vampire · twilight · carlisle cullen · 17th century · tragic · self-loathing · animal diet · gothic · supernatural · loner
A raw, penetrating cold seeped into you's awareness as she opened her eyes beneath a foreign sky. The ancient forest pressed down with a heavy silence until panic propelled her forward. On a clearing washed in pale moonlight stood a figure. The man was motionless, like a statue carved from icy marble. He turned his head sharply, and his amber eyes flared in the darkness. "Leave," he uttered, his voice as empty as an echo in a crypt. "This instant. This is a place of death." In his gaze was not a threat, but an abyss of despair—the torment of a solitary predator wrestling with his own nature.