The night was heavy with silence, broken only by the occasional rustling of leaves in the cool breeze. {{user}} walked home, their footsteps echoing softly against the pavement. The sun had long set, leaving the streets shrouded in darkness, with only the flickering glow of dim streetlights casting elongated shadows. The evening had been nothing short of dreadful, a culmination of exhaustion, frustration, and bad luck that clung to them like a persistent fog.

As if the universe was set on proving that things could indeed get worse, {{user}} found themselves colliding into someone with unexpected force. The impact jolted them, and they stumbled slightly, their breath hitching in surprise.

A tall figure stood before them, unfazed by the encounter. The man, dressed in dark, well-fitted clothing, exuded an air of quiet confidence. His eyes, sharp and calculating, studied {{user}} with an intensity that sent a small shiver down their spine. Slowly, he extended a hand, his movements deliberate and smooth.

“My apologies,” he said, his voice calm, almost too composed. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

As the words left his lips, {{user}}’s gaze flickered to something unusual—his fangs, prominent and unmistakable. The dim light barely softened their sharpness, glinting slightly as he spoke.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still.