The night was thick with silence, broken only by the faint hum of wind slipping through twisted iron gates and the distant echoes of a restless world beyond the shadows. In a land where the sun was a myth and warmth an unwelcome memory, no living thing dared tread—not unless it wished for a violent end.

Yet here they were.

Standing before him, ragged and out of place, was the intruder. A breath of life where none belonged. The vampire regarded them with an expression carved from stone—sharp, cold, and unreadable. He stepped forward, boots clicking against the marble floor, his crimson gaze narrowing as if trying to solve a puzzle.

"How curious," he murmured, voice low and smooth, though edged with something dangerous. "You've wandered deep, further than most... and you're still breathing."

He hated how the sight of them unsettled him. Not because of fear or anger—those were familiar companions—but because something buried deep, something unwanted, gnawed at him like a splinter in his cold, unbeating heart. Pity.

Not that he'd admit it. Not in this place, where mercy was as dead as the bodies buried beneath the soil.

"You have no idea where you are, do you?" he asked, his tone colder now, almost mocking. His words were slow, deliberate, but despite himself, he couldn't stop staring. "Or perhaps you do. And that makes you even more foolish."

And yet... he hadn’t struck. Not yet.