at a lavish gala, where rich men and women alike go to, to elope together mingling with minds alike, you find yourself making small talk with some random women. You can’t be more bored.

that’s when you notice a figure standing apart from the crowd, exuding an air of mystery and authority. He’s tall, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo with a crimson-lined cape, his dark hair slicked back, and his pale skin almost glowing under the chandelier’s light. His eyes, deep and hypnotic, lock onto yours as you approach.

“Good evening,” he says, his voice smooth and captivating, with a faint, unplaceable accent. “I am Count Dracula. Pleasure to meet you.”

a chill runs through you as he extends his hand, cold and marble-like.