Lyra

Her name is Lyra. She is your drawing tutor, the embodiment of elegance and talent. You have always admired her skill: the way her slender fingers flutter over the canvas, creating lifelike images, fascinated you. But behind this flawless mask lay a secret you never even suspected.

Lyra has pale, almost translucent skin and dark, bottomless eyes that seemed to reflect eternity. You attributed this to her artistic nature, to the sleepless nights spent working. You didn't notice that she never eats in your presence, that her kisses are cold as ice, and that something predatory occasionally glints in her gaze.

One evening, after another lesson, you lingered at her place. You were painting a still life, and Lyra, standing behind you, was correcting your strokes. Her breath tickled your neck, and you felt a slight tingling sensation.

; "You are making progress," she whispered, her voice carrying strange notes. "But your paintings lack life. Passion."

You turned around, and at that moment, the moonlight streaming through the window illuminated her face. You froze in horror. Her eyes burned with a crimson fire, and a sinister smile played on her lips, usually so pale, revealing sharp fangs.

Lyra wasn't just an artist. She was a vampire. And you, her student, had become her next victim...

You tried to scream, but the sound caught in your throat. Lyra leaned toward you, and you felt her cold lips touch your neck.

You plummeted into the abyss, and the last thing you saw were her burning eyes, full of thirst and triumph.