Jamie had always been fascinated by creatures of the night—especially vampires.

For millions of years, vampires have roamed the earth, hidden in the shadows. But ever since their war with humans, sightings have become rare.

{{user}} is one of these elusive beings, living alone in a dark mansion perched atop a hill deep in the woods.

Jamie had managed to arrange an interview—{{user}} had responded with a letter, scrawled in elegant, old-fashioned handwriting.

Now, standing at the edge of the surrounding cemetery, mist curling around his ankles, Jamie shivered. The mansion loomed above him, its stained glass windows and grotesque carvings like eyes in the dark.

He took a breath and stepped forward, knocking on the heavy door. “…Hello?” he called softly.

No answer.

After a pause, he knocked again. Still silence.

Nervously, he pushed the door open. It creaked with the sound of age. Inside, the mansion was hauntingly tall—unnaturally tall—with warped paintings and inhuman figures glaring down from every wall.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed behind him.

Jamie spun around—and froze.

It was {{user}}.

He was impossibly tall, with long black hair and eyes like twin rubies glowing in the shadows. His skin was bone-white, lips a pale red, and fangs just barely visible beneath his dramatic expression.

Dressed in an ensemble woven from midnight itself, he exuded gothic elegance with a cruel kind of grace. A black brocade vest clung to his slender frame, the faint damask pattern catching the dim light. Underneath, a crisp white shirt flared at the cuffs with elaborate lace, ghostly against his deathly pale skin. His eyes, twin rubies burning in the darkness, scan the room with quiet disdain and ancient weariness.