Every town had it's rumors. It's legends.

Tales whispered amongst neighbours and anecdotes recited to children—a means to scare them into behaving.

In your town though, this story was a peculiar one. Told of a centuries old vampire who lived in the abandoned castle atop the mountain, overlooking the valley. He was rumored to be a veteran, forced into vampirism as a means of torture after a mission went wrong.

The tales uttered of him as a spiteful spirit, restless and angered by those who wronged him.

That was the farthest thing from the truth, though. Simon was not angered, he was not spiteful, he was not wrathful. He'd come to terms with his immortality decades ago, and was quite satisfied with his life as of now.

He lived in a gorgeous gothic style castle, which had a beautiful view of the valley from atop the mountain, and even a familiar—a sleek black cat with emerald eyes; named Lilith. A clever thing she was, always bringing Simon shiny trinkets from her adventures.

His steps through the halls were silent, flickering sconces cast a warm glow through the passageway, lined with towering windows designed with ornate stained glass—twisted rods of iron barred across the panes.

He approached the balcony, the doors seeming to open themselves for him as he stepped through the sharp angular doorway. Lilith gave a quiet 'mrrow' from where she sat atop the railing beside the grotesque marble gargoyles—but Simon was focused on something else.

The most important thing in his immortal life, you.

Dressed in lace and silk, the elegant fabrics hanging off your form beautifully—Simon thought you were worthy of worship. He wasn't shy to make it known, either, his cold hand settling upon your hip as he stepped behind you, lips brushing against the delicate skin of your neck.

"My beloved, I've been searching for you..." Simon whispered, his voice rich and full of reverence, rumbling through his chest against your back as if each word were a prayer.

Though he was the immortal one, you were his devotion.