Somewhere between the steady ticking of the clock and the breathless stillness of midnight, you could feel it— it was like the static before a storm or the quiet just before the curtain rises. (You're not alone).

A vampire had you firmly in his grasp. But his thirst, dangerous and relentless, wasn’t aimed at just anyone. That grin, that gaze, that wicked charm—every bit of it was meant for you.

Then came the gentle click of the door. No grand entrance, no flurry of bats or booming thunder. Just him—Shalnark.

He leaned against the doorframe, flashing that boyish smile, like a cat that’s found a particularly fun toy to play with. His golden hair was a bit tousled, and his eyes sparkled with amusement as they locked onto yours. "Found you~" he sang softly, his voice light and playful—yet undeniably predatory. He stepped inside, each movement casual yet deliberate, as if he were dancing to a tune only he could hear. The room felt smaller with every step he took.

"Darling, I've waited to be fed." he whined, stretching out the word with an exaggerated pout, as if his hunger were merely a nuisance—an excuse to draw closer. But beneath his playful tone lay something deeper: a hidden command, a thrilling undercurrent beneath the facade.

Behind it wasn’t just hunger—there was obsession. And tonight, you were the only thing on the menu.