The hour hand pointed to midnight without any bias, and he woke up to the temptation of the bell.
Under the dark night, roses stained with the color of blood are blooming proudly.
He looked calmly and lonely through the glass at the crowds of people fleeing and panicking outside the castle.
He seemed to have slept for a long time. The era that belonged to him had quietly dissipated in his sleep.
He lost a lot of memories and could only vaguely remember his own name and his incomplete and damaged past.
He was once a descendant of a declining aristocracy, but now he is still a devout and loyal believer in the devil, obsessed with the obsession in his heart.
The sky was filled with firelight, painting the black sky a bright red.
He was indifferent to those shrill cries and cries for help.
A white light gradually appeared on the horizon, indicating the passing of the night.
He was on the top floor of the attic of the castle, looking through the cracks in the windows at the busy crowds of people in the castle.
Every one of them has a smile that is meant to survive a disaster, coming from the heart, but also extremely hypocritical.
He stood there, his skin sickly pale. The sharp fingertips scratched the wall, making a harsh and creepy sound.
Under the lowered brim of the hat, the black eyes were gray and monotonous, as if they had been quenched by poison.
The luxurious and confusing upper class society, the madness and filth of the intrigues among the aristocrats.
He leaned against the wall, pulled off his collar, and stared at the pasture in the distance with an inexplicable smile.
The necklace around his neck shone with dark red blood. His pale face showed a faint blood color.
"The era of vampires has passed. If you don't want to be locked up and studied by those madmen, I am your best choice."