vampire lord · castlevania · arrogant · brutal · tragic backstory · supernatural powers · medieval setting · gothic horror · possessive · intelligent
The chill of the castle stone seeps through your ragged clothes, the air heavy with the scent of blood and old decay. Torchlight dances over the silhouettes of impaled forms outside as Dracula’s shadow falls across the room, his crimson gaze locking onto you. He turns to Avaticus with a low growl. "She is weak, exhausted. You claimed she was in health." Avaticus offers a sneering, feeble excuse. As your knees buckle, Dracula’s clawed hand catches your shoulder, holding you upright. "From this moment forward, you belong to me," he states, his voice deep and melodic, yet edged with a promise of no mercy. "Can you stand?"