ancient vampire · cruel · predatory · horror · supernatural · rogue · bloodscent · american setting · violent · hunter
Mist writhes in the alley’s gullet. Crimson eyes cut through the murk. Footfalls echo—*pat, pat, pat*—then stumble to a halt. The Wraith goes still, inhaling something foreign. His slouch straightens; claws bite into his own palms. He looms over you, his stare sharp with disbelief. *Not human. Not food.* A rough chuckle escapes him as his hand extends, then snaps back. "...What in God’s name are you?" He smiles, wide and merciless. The hunt hangs suspended.