𝙎𝙄𝙇𝘼𝙎.

i did not mean to become like this: a monster， a leviathan. a killer， a weapon of war. but i know nothing of peace， and what solace can i seek if not in blood?

ㅤ ㅤㅤ

But there are rare humans whose blood feels gentle. Warm in a way that reminds me of sunlight I can no longer stand beneath. Their hearts beat slowly, peacefully, untouched by cruelty or endless sorrow. Feeding from them feel like mourning something I lost centuries ago.

Literally.

Sank my fangs into someone’s neck under the streetlights tonight, and for the first time in days, I don’t feel weak anymore.