𝔊𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔟𝔶𝔢𝔰

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If you want to keep everything, you will retain what you want to preserve.

- Gustav Heinemann (1899-1976)





I stood at the side of my bed and let my grey-blue eyes glide over the fresh bed linen, lost in thought.

Scarlet red.

A bright and vibrant shade.

The colour of blood.

Carefully, my fingers lifted and felt the frayed fabric in the middle of my bed curtain, which was attached to the frame with a white cord.

The colour of Demetri's eyes.

And... my future ones.



In the night sky, the ashen grey full moon, illuminated by the sun, shines in its monthly splendour. Its light penetrated the bedroom and was reflected in the glass panes.

In a matter of seconds, a dark shadow fell across the moon's incident light and formed a human shape on the shimmering stone floor.

He stepped gracefully and silently over the threshold.

Pitch-black hair slicked long and smooth over his shoulders and blended seamlessly with the deep black colour of his cloak. His milky red eyes glided inconsequentially over the simple modern furnishings of the room until they finally fixed on the large four-poster bed to his right.

Two more dark apparitions lined up on either side of the pitch-black figure. Each of the three pairs of red eyes connected with the young girl, who slept unsuspectingly amidst the thin sheets.

"What a beguilingly enchanting scent...even for a human." a male voice whispered, slowly stepping closer like a stalking cat of prey on the hunt.

The dark blond man at his side gulped as his darkening eyes seemed to catch the girl's every movement and exhaled breath. The black leather of his gloves creaked under the clenching of his clenched fingers as his nose began to quiver more.

"It's a miracle that her blood has remained hidden from me for years, Master," Demetri replied without taking his eyes off the sleeping girl. The man with the jet-black hair nodded.

𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕿𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖊 - 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝕻𝖆𝖘𝖙Where stories live. Discover now