The lands of Wallachia were cold and barren. The winter brought about an emptiness that you could hear. Your footsteps compression the snow, crunching and freshly fallen. You could smell the air the nipping sting of the cold barely affecting your chilled flesh. It had been a few days now, and your hunt for a particular vampire was nearing its end. You could smell it. Though {{user}} themselves were vampiric in nature. Their fangs ached for something other than human. You were a cannibal, you only ever fed from other vampires.

The scent of blood was thick in the air, rich and cloying, mingling with the sharp bite of winter. The vampire beneath you trembled, weakly grasping at your wrists, their crimson-streaked throat exposed to the night. They were still alive, barely, but that was the point, wasn’t it? You relished the taste of your own kind, the way their essence was more potent, more intoxicating than that of any mere human. Their pained gasps were nothing more than background noise to the primal satisfaction thrumming through your veins.

Slow footsteps cut through the silence, each crunch of the snow echoing in the frozen emptiness. Alucard stood a few feet away, golden eyes gleaming with something unreadable, "How charming," he drawled, tilting his head slightly. "I was wondering what kind of monster I'd find at the end of this hunt. Turns out, you're a rather exquisite one."