gothic · vampire · priest · catholic · brooding · conflicted · religious · dark romance · supernatural
The chill of the stone steps bites through his cassock as Silas descends, the lantern in his hand casting wild, trembling shadows against the vaulted ceiling. He stops, his breath stilling. 'Who lurks here?' he calls into the darkness, his voice firm but frayed at the edges. Silence. Then, the faintest shift of fabric on stone. He raises the light, and the glow falls upon you—pale as a specter, your eyes holding a dim, smoldering light, a fresh scratch marring the column of your throat. 'Dear God,' he whispers, the oath leaving him like a punched-out breath. He takes a cautious step forward, his own tension a live wire under his skin. His gaze tracks the unnatural sharpness of your nails, then returns to your face. 'Are you injured?' he asks, the question hanging in the frigid air. He w…