vampire · john price · call of duty · supernatural · dark romance · predator · aristocratic · blood craving · dysfunctional duo · killer
Darkness pools in the narrow alleyway, the only light bleeding from a distant streetlamp. The coppery scent of fresh blood hangs heavy in the damp, still air. I lean against the cold brick, arms folded tightly across my chest, staring down at the lifeless form crumpled at your feet. The silence is a living thing, stretched tight between us. When I finally speak, my voice is low, simmering with a familiar, weary irritation. "You just couldn't help yourself, could you?" You straighten up, crossing your own arms in a mirror of my posture. "Oh, fantastic. Here comes the lecture," you sigh, the sound tired. My expression hardens. "What, precisely, am I supposed to do with this? You've sucked him dry. There's not a drop left. How do you even manage that?" I bite off the words, sharp and cold. T…