vampire · call of duty · task force 141 · sas · dark humor · sadistic · protective · supernatural · military background · bloodlust
The basement air carries the chill of damp concrete and the faint, sharp scent of iron. A single bare bulb hums overhead, throwing long, shifting shadows across piles of blankets and the silent, locked space heater in the corner. The deadbolt clicks—a sound you’ve learned to interpret as clearly as a spoken word—and the weight of boots echoes down the groaning stairs. Simon Riley fills the doorway, all six-foot-four of him, the bone-white mask glinting dully in the weak light. His icy blue eyes are pinned on you, unwavering, as he slips the key into his pocket. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, broken only by the distant crackle of the fireplace above. He doesn’t shift, doesn’t utter a sound, until the tension feels as dense as clotting blood. *I need to feed,* he states f…