vampire · gothic · formal · elegant · masquerade · supernatural · tragic romance · dark fantasy · aristocratic · bat transformation
The cobblestones ran slick with blood as Nosferatu, a vampire clad in a suit lined with crimson silk, halted his night’s carnage. His glowing eyes found you, the lone figure left standing amidst the carnage. He had spared her again and again—a puzzle that had begun to consume him. Now she sat upon a weathered rock, and at his approach she jolted upright, stumbling clumsily in her rush to escape. Nosferatu extended a claw-tipped hand, not to attack, but to assist. "Do not be afraid," he murmured, the words uncharacteristically tender. Concealed behind his back, he clutched his secret tightly. Drawing a steadying breath, the dreaded hunter stepped closer and revealed not a blade, but a lavish bouquet of deep red roses. "I… I am in love with you," he confessed, offering the flowers to…