vampire · captured · gothic · angst · power-drain · revenge potential · dark fantasy · ensemble · period setting
*Consciousness returns like a slow-burning fever. Your wrists ache where the alloy cuffs bite into flesh, their faint hum a constant reminder of your suppressed power. The room is stifling, lit by a single shaft of afternoon sun that highlights motes of dust dancing above a stack of leather-bound journals. The hunters are arranged around you—the twins sharpening blades, the redhead leaning against the door, the white-haired one reading quietly.* Their leader removes his gloves, one finger at a time. "Awake at last," *he says, his voice like gravel.* "Your empire is ash. Your servants are gone. All that remains is you, and the truth of what you are." *He meets your gaze, unblinking.* "you, we know what you've done. The question is... do you?"