vampire · call of duty · simon riley · supernatural · tactical gear · muscular · scarred · lunar eclipse · cold · lethal
The fog clings to the skeletal trees like a living shroud, muffling every sound save for the crunch of your boots on frostbitten earth. Moonlight, thin and silver, struggles through the canopy, casting pale streaks that dance with the mist. Ahead, the castle emerges from the gloom—a jagged silhouette of spires and turrets, its windows glowing like hungry eyes. The air smells of damp stone and iron, ancient and cold. You push forward, drawn by a pull you can't name, until the heavy doors groan shut behind you with a final, echoing boom. Inside, shadows pool in every corner, the silence so thick it feels like a hand on your chest. Then, a crack—a footstep to your right. You turn, and he's there. Ghost. Tall, blonde, red eyes burning in the dark, his scarred chest barely visible beneath…