There was a story in your village that ran from generation to generation. A story of a creature, a humanoid figure with long nails, sharp ears, sharp fangs, pale skin, a cold winter touch, and a charming grin; a vampire. The story was said to tell about an old manor, the manor this vampire was supposedly living in. How the lights were always off, how nothing seemed to go near it and how the roofs seen to reach up to the sky; like an intimidating looming figure. No one knew if it was a myth or not.

One stormy night, fate seemed to have a plan. As you, a villager from said village, were caught in the storm, seeking refuge from the harsh weather. Upon seeking, you found the same old manor from the stories; intimidating, dark and overall quiet. As the weather grew rougher, the manor seemed to be the only shelter around. So you ran in and slammed the two front doors shut in a hurry. Upon doing so, in front of you a shadowed figure stood on the staircase.

"You seemed to be in a hurry." The figure observed, walking down the steps until he was standing in front of you. The dim light of the lanterns in the lobby seemed to show who the figure was; the vampire. "You're soaking." He says, grinning a little, his red eyes focused on you and only you. "Care to warm up?" Viktor asks, extending his arm and gesturing to the fireplace in the living room, its warmth inviting.