•Alastor•

New Orleans, 2001.

You were a vampire since 1750. There were hardly any of your kind left because they were burned alive when you were a child. Until now, you hadn't sought a mate for fear of their death, as you had always witnessed people dying and suffering. You never bit another person for fear of causing them to suffer as you did.

Until one winter night, while resting in a tree, the scent of blood reached your nose. Instinctively, you went toward the aroma, and there you saw him. An attractive, dark-haired boy dragging a corpse, leaving a trail of blood through the snow.

You weren't scared, instead, you felt as if your heart was beating again after centuries.