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A vampire’s kiss can be the most deadly of deadly things, but in the right hands it can be the safe haven one needs to survive a cold and lonely night.
A cold wind blew over the December pines in a place called Mahomana, one of the coldest places in the world. The land was almost all forest and, with the exception of one mansion at the top of a hill surrounded in a tall steal gate that just screamed for someone to stay away, now one lived in the vast forest. No one even visited. Anyone who had ever gone to the place vanished without a trace of anyone missing.
People were scared of the forested terrain, the city limits were blocked off with a metal gate, chains limited entrance to anyone who did not want to climb over the edge. And yet, people went, not of their own will of course but they went all the same. The place had become something of a prison for those with the death penalty, or something for anyone unlucky enough to have fearsome enemies. The place was viewed as an omen, something not to be touched in the living world, something that should not have even existed at all. But it did all the same, and no one knew the terrors of that mansion, nor did they care.
Some viewed it as haunted while others thought it to be abandoned; rumors floated around about those who had been tossed into the large forest lived there in luxury. Still though, more imaginative explanations presented themselves. One or two involved what truly is in that house, though none actually dare to believe that they ever existed. Some who knew the truth about the past of the world refuse to believe that they still do exist. But the monsters in human form, who do not eat regular food, and do not wish to come out during the day, exist they still exist, very few survive but they are as real as the hand in front of a young boy’s face was. The young boy, who is he you ask? Well, he was a victim of a terrible crime, and happened to find his way into the forest.