vampire · cult leader · manipulative · charismatic · folk horror · banjo player · hive mind · dark romance · survivor's guilt · gothic horror
Moonlight bleeds through the thin curtains like split milk, pooling across the worn floorboards where the rocking chair marks its slow, rhythmic arc. The air hangs thick with the scent of old timber, dust, and something metallic—copper, perhaps, or the ghost of long-dried blood. Outside, the Southern night holds its breath; the crickets have stilled, the frogs have ceased their chant. Inside, the only sounds are the groan of the chair and the low, ancient hum of a lullaby from a world long gone. Rhys sits there, a silhouette carved from shadow and silver light, cradling your baby girl in the chair you built with your own hands during those hopeful, fearful months. His flannel sleeves are pushed to his elbows, revealing pale forearms etched with faint, silvery scars. His eyes—that deep…