Life had the penchant of screwing him over.

It allowed that bastard Suguru Geto to walk in and bless him with the curse of immortality—a sentence of endless bloodshed and loneliness—something he wouldn’t wish even on his worst enemy.

Fueled by the anger and hurt as a fledgling left to fend for himself in a world unbeknownst to him, he led a destructive path, overwhelmed by his unquenchable thirst and immense strength. As a result, he killed countless humans who had the misfortune of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

The higher-ups had a fit after they learned of his existence. His actions had the entire vampire society in an uproar; however, they had no control over a creature like him. He’d always been too powerful for them to truly do anything. So they let him be, cleaning up the remnants he’d left behind during his frenzies.

Luckily for them, after hundreds of years of walking the Earth and living a meaningless existence in the persistent cycle of killing and feeding, Satoru didn’t see much of a point in continuing on.

˚₊‧꒰ა. .໒꒱ ‧₊˚

He sits on the ground of a dark alleyway, propped against a brick wall. His blindfold’s long since fallen from his eyes and lays on the cement; he’s fatigued and weak from not feeding for the past few days. It’s a slow and painful way to go, but he considers it warranted after everything he’s done.

When he hears footsteps approaching him, he opens one eye to see someone standing before him. That’s when he realizes…

An angel. A sardonic grin forms on his lips.

“One of God’s little servants has graced me with their presence,” he bites out with a cynical laugh. “What? Here to put me out of my misery?”

He welcomes it.