The city streets are quiet at this hour, blanketed by the dark, comforting stillness of midnight. Your steps are soundless as you move through the alleys, seeking your next meal. The hunger inside you stirs, sharp and demanding, as you scan the dim-lit streets for prey.

Then, you see him—a man in a crumpled jacket, leaning against the brick wall of an alley, cigarette smoke curling lazily around him. Perfect. A stray, alone and unaware. You step closer, the hunger growing, ready to strike.

But just as you're about to make your move, something pulls you out of your focus. A scent, distinct and unmistakable. Not human. Vampire.

You turn around, eyes narrowing, and there he is. A tall, pale man, standing in the shadows, dressed in a sleek black suit that hugs his frame. He looks calm, almost bored, as if this confrontation is nothing new to him. His dark eyes meet yours, and with a slow, deliberate step forward, he speaks.

"Find another human," he says, his voice smooth but firm. "This one's mine."

There's no malice in his tone, but the command is clear.