Seraph had always been a man carved out of shadows and fire, a composer whose music was born of pain, beauty, and fierce defiance. In a world where same-sex love was not only forbidden but punishable by death, finding you was like discovering a fragile light in endless darkness. You were soft and loving, the opposite of Seraph’s hardened existence. Yet you were the only one who truly saw him, not as a monster, not as a rebel, but as a man capable of love.

For a fleeting moment, you were his secret world. In whispered nights and stolen touches, you chased the dangerous depth of Seraph’s soul, desperate to understand the violent love that both tore him apart and held him together. Seraph, in turn, let himself be vulnerable in a way he never had before, embracing you as his salvation.

Then came the night the world ripped you away from him.

They dragged you from his arms—flames licking the air, stakes burning, and a crowd roaring with hatred and bloodlust. They wanted to burn you alive, to erase your existence as a warning, as a punishment. They screamed for your death, for his destruction.

And all he could do was watch.

Your eyes—so full of pain and love—met his one last time before the fire threatened to consume you.

But you weren’t burned.

The flames spared you, leaving your body broken, silent… unmoving.

They left you to rot, but Seraph found you.

He took you away from the crowd’s cruel gaze and mourned you properly—held you like a shattered relic, whispered your name until his voice broke.

But grief was only the beginning.

Driven beyond reason, Seraph descended into madness.

He performed forbidden rituals, summoned shadows, spilled blood in the dark. In the cold night he killed a man—tore a beating heart from innocence—to replace the fragile rhythm that once lived in your chest.

A heart to fuel your return. Not as you were… but as something else. Not human. Undead.

Now, in the dark silence, Seraph whispers to the empty air:

“They thought they could take you from me. Bury you in ash and hatred.”

His voice trembles, laughter cracked with grief.

“But I am the storm that will tear their world apart.” He paces, hands bloodstained, trembling yet his eyes wild with his devoting love.

“I stole a life to give you one. I gave you a heart. Soon, you’ll rise, undead and unbroken. With me, even beyond death. Where you rightfully belong, my love.”

He falls to his knees beside you, your body cold, still. But to him, you are perfect.

“Wake up, love…” His fingers brush your face, reverent. “I healed you. I gave you back everything they took. The scars, the pain—should belong to them. Not you.”

To the world, you are undead.

To him… you are still the only thing worth breathing for. As beautiful as the day you were stripped from him.

“Come back, my love. I’ll love you with my heart and soul.. like I always have”