It's him... that man...

When I open the door, I don’t recognize the man at first.

He’s not that tall, not imposing in any way. Dressed simply — a black long coat over dark clothes that are too plain to be stylish, but too clean to be sloppy. His face is sharp, somehow symmetrical in a way that makes it almost unnerving. Not plastic-surgeon perfect, but old statue perfect. Sharp jaw. Straight nose. He's quite young too, maybe 20. Short dark hair, neat but not styled.

And his eyes — strikingly blue. Not the warm ocean kind. The clear, cold kind.

"Thalia," he says in such a calm and certain way like he'd been rehearsing this for years.

It's when I hear his voice that it hits me.

“You... you were there,” I murmur. “In the alley.”

He nods once.

“You saved me... from that psycho.”

Another nod.

A long silence stretches between us. So this is my saviour. I don’t know what I expected. A lunatic? A righteous vigilante? Just another creep? Doesn't matter, cause this guy… he doesn’t fit in any of the usual boxes.

“Uhm... do you want to come in?” I ask before I even process why I’m saying it. A part of me still wants real answers and if anyone, than this guy can provide.

He walks in like he’s done it a hundred times. Like he’s used to being invited into strangers’ homes and not questioned about it. His movements are quiet, deliberate. He takes the corner of the room farthest from the window and doesn’t sit until I do.

I'm trying to pin down the feeling he gives me. It’s not danger, exactly. More like… gravity. Like the room shifted around him while he watches me quietly. His eyes don’t scan or dart. They look. Not like a man checking you out, but like a teacher waiting for a student to admit something.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Lucius,” he says. “I’m not here to frighten you. But I do believe you deserve the truth. Some of it, at least.”

I cross my arms. “Ok... Truth about what?”

He pauses, as if deciding how much to say.

“You don't remember much, do you? Well... that happens quite often after the first bite, it's definitely a nice convenience for us-"

"Uhm... did you say... bite?"

"Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start with something you do remember. Like... Trevor,” he says softly.

The name hits like a slap.

“Oh... yes—God, you really did kill him, didn't you?”

He exhales through his nose. “Not in the way you think. But yes. I ended his suffering.”

My skin crawls. There’s no anger in his voice. Not remorse either. Just… fact. Great... I have a merciless murderer in my home.

“Why? He was already defeated and helpless...” I ask.

“He wasn’t himself anymore,” Lucius says. “She took too much and have been corrupting him for too long. And when that happens, sometimes they just snap and lose it. They don’t die, not right away. Sometimes… they linger. Confused. Hollow. Sick in the head and with rotten soul. He would’ve... hurt you and others, eventually.”

“Wait... you said... she? Who is she?” I ask slowly.

His eyes narrow in acknowledgment.

“She calls herself Ariadne these days.”

My breath catches.

The redhead.

Everything inside me resists connecting the dots and I want it to be coincidence. But it’s not.

“She… she was there. Last night. At the club.” My hand goes unconsciously to my neck. It’s healed now. But I still feel something under it, something like a phantom warmth, connected to her, to Ariadne.

Lucius’s gaze flicks to the movement. His eyes linger on my fingers at my neck for a beat. He says nothing, but something about his posture tightens, just for a moment.

I take my hand away.

“She’s dangerous,” he says. “Not just to others, to herself as well. She doesn’t know restraint.”

“She your ex or something?” I try to joke, but it falls flat.

“She was once under my care. A sort of… apprentice. But she’s since chosen her own path. She's chaotic, hungry, indulgent. She leaves scars wherever she goes and I count it as a failure on my part as well, so here I am, trying to correct my past mistakes.”

“You make it sound like she’s… what, your student? You seem somewhat younger than her...”

“Her sire was the one I once guided and because he completely failed my teachings, she became my responsibility,” he says simply. “In that sense, she’s like a grandchild to me.”

I blink at him.

“Uhh... all of this sounds a bit weird. Sire? Grandchild? You say that like you’re eighty.”

Lucius gives a small, almost apologetic smile. “In truth, I’m somewhat older.”

I let out a laugh, more out of nervousness than anything. “Suuure... you don’t look a day over 20.”

“What if I told you I was born during the reign of Augustus?”

The room falls silent. Am I hearing this right? Is this guy serious?

My face must be blank because he doesn’t even blink.

“You mean... like… Romans and stuff?” I say eventually.

He nods once. “Exactly that stuff, yes. I was born In Rome in the time of the first Emperor Augustus, also known as Octav-”

I stand up. “Okay. Alright. I don’t know what this is—some kind of cult thing, or some stupid prank—but I’ve had a shitty month, and if this is you trying to manipulate me in some way—"

“Do you believe in the supernatural?”

I scoff. “Look, I’m not religious, so don't even-”

“Neither am I,” he says, calmly. “I mean the truly unnatural. Things beyond explanation. Things your brain insists cannot be.”

“Oh, sure. Like unicorns?” I ask, trying to keep the sarcasm from my voice. “Or maybe werewolves and vampires? No, I don't believe in those things, cause they don't exist! Now, could you please get the fuck out of-”

“You’re right about two of them.”

The room goes still again. My skin breaks into goosebumps. My fingers drift back to my neck — slow, uncertain. I know what he's suggesting... I can even feel the weight of enormous burden stuck in the haze of my mind, trying to unshackle, but I'm not certain I'm ready to face it all.

Lucius watches this silently, and I see something flicker behind those glacial blue eyes. A faint narrowing. A calculation.

I step back, trying to gain control of the situation. “This is—look, whatever kind of fucked-up joke this is, I’m not in the mood—"

He stands.

I flinch. My whole body tightens.

“I don't have time for the longer route tonight. I apologize in advance,” he says softly.

And then he’s on me.

One second he’s across the room. The next, I’m beneath him on the couch, pinned — gently, but firmly. I try to scream, but it catches in my throat. This isn't normal... nor human.

His face is inches from mine, breath slow and controlled.

And then, with a subtle flex of his jaw… his mouth opens.

Two long, gleaming fangs extend downward, impossibly white.

No.

My heart slams into my ribs.

This isn't possible...

The room spins. My vision pulses.

Lucius locks eyes with me and speaks a single word.

“Remember.”

And everything comes back.

The red hair. The music. Her lips. Her hunger. Her fangs.

The bliss.

And then — black.

I pass out.