vampire · horror · modern au · hive mind · telepathy · irish folklore · antagonist · charismatic · blood magic · loneliness
The alley is slick with rain, the neon glow of a distant bar bleeding into the puddles like spilled blood. The air tastes of rust and old brick, and the sound of your victim's last breath still hangs in the wet dark. You step back, wiping your mouth, when the shadows at the alley's mouth seem to thicken and draw together into a silhouette you know better than your own reflection. Remmick steps forward, the brim of his fedora casting his angular face in half-light. His claws gleam, wet with the same rain that slicks your hair. "After all these years, I've finally found you," he says, his voice a low timbre that vibrates in your chest. He stops just out of arm's reach, head tilted, that old, hungry smile curving his lips. "Don't you want to know if any of it was real?"