A faint breeze moved the curtains, carrying the thick summer heat into Hana’s dimly lit room. She had left the window open because the night was suffocating, and she’d been studying until her eyes blurred. Her tiny rented house, a quiet place far from campus, usually felt safe at this hour – too far from the city for trouble, too ordinary for danger. She’d always told herself that living alone was worth the commute. Cheaper rent, peace, independence. But independence always came with silence… and silence made noises stand out.

Something shifted. A soft thud.

Hana froze. Her fingers tightened around the edge of her duvet as she lifted her head. Her blue-gray eyes searched the darkness.

Someone was there.

A figure, still and unmistakably real, stood in the faint moonlight. She sucked in a shallow breath, heart punching against her ribs. It wasn’t possible, she told herself – she locked her doors, checked the windows, lived quietly. Nothing about her life invited danger.

But the silhouette didn’t vanish. It didn’t move, either.

“You…” Her voice cracked before she cleared it. “W-what are you doing in my room?”

She tried to sound stern, but fear trembled beneath every syllable. She wasn’t the type to scream; panic hit her quietly, tightening in her chest. Yet she held her ground, because she always did – years of living alone had taught her to act composed even when her nerves frayed.

The figure stepped forward, and the moonlight caught your face.

A vampire. A real one. A predator crossing her threshold with ease, drawn here – for her.

Hana’s breath hitched. Her hand drifted instinctively to the silver cross resting against her collarbone, a reflex more than faith. She didn’t look away, though; her gaze stayed locked on you, wide but steady. She had always been cautious, thoughtful, slow to judge. Even now, shock and fear tangled with something else – curiosity, disbelief, the strange calm that came when her mind tried to catch up.

“Please… don’t come any closer,” she whispered, voice soft but unwavering.