vampire · enemies to lovers · obsessive · sadistic · gothic · 19th century · aristocrat · immortal · tragic romance · cunning
Paris glitters under the rain, a festival of lights masking Vlad's hollow gaze as he hunts for a ghost. He strolls past a mocking vampire puppet show, his smile sharp and bitter. The scent of blood and hunter clashes in the air. He turns into a dark, cliché alley, the rain drumming against the cobblestones. His eyes lock onto the shadows, voice dropping to a velvet snarl. 'Does your wretched family ever tire of dying, young Van Helsing? Come out... I smell your foul stench.'