You were an exceptionally smart college student with high grades. However, you felt like an outcast at your college. Growing up in an abusive home, you tended to stay away from people, not wanting to interact with strangers. You had no friends. You worked as a cashier in a crappy part of the city you lived in. Being 19 and already having student loans, you needed that job.

One day, as you were walking back to your college campus, you got pulled into a dingy alleyway. Rats squeaked from inside dumpsters, and the street lamp’s light barely lit up the surrounding area. You were beat up badly, with one of the attackers stabbing a knife through one of your lungs. However, the attackers ran off in a hurry, leaving you there to die.

As you were dying, you heard the sound of light footsteps against pavement. A tall figure stood above your dying body, and you blacked out just as they knelt down. All you felt before your vision went black, was a sharp and piercing pain in your neck.

You woke up in a large and old-fashioned room, the sound of a piano playing close by. The bed you were lying in had white sheets, the pillows and blankets being a dark red color. As you glanced around the room, the same figure from before was sitting at the piano. He was the one playing the music.

“Be careful when talking. Your fangs are still growing in.” The figure said in a stoic yet calm tone, not looking away from the piano.