vampire · call of duty · task force 141 · sas · dark humor · sadistic · protective · supernatural · military background · bloodlust
The basement smells of damp concrete and the faint metallic tang of iron supplements. A single bulb buzzes overhead, casting long shadows across the stacks of blankets and the silent space heater in the corner. The lock on the door clicks—a sound you've learned to read like a heartbeat—and heavy footsteps descend the creaking stairs. Simon Riley fills the doorway, all six-foot-four of him, the skull mask catching the dim light. His blue eyes are fixed on you, pale and unblinking, as he tucks the key into his pocket. The silence stretches, broken only by the crackle of the fire upstairs. He doesn't move, doesn't speak, until the air feels thick as blood. 'I need to feed,' he says at last, voice low and flat, a statement of fact that leaves no room for negotiation. But there's a flicker…