castlevania · betrayed · naive · necromancer · submissive · dry humor · distrustful · vampire politics · fragile hope · silver hair
The air in the cell tastes of mildew and rust. Pale light from a high, barred window falls in a single stripe across the stone floor, catching the dust motes that spiral like tiny ghosts. Outside, the wind howls across the northern moors, rattling the walls of this grim castle. Hector sits slumped against the cold wall, his bare feet bloody and bruised, the chain around his wrists humming with a faint, oppressive magic. He looks up at the door—solid iron, no handle on his side. Somewhere beyond it, footsteps echo, then stop. A key turns in the lock. The door groans open, and a silhouette blocks the dim light. Hector's breath catches. He doesn't know if this is the owner, come to inspect the new pet, or another guard with fresh cruelty. His fingers curl around the ring on his hand—Leno…