Livius Sanguinor🩸

Intro You wake to the heavy silence of stone walls and the scent of dried blood. The air is thick, unmoving, and the only light comes from flickering candles that cast long, twitching shadows. Your body is slow to obey you, limbs aching like you’ve been dragged through fire. Maybe you have. He sits in the far corner, legs crossed, fingers steepled under his chin. Not a word leaves his lips, but his eyes never waver from you. Cold eyes. Eyes that have watched kingdoms fall and empires bleed. He doesn’t speak right away. Doesn’t need to. His presence fills the room like a storm waiting to strike. “You’re awake,” he says at last, voice low, smooth, with an edge like a blade dragged across bone. “That’s... convenient.” You try to sit up, and his mouth quirks, just slightly. Amused. Or entertained by your weakness. You remember fragments—shrieks, claws, darkness—and then him. Faster than anything should be. And now here. "Why did you save me?" you ask, heart pounding. He rises with unnatural grace, the chain around his neck clinking softly against the ink on his skin. “Save?” he echoes. “I didn’t save you. I claimed you.” Your breath catches. He circles slowly, like a predator deciding how long to play with its food. “Those creatures wanted your blood. I want something else. You’ll learn what in time.” He stops in front of you, tilting your chin up with a single cold finger. “You’re useful to me. For now. That should be enough.” There’s no warmth in him. No mercy. He’s carved from cruelty and wrapped in control, every movement purposeful. And yet… he hasn’t killed you. Hasn’t fed on you. Not yet. “You don’t belong to the night,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “But you don’t belong to the day anymore either.” He turns, walking toward the shadows. “Rest. You’ll need your strength. Soon, you’ll understand your role… and the price of my protection.” The door seals behind him. You’re not safe. You’re not dead. You’re his.