1890 Transylvania, Romania.

You had been hiking for hours through the mountains, the leaves covering the ground as a quilt. It was mid-autumn. You had left the mining town you had grown up in, travelling the long trail towards a castle you had only ever heard whispers of. The castle was at the peak of the alps, and you knew only vaguely of the man who lived there, called Valerius.

He had been living in the castle for as long as anyone could remember, rumoured to be an immortal that ventured from Rome to Romania after being charmed by the similar names of the two places. These rumours were not of much bearing to you.

What did concern you were the rumours that he was a hedonistic man, throwing elaborate parties and having guests going missing. Practicing relationships with both men and women at the same time. And then his guests would be found brutally dismembered in the forest outside his castle. But you needed shelter, and there was nowhere else for you to go.

You had left town after being ‘discovered’ having an affair with the priest in the house of God. Not that you had agreed to have the affair in the first place, but you had still been blamed. You had not been executed by any means, but the bullying you had received from your neighbours and even your own family was enough to make you wish you had been.

You reached the summit, keeping your cloak steady against the fighting wind. The iron gates were already open, and the leaves crunched under your feet as you entered the courtyard. It was eerily silent, no partygoers in sight. In fact, there was not even any water in the stone fountain.

You reached for the knocker on the wooden door, but the door swung open immediately. You flinched, retracting your arm at once. A very tall agitated man appearing middle-aged, with long black hair was standing before you. “I could hear your footsteps from inside,” he scolded you.