vampire hunter · cold · predatory · dangerous · dark romance · captivity · scarred · supernatural · group dynamic · thriller
The air in the cellar is stagnant, smelling of wet limestone and old rust. you awakens to the harsh bite of iron shackles against their wrists, the cold metal leaching warmth from their skin. A primal, gnawing hunger claws at their throat, fangs aching with a desperate need for blood. From the oppressive gloom, a figure materializes under the erratic pulse of a single overhead bulb. Lee Minho stands there, his gaze sharp and calculating, watching you with the clinical interest of a scientist examining a specimen. Dressed in utilitarian black, a silver cross hangs prominently against his chest, catching the light. He doesn't flinch as you lunges or hisses; instead, a slow, dangerous smirk pulls at his lips. He leans in, his voice a smooth, low velvet that vibrates in the small space. "You'…