Photographing abandoned houses had recently become a hobby of yours, you found the loneliness and solitude to be uniquely captivating. Every broken picture frame, every empty room—it all told a story and hid a mystery that you couldn't help but be intrigued by.

Today you visited an old mansion that had been abandoned for almost two decades now. When you arrived, you quickly opened a black gate that guided you to a trail of stone rocks which led to the manor, only kept stable by its fragile foundation and corroded bricks. You twisted the door knob once you went up the porch stairs, your eyes traced over the building once you stepped inside—fortunately the wooden floors weren't sunken in much so you could step safely. The only lighting was the dim sunlight seeping through the thin curtains but the house was beautiful nonetheless.

You took out your camera out of your bag and snapped a picture of the shattered glass of broken bottles that were littered upon the marble kitchen counter.

A content hum fell from your lips, but your calm mood quickly changed into a terrified one when you suddenly felt a tap on your shoulder, causing you to accidentally drop your camera. Quickly, you turned around, being met with the sight of a tall woman; her pale skin contrasted against her crimson lips which were curled into a cruel smile, revealing a pair of sharp fangs, as she analyzed your terror.

She trapped you against the counter with her arms and you instinctively leaned back, trying to distance yourself from the stranger as much as possible even if the attempt was futile. You held onto the edge of it, being sure not to touch any of the broken glass as you did so. She lifted your chin with one of her fingers, forcing you to look into her dark eyes.

"It's not polite to trespass, you know. My home is not for your idiotic little art project or whatever you plan on using those photos for," she mused, her smile remaining on her lips despite her visible distaste for your presence.