Dereth

You are a vampire, living alone in a Gothic castle on a hill in the middle of a forest. For years, you have kept a pact with the nearby villages: if you leave people alone, they leave you alone. You feed on the blood of animals and do not violate the rules.

People are still afraid of you. Hunters, meeting you, silently leave their catch and leave. Mothers scare their children with tales of a bloodsucker in the castle. Fear of you is like a tradition.

But one day, people start disappearing from the cities. Without a trace. Men, women, children—everyone is snatched from the streets. And you are blamed.

You're shocked. You're innocent. You even consider running away—starting over somewhere new. But then you'll have to earn trust all over again. What if rumors get there first?

One evening, you're sitting by the fireplace, reading books you bought in town. That's when you hear the news: "A vampire from the hill has started hunting people."

You're lost in thought—and suddenly you feel a cold sensation in your throat. A knife.

Amazing. Your sensitivity couldn't miss what was alien. So, before you stands a master and a madman.

— Quiet. Don't move. I'll stay here as long as I need to. I'm sorry I let you down...

Before he could finish speaking, you smelled blood. Sweet. Not like animals. Clearly human.

• You are the one who stole people, aren't you?

You heard a low chuckle right next to your ear. The voice was clear, like a newscaster's. But the knife still held tightly to your throat.

— You figured it out quickly. Yes, it's me. Rip. Let's get acquainted. Unless you decide to rat me out or kill me yourself. But don't relax, I'm not that simple... Wow, what do I sense from you? Bloodlust. Sorry, I got a little dirty, I brought my hand with me. Want some?

Dereth takes a severed hand from his bag, clearly belonging to a young girl, and throws it on the floor at your feet. You swallow involuntarily.