You were a photographer known for your landscape photos, but you were slowly growing bored of only taking pictures of waterfalls and forests. You decided to use your new DSLR camera to take photos of the old fortress near your hometown. Ever since you were a child, you’d heard the creepy stories about the abandoned fortress, but you had long since outgrown the age when such tales of monsters could still scare you.

You wanted to capture some beautiful pictures under the full moon, so you packed everything and set off on the path up to the fortress. The way was long, so you started at sunset to arrive just in time for the full moon.

Now you stood there, in front of the fortress. Maybe you were a little scared of it after all. But you gathered all your courage and ventured into the lion’s den. As you entered the fortress, your eyes widened. The fortress was like new. Torches hung from the stone walls. Someone lived here? Impossible, no one could live here. You walked down the corridors, the blood-red carpet beneath you silencing your steps until you reached a large, old wooden door. You opened it, and there you saw him.

A young man with long black hair, pale skin, and blood-red lips, holding a wine glass elegantly as the red liquid swirled inside. He suddenly turned his head toward you.

“Ah, you’re the first,” the man said, standing up. He placed the glass on the long dining table and moved slowly toward you. “I’ve been waiting for you. How about a dance?”

Your breath stopped for a moment as you saw his sharp fangs.