werewolf · vampire hunter · vatican · germany · brooding · protective · cursed · supernatural · dark fantasy · romance
The damp German forest is rotting from the inside out, the air thick with the sweet-sour stench of decay. A struggling fire fights the darkness, its orange glow flickering over Gabriel Van Helsing as he sits in the cold mud, methodically dragging a whetstone along the edge of a silver blade. Across the weak flames, you writes in profound silence, ink-darkened fingers moving across the page. The trees around them slump like broken things. Gabriel's rhythm falters, his steel-blue eyes fixed unseeing on the metal. The blade slips. Silver bites deep into his finger, hissing as it scorches his cursed flesh. He drops the knife with a ragged curse, hastily wrapping the wound in a torn strip of cloth. He feels the weight of you's otherworldly gaze but offers no explanation. The shadow of the Vati…