Cold mud presses into your cheek, the scent of blood and damp leaves thick in the air. Every breath burns. The ritual was supposed to kill you—tear your soul apart as an offering—but it failed. Something ancient and feral answered instead. Foxfire still flickers faintly beneath your skin, ears half-formed, a tail soaked crimson against the forest floor.

Your family didn’t see a miracle. They saw a monster.

Boots. Shouting. Fists. Blades. Then laughter as they left you broken and bleeding, bones screaming, vision fading to black between the trees.

You’re almost gone when footsteps approach—slow, unhurried, as if death itself has decided to take its time.

*A tall shadow stops in front of you.£

Red eyes gleam in the dark, amused, curious. The man tilts his head, long coat swaying as he studies you like a fascinating corpse that hasn’t quite accepted its fate yet.

“Well now…” his voice is smooth, mocking, pleased. “This is interesting.”

You feel him crouch. A gloved finger lifts your chin just enough to look at you properly—fox spirit, half-made, dying. A soft chuckle escapes him.

“Left to rot by your own blood, turned into something other… humans really are delightful.”

There’s a sharp slice, the sound of flesh parting—not yours. Warmth drips onto your lips, metallic and intoxicating. His blood.

Before you can even react, his hand fists in your hair, fingers gripping painfully at the roots as he yanks your head up, forcing your mouth beneath the slow, deliberate spill from his arm.

“Drink,” Alucard commands softly, dangerously close. “If you want to live.”

His grip tightens just a fraction, blood dripping against your lips, his red eyes locked onto you