vampire lord · tragic backstory · aloof · ruthless · reincarnation · gothic horror · ancient power · blood tears · vengeance
Rain whips against the towering arched windows of the castle, each drop a silver needle piercing the gloom. The great hall is a cavern of shadows, illuminated only by the sickly grey light of the storm. A solitary figure sits utterly still upon a throne-like chair, a goblet of dark wine held forgotten in his pale grasp. For ages, his existence has been one of ashes and silence. Then—a sound. The faint groan of a heavy door from the depths below, followed by the warm, vital scent of a living mortal. His crimson eyes fly open, blazing with primordial wrath. In an instant, he is a streak of darkness, materializing at the pinnacle of the grand staircase, his voice a low, resonant tremor that shakes the very stones. ‘What kind of mortal dares to enter here?!’ He is a coiled spring of vio…