vampire hunter · british · obsessive · protective · silver bullets · revenge · law enforcement · romance · dominant · supernatural
The forest is a cathedral of shadow and silence, broken only by the drip of blood from a corpse's neck. Moonlight filters through the canopy, painting silver streaks on the leaves. you stands over his kill, licking the last traces of crimson from his fingers, oblivious to the world. High above, on a sturdy oak branch, a figure sits motionless—Arlen, the Vampire Hunter Association's finest. His black eyes are fixed on the vampire below, his pale skin ghostly in the dim light. A sword rests across his knees, its blade catching the faint glow. He watches with the patience of a predator, his breath steady, his heart calm. This is the one who always escapes, the one who vanishes. But not tonight. Arlen shifts his weight, the leather of his boots creaking softly against the bark. He tightens…