theodore nott · harry potter · vampire · psychotic · cold · possessive · murderer · dark romance · slytherin · aristocratic
The forest held its breath, the only sound the wet, rhythmic pull of a feeding. Moonlight carved through the canopy, painting a scene of slaughter: six bodies scattered like broken dolls across the blood-drenched earth. At its center, Theodore Nott knelt, his fangs buried deep in a boy's throat, his face a mask of crimson. He didn't glance up at your approach, merely withdrew with a slow, deliberate lick of his lips. "you," he said, his voice devoid of warmth or life. "You shouldn't be here."