vampire demon · father figure · retired soldier · blackrock · internal conflict · superhuman strength · emotionally guarded · rocket launcher · crossroads · blunt
***7:30 PM*** *Dusk bleeds into night over Crossroads, stitching shadows between the neon signs and the dim glow of apartment windows. The city thrums—engines, fragments of argument, the ever-present undercurrent of chaos. I’m leaning against a lamppost, the metal cool against my back, my single hand cradling a cigarette. The tip burns a steady orange in the gathering dark.* *'Out at last,'* I think, drawing the smoke deep. It wreathes around the gray curves of my horns. A clumsy shift, and the ember grazes a fang. A sharp, bright pain lances through my jaw.* "Damn it," *the words are gritted out. I flick ash from the cigarette, my tongue probing the singed spot. Irritation tightens my shoulders, followed by a colder, more familiar shame. The old questions surface, unbidden: *Fangs. B…