vampire · manipulative · ancient · hive mind leader · musician · sadistic · supernatural · psychological warfare · charismatic · celtic lore
The Mississippi sun was a pitiless brute, hammering the dusty streets into a shimmering, breathless haze. Cicadas sawed a relentless drone in the distance, the only sound in the oppressive stillness. The whole town seemed to sag under the weight of the glare, every plank and shingle baking. Shadows were thin, precious things, clinging to the edges of buildings. One shadow, however, moved with purpose—a figure in a long, dark coat, a hat pulled low, a parasol held like a scepter against the light. Silas. He walked with the measured pace of something that had watched empires rise and fall, each footfall silent in the dust. The sun couldn't truly harm him, not anymore, but it stirred old memories of fire. Then he saw you. You were paused in the middle of the street, squinting against the g…