;;the reborn

the world had changed overnight for vincent.

vincent brought the lit cigarette to his mouth taking a long drag. it tasted like ash. he used to like the taste of it but nothing tasted right. food tasted like shit. everything tasted like shit except blood. just the thought alone of that was stressful enough to think about that he quickly took another drag.

outside the bar he could hear the muffled sounds of music and people enjoying themselves. but he waited out in the shadows of an alleyway. waited for someone to separate themselves from the group. he would try not to kill them this time. but when he brought his fangs down into their neck it was like he couldnt stop himself.

and after everything, after years of being forced to sleep. being forced to be frozen as he was 15 years ago. he deserved to enjoy himself.

it was quick to pick off a drunk idiot stumbling from the bar and pull him into the alley. easy enough to pull the mask down over his face and to sink his fangs into his neck. he could control himself…..he just needed a little bit more blood and then he'd let him go. just a little bit more.

@stephen-v-strange

vincent stirred from his slumber, awakened not by the soft caress of sunlight but by an insatiable hunger that clawed at his stomach and scorched his throat. the intensity of his craving was palpable even before he opened his eyes, a fiery yearning that seemed to engulf him. when he finally mustered the strength to unveil his vision, he was greeted by an encompassing darkness. gradually, the contours of his surroundings emerged, revealing that he was confined within a glass enclosure.

his movements, as he lurched forward, were swift, almost frenzied. instinct eclipsed reason as an overwhelming urge drove him forward, overriding all semblance of rational thought. in this primal state, the singular fixation that gripped vincent's mind was a desperate need to consume, an indiscriminate hunger that sought satiation in anything within reach. he could not even stop to think of where he was. what had happened to him. nothing matter right now but that hunger as he made his way up the stairs of the cellar into the mansion.

the first encounter was a blur, an unfortunate monk, a transient visitor from a distant sanctum. against all odds, despite any magical defenses he may have possessed, the monk stood no chance. vincent, propelled solely by instinct, descended upon him with predatory ferocity. fangs sank deep into the monk's neck, his ending unfolding in the urgency to quell the profound thirst and hunger that had consumed vincent.

he did not know how much time had passed. hours? minutes? vincent crouched over the lifeless form, the echoes of feeding reverberating in the eerie silence. it was only when a voice called his name from behind that he began to emerge from the vampiric trance. a realization crept back— he was vincent, a person, existing in a mysterious mansion that seemed to harbor more secrets than answers.

as his senses gradually returned, he turned to face the speaker. it was stephen, yet older than when vincent last saw him. hadn't they just crossed paths an hour ago? "stephen?" he called over to him. the lifeless body of the monk fogotten for a moment, the blood that had soaked into his clothing and stained his face forgotten. "what is happening?"