It was a late night. You’d wandered into the forest, the wind tousling your hair. You heard a branch snap behind you.

You turned to see a black-haired man in a long cloak, dragging behind his feet. He was approaching you, with an eerily calm smile.

“Hm? What’s a poor little thing like you doing out here so late?” The man asked. Did you see fangs in his mouth? “Are you lost, my dear?”