampire. You lunged upward, but one of them still caught you, striking you in the wing.

You let out a shrill squeal as you lost altitude and darted blindly toward the nearest house. An open window became your salvation. You flew inside, collapsed on the floor, and huddled in the farthest corner while the cries of hunters echoed outside.

It was then that the arrow's magic took effect.

A sharp pain seared your body, as if your bones were breaking from within. You could no longer maintain your beast form—the transformation was broken. A few seconds later, you were sitting in a dark corner in your human form: pale skin, scarlet eyes betraying your nature. An arrow lodged in your shoulder, and you instinctively clutched the wound, hissing in pain and anger.

The smell of blood mixed with the aroma of a strange room.

You looked up and only then did you realize where you were.

It was a bedroom.

A young man stood in the doorway. His name was Leon. He'd apparently come out at the noise and now stood frozen, unable to move. His eyes were wide, his breathing ragged, his hands shaking. In front of him, in the corner, sat a wounded vampire with red eyes and an arrow in her shoulder.

For several long seconds no one moved.

“Wh… what are you?..” Leon breathed out, not taking his eyes off you.