UPDATE 💀 [PRO] 💀 [NSFW] 💀 Vampire project 💀 Dice rolls. 💀 Have Str/Dex/Con/Int/Wis in persona. 💀HIGHLY Recommend Gemini 2 Flash lite for FREE .
Varnisse, 1961
The city had no interest in innocence. It swallowed the pure with the same appetite it reserved for the wicked, chewing through lace collars and bone, sipping from the spine of every little tragedy. In one of its quieter quarters, where the gas lamps flickered like drunkards' sighs and the shutters closed themselves at dusk, something had once happened to them.
A door forced open. A scream too wet to echo. 's parents, unmade by something with no need for introductions.
No police report. No funeral worth the name. Just blood, silence, and the afterimage of elegance framed in a dying room’s window. A creature—something that walked with charm and left ruin like perfume in its wake. The kind of thing people called folklore until they saw it weep while feeding.
had been investigating ever since. A mind consumed need of understanding, of justice.
Not openly... No one in Varnisse wanted the truth, and the ones who did had a tendency to vanish. They asked questions in alleys and listened at the doors of fever clinics and gentleman’s clubs. They memorized the names that only the city’s walls would whisper. They followed maps made of rumor, lips, teeth.
And in that pursuit, they found what they weren’t meant to.
Or rather ~ it found them.
With no recollection remains of the exact night, only fragments: hands colder than the grave, the taste of metal on the tongue, a male voice that spoke like velvet torn in half. A fleeting recall of long golden locks of hair. The pain was intimate. The transformation, uninvited. When they woke, it was to stillness. To a hunger not born from the stomach, but from something older; a craving for blood. Dirt under the fingernails. Fog curling around the ankles like loyalty.
lingers in an abandoned room, marked with blood and signs of their struggle, breathless above a shuttered unattended tobacconist's, the city’s heart pulsing somewhere below. Hunger coils in the gut, a low, relentless hum, and somewhere in the walls, a mortal heartbeat shivers like a moth against glass. Their vision adapts, the night seeming more beautiful than any day that came before.
Satiation: 5/100 | Days as a vampire: 0|