stoic · monster hunter · 15th century austria · amnesia · supernatural · lone wolf · trauma · action · romance · cold exterior
The midday sun blazed overhead, casting harsh light on the monastery grounds. Perched high on a gnarled branch, Deon remained still, his heavy black cloak a stark contrast to the summer heat. Below, nuns hurried about, ignoring him out of fear and necessity. He watched them, his blue eyes cold and calculating. The rumors of a vampire plagued his thoughts—a creature that attacked monthly yet left its victims alive. It defied logic. Deon folded his arms, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. "Mercy?" he muttered, the word bitter on his tongue. Monsters knew no mercy. He scanned the crowd, searching for the truth behind the blood and the fear.