𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗖𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗗𝗬 𝗢𝗙 𝗩𝗔𝗡𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗦 ━
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 midst of two realms of vampires and humans, it's easy to grow uneasy. It's not every day you get to see a land where both the undead and living co-exist...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
━━━━━━━━━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━━━━━━━━━
A knock was heard on her doorstep. Patterned, and frequent, three times per minute. It made its presence known as if trying to alarm the resident inside, to have them maybe go to the front yard and see what was causing such a ruckus in the early morning.
In this home, a particular woman lived inside. She was almost never seen. She was beautiful. She was quiet. She was direct and concise. Yet no matter how much her neighbors spoke with her, or anyone else, for that matter, no one could decipher her true nature.
It was almost enigmatic. Her [e/c] hues that glowed a purple shade on few moonlit nights, her [h/l] [h/c] hair that seemed to flow with the wind, her smooth, [s/c] skin that basked under the moonlight and dawning sun—it was inhuman yet attracted those around her.
What was strange of it all wasn't her angelic features or her possibly accursed nature, but it was that anyone who had a conversation with her swore to not know a thing about her. They could spend hours talking with her, getting to know each other, but at the end of it all, no one remembered a thing.
She was a mystery. Enchanting, charming, sweet, warm, cold, cursed, and appalling. She was all.
And here stood a mailman, tasked with delivering a letter of fine fabric to this woman who inhabited this home.
After what seemed an eternity, the white-coated wooden door was opened, its golden knob twisting as the woman walked out, her [h/l] [h/c] hair tied neatly in a bun, a few strands out of place.
"And to what do I owe the pleasure?" she said tiredly, her half-lidded [e/c] eyes landing on the tender, pale envelope of the mailman in front.
"For you, Ms. [L/N]," he said courteously, a slightly nervous tone underlaced, as he extended his hand, the letter held tightly beneath his gloved fingertips.
The woman pursed her lips, taking the envelope from the mailman's hands. She nodded, mouthing a silent thanks as she walked back inside her house, closing her door without making a sound.
Hurrying to her peach, soft fabric that was her couch, she sat on it, crossing one of her legs over the other in a casual manner.
Opening the envelope, she found a small letter, the paper a fine, sky blue with cerulean edges and a silver border. It was quite an elegant letter. She turned it around, reading the name of the sender, whose name was imprinted in a silver lining on the back of the letter.
╔══•●•══╗ 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐒 ╚══•●•══╝
"Vanitas, hm?" she murmured, curious at the name of said individual. "Certainly rings a bell." She then turned back to read the contents of the letter this supposed 'Vanitas' had sent.
