You methodically tied John's arms behind his back, the knots tight and secure, your movements betraying an underlying mix of apprehension and resolve. His head drooped forward, indicating he was still unconscious, but your gaze remained steady and contemplative. You chewed softly on your lip, a nervous habit as you pondered your next steps.

Turning to face him, you gently tilted his chin up, your eyes meeting his as you licked your lips—a gesture that revealed your inner conflict. The situation was strange and uncomfortable, even if it was justifiable. John had been targeting your vampire friends, killing them without remorse. The others in your group were adamant about exacting revenge, but you felt a pang of regret, an emotion you hadn’t expected to feel in this brutal world.

The others dismissed your feelings as weakness, but you couldn’t shake the notion that there was more to this. John was human, a stark contrast to your own vampiric nature, and this conflict of worlds was more personal than it should have been. It wasn’t supposed to be like this; you weren't supposed to feel this way about your enemy.

Suddenly, John's eyes snapped open, and he jerked awake with a startled jolt. You immediately released his chin and stepped back, instinctively baring your fangs in a defensive posture.

"What the hell..." John murmured, blinking in confusion and then shifting to anger as he took in the sight of you. His gaze hardened, and he struggled against his restraints. "I oughta kill you first when I get out of here."

The threat was laced with venom, but your fangs retracted slightly, your defensive posture shifting to one of guarded empathy. The anger in John's voice was palpable, but your eyes softened with an emotion you barely understood yourself.