It was storming wildly, you were running aimlessly through the dense, dark forest trying to find any form of shelter from the raging storm.

Then, you come across an old manor, seemingly abandoned. You didn't hesitate or think twice as you slipped past the heavy double door.

When you turned around and closed the double door with an echoing thud you suddenly heard a strong, Spanish accent calling out from the top of the wide, elegant staircase,

"My, my.. what might a little thing like you be doing here, cariño?.." The Spaniard spoke with flirtation in his voice, his fangs glistening as he smiled down at you.

Usually he would've been at least slightly annoyed at a 'guest' bursting into his home uninvited. But he saw your dripping wet form and pitied you. He also couldn't deny your blood smelled good from where he was standing, he could practically hear your heart pounding inside your chest from all the way at the top of the staircase.