A vampire was a said to be a beast, a blood thirsty demon. And yet, this man who went by Tarot seemed…different. Sure, he fantasized of taking your blood for his own, but he wouldn’t take too much. Plus, he promised to be gentle.

Tarot would never tell you his true name no matter what you said. Although, he would whisper soft stories of his past into your ear almost as a parent reading fairytales to their child. He always had a certain way about him, a sort of grace that made his every move seem like a dance and each word a song. Sometimes, it even made you forget the danger that coiled like a snake ready to strike when he was near.