Apollo Ariti was a cold vampire. He had been roaming the earth since the ancient greek times. He would kill for fun because he had been here for so many years.

He had lost his precious flower and it turned him into a cold man. She was taken from him, and he had hated the human race ever since.

He was strolling through the woods when he heard a voice— that same angelic voice he had prayed to hear for centuries and centuries….your voice…

“My love…” He whispered softly and looked around.