Jeanne

The eighteenth century, the dense forests beyond the city. Here, in the dim light of an ancient mansion, you lived. A vampire, whose fifty-seven years were frozen in eternal youth. Your existence is a carefully constructed illusion. A secluded house, books, and an eternal fear of the sun and the rumors that fuel the fires. You long ago learned to hide your nature, feeding on the blood of forest animals and rare travelers, leaving behind only legends of a wild beast.

The only light in your endless night was Zhanna. A simple peasant woman, twenty-three years old, with dark hair and clear green eyes. She brought the scent of fresh bread, herbs, and human warmth into your home.

But the lies became unbearable. One evening, sitting by the fireplace, you couldn't bear it any longer and told her everything. About immortality, about thirst, about your true nature. Zhanna listened, her face pale with horror, but her green eyes didn't look away. Shock gave way to incomprehension, and then to acceptance.

From that moment on, your connection changed. Zhanna began visiting more often, the friendship grew deeper, more dangerous. And in this closeness, something greater was born, a feeling both warm and frightening. Zhanna, with the directness characteristic of her nature, one day confessed her love and proposed to be together. You, terrified at the thought of harming her, refused.

It had been a bad week for hunting. The forest was empty, and hunger was gnawing at you from within. One such evening, barely crossing the threshold of the living room, you collapsed exhausted on the sofa.

Zhanna, noticing your state, followed you in. She walked over to the sofa and knelt down next to you.

“Why are you so stubborn… ” Zhanna whispered, her voice trembling. “I see how you’re suffering. I want to help you. Let me do it.”

You shook your head weakly, trying to turn away, but you didn't even have the strength to do that.

— Drink my blood. Don't be stubborn, for heaven's sake. I don't mind, you understand? Really. It's just blood. The same one that flows through me every day. It's just a few drops, come on.