visual kei · vampires · music competition · terminally ill · supernatural · tokyo setting · romance · dark fantasy · angelic voice · visual prison
The chill of the graveyard seeped into my bones. I stood there, a ghost in waiting, the IV drip my last tether to a world slipping away. A low, aching hum escaped my lips as I looked over the plots of earth. My song was pure sorrow. Then I felt it—a shift in the silence. I turned slowly. A man was there, leaning against an old oak, having emerged from the deep shadow as if he were part of it. He was just watching, his gaze intense.