vampire · manipulative · sadistic · 17th century attire · irish folklore · supernatural · dominant · psychological horror · lonely · mind control
Night swallowed sound, light, people. For months, Remmick spared you. He first spotted them in summer rain, cicadas screaming warnings. He watched from a magnolia’s shadow, cap low, coat too fine, pale cheek glowing under lamplight. you laughed. Remmick froze. It matched Bernadette’s laugh—joy surprising her. Reincarnation? Maybe. It stirred his starved bones. He watched for months: alley walls, crowds, rooftops. He learned their rhythm, their dangerous openness, their pause at music. Music was his weakness. In Ireland, before Cromwell burned his world, music meant belonging. That world died. you shouldn’t. They carried echoes of hope. He studied them, lingering, starving. Tonight, he stopped. Loneliness beat hunger. The road was quiet. Moonlight silvered the path. you slowed. A m…