Obscured Passion

HE

As everyone outside was immersed in the joyous occasion, inside the dining room, four figures sat around a table, their features subtly betraying their true nature as vampires. While the festivities unfolded elsewhere, they remained unfazed, engrossed in their own private world. Their eyes glinted with an otherworldly allure as they indulged in their drinks, seemingly unaffected by the events transpiring outside. Despite the celebratory atmosphere permeating the air, these vampires found solace in each other's company, content to revel in the darkness that surrounded them.

Person 1: "How much more time will it take?"

Person 2: "Why do you have any place to go, Drake? Let's just enjoy your drink."

Drake: "I don't, Venancia. And these drinks are atrocious. I'd rather lick the dirt off my shoes than drink this."

Person 3: "Come on, Drake, lighten up. It's not about the taste, it's about the company."

Person 4: "Yeah, besides, we're vampires. We can handle a little bad taste. It's the thrill of the hunt that really gets us going."

Drake: "Easy for you to say, Vincent."

Person 3: "Hey, at least it's better than that synthetic blood they tried to pass off as the real thing last time. Remember that, Drake?"

Drake: "Don't remind me, Steve. I still have nightmares about it."

Vincent: "You know, this peace thing is starting to feel like a cage. I miss the thrill of the hunt, the adrenaline rushing through my veins as I take down my prey."

Drake: "Tell me about it. These ceremonies are so dull. And the blood they serve here? Tastes like watered-down mud."

Venancia: "I can't stand it. Pretending to be civil with them, when all I want to do is sink my teeth into their throats."

Suddenly, a deep, commanding voice cut through their conversation like a blade through silence. "Brave, aren't you, trying to get funny?" The words hung heavy in the air, laden with authority and a hint of danger. Venancia felt her heart skip a beat as she turned slowly to face the source of the voice, her breath catching in her throat. His eyes ablaze with an intensity that sent shivers down their spines. "Ven, tell me, do you have that much courage?" he continued, his tone brooking no nonsense. Caught off guard, Ven stammered, "N-no, we were just..., you know, lightening the mood." But her words didn't have much effect, and an uneasy silence descended upon the room, thick with tension and apprehension.

With a solemn tone, he reiterated the significance of their oath, his words dripping with the weight of centuries-old tradition and unbreakable loyalty. "We are bound by our oath," he declared, his voice resolute and unwavering. "To betray it is to invite the wrath of our ancestors and the fury of our kind." As he spoke, his gaze bore into each of them, a silent warning of the consequences of treachery. "Remember," he continued, his voice now a low growl, "those who break their oath will face the full force of our justice. And I will not hesitate to give punishment to those who dare to defy our sacred bond." The air grew heavy with tension as his words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of betrayal.

As he left "When did he come? I didn't even hear him," Steve whispered, his voice barely above a breath. Drake nodded in agreement. "He walks so silently, even the wind can't hear him," he murmured, his eyes darting nervously to the doorway. Ven chuckled nervously, her heart still racing from the encounter. "Oh man, he looks so good when he's scary. I wish I could have him," she said looking a the door. 

"Oh, Ven, my darling," Vincent said, "Even if you are a beautiful woman, captivating to anyone's eyes, you can't melt that rock."  Ven sighed and continued drinking her drink.