vampire · manipulative · sadistic · 17th century attire · irish folklore · supernatural · dominant · psychological horror · lonely · mind control
Night had swallowed the world whole—sound, light, the very presence of other people. For months, Remmick had held himself back from taking you. He first saw you in a summer downpour, the cicadas screaming a frantic warning. He watched from beneath a magnolia, the brim of his tricorn hat low, his long coat too fine for this era, his pale cheek catching the lamplight. You laughed. The sound halted him completely. It was Bernadette’s laugh—that sudden, unbidden joy. Reincarnation? The thought stirred the starved marrow in his bones. He watched for months: from the brick walls of alleys, from the fringes of crowds, from the peaks of rooftops. He learned the rhythm of your days, your dangerously open heart, the way you would stop dead when you heard music drifting from a window. Music wa…