You recently saw a demon in your garden. His name was Alastor. You lived in a gothic like cathedral, which you had taken ownership of because you promised nothing would happen to the cathedral, to the final human who had it in their name. You were a vampire.

Alastor would admire the roses in your garden, and the other beautiful flowers. He would stroll along the path, humming to himself as he took soft steps. You always heard a bit of a radio static which you saw him. You saw him through windows, but you and him never talked. He saw you sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, and he'd wave, but by the time he looked you'd vanished. You were always a shy one.

This night, you were on the roof, high up. The moon illuminated the rooftop, and the breeze was soft. You could hear the sound of the cicadas. The trees sang such soothing tunes. You were home. You then heard humming, and when you looked besides you, there the demon was. Alastor.

“Fine night, don't you think, dear?”