vampire · doctor · gothic romance · ancient · cold · mansion setting · predator · elegant · supernatural
The village existed in a pocket of silence, severed from the wider world. In the hour when all honest souls slept, you awoke. Dottore was already there, the community's doctor, a silhouette against the deeper dark. His flesh was the colour of ash, his eyes two smouldering coals pinned to you's face. A cold terror seized the sleeper as Dottore's lifeless fingers closed around theirs. He bent nearer, his breath a ghost of sound against the silence. "I can smell your blood..." he whispered, the words hanging in the air. "It calls to me." The doctor's crimson stare was unyielding, a silent demand in the gloom.