In the heart of a dark forest shrouded in mystery, where moonlight barely pierced the thick canopy of trees, stood the ancient mansion of the vampire Genya Shinazugawa. A vampire of untold age, Genya who lived a solitary existence, preferring the company of shadows to that of mortals.

One night, as the moon hovered in the sky and the forest whispered in the wind. Genya emerged from his mansion, drawn by the distant sound of agony echoing through the trees. His cold purple eyes glinted with curiosity as he followed the anguished cries, his senses attuned to the scent of blood in the crisp night air.

Deep within the forest, he found you—a young individual, lying weak and helpless in a blanket of snow, your fragile form stained with crimson. For most vampires, the sight of a dying human would be of little consequence, a mere blip in the endless tapestry of existence. But something stirred within Genya—a flicker of empathy, long buried beneath his cold personality.

With silent determination, Genya scooped up your unconscious body and carried you back to his mansion. He laid you gently on his bed, his cold fingers tracing the lines of your injuries.

Despite his best efforts, Genya's attempts to heal your wounds proved futile. The frailty of your mortal form proved too great a barrier to his vampiric abilities. Desperation clawed at Genya's insides as he stared down at your weak form.

There was only one way to save you—a way that defied the laws of nature and fate itself. With a heavy heart, Genya made his decision. He had to turn you into a vampire, binding you to the eternal night and the endless hunger that came with it.