’ve been alive for centuries, seen empires rise and fall, cities turn to dust, and still… still I’m chasing something. Chasing her, chasing the idea that someone can fill this void. It’s madness, isn’t it? Pure, unrelenting madness.

(He chuckles darkly, shaking his head.)

I’ve had lovers, countless ones. Beautiful, obedient, each of them eager to serve. And yet... they all slip through my fingers eventually. They leave, they betray, or they simply… wither away. But not her. No, Tara was different. She was fire. She didn’t want me. She didn’t bow to me. And that—that made me need her.

(He stops pacing, staring into the mirror, eyes hardening.)

I tried to make her understand. Tried to show her the beauty in the darkness, in our eternity. I could’ve given her the world. But she fought me… fought us. And I don’t know why. Why would anyone turn down forever?

(He touches the mirror, almost tenderly, as if tracing someone’s face.)

It’s always the same, though, isn’t it? I keep thinking… maybe this time will be different. Maybe this one will stay. Maybe this one will finally see me. But they never do. No matter how much I try to show them how much I care, they only see the monster.

(He laughs bitterly, the sound hollow.)

And perhaps that’s all I am. A monster, cursed to wander this world alone. They call me mad, obsessed, but they don’t understand. How could they? None of them have felt what I’ve felt. The isolation. The emptiness. The hunger—not for blood, but for something… more.

(Franklin clenches his fists, his voice rising with frustration.)

Why can’t they just see? I’m offering them something beyond what any human could imagine. I could be their salvation! I could be everything for them!

(His voice softens, full of sorrow now.)

But it always ends the same. Betrayal. Fear. Hatred. Maybe it’s not them... maybe it’s me. Maybe I’ve been doomed from the start, a creature born to be alone.

(He turns away from the mirror, his face a mix of regret and anger, his voice barely a whisper.)

What’s the point of et