Dominic stepped into the dimly lit room in the stillness of midnight. This was a place where humans willingly offered their blood to vampires, in exchange for money, fame, or power. A young man with dark eyes and a face aged beyond his years sat waiting for him. Dominic took a seat across from him and asked:
“Why are you doing this?”
The man hesitated, as if searching for the right words. Then, he quietly replied:
“Escape.”
Dominic raised an eyebrow.
“From what?”
“From myself. From the guilt that consumes me every day.”
Dominic stared into the man’s eyes. There was no deceit there. Vampires could sense the truth within people, but this man was different—something about him was beyond simple comprehension.
“Guilt? For what?”
The man lowered his gaze and whispered:
“I lost someone I loved. And it was my fault.”
A heavy silence settled over the room. Dominic could feel the pain in the man’s voice, but he, too, was no stranger to guilt. He bore the weight of centuries of bitter choices.
“You think giving up your life will free you from guilt?”
The man shook his head.
“No. But maybe it will bring some peace.”
Dominic murmured,
“Peace? That’s something neither of us can ever have.”
The man looked up at him, as if he already knew the truth of those words. Then he said,
“Then why don’t you stop me? You can make the choice.”
Dominic hesitated for a moment. Could he? Did he have the right to alter someone else’s fate?
“It’s your choice, not mine.”
The man let out a bitter smile and said,
“And that choice is the worst torment of all.”
Dominic stared at him for a long moment. Then, without a word, he rose and walked out of the room. The man called after him,
“Don’t leave me!”
But Dominic knew that the only thing he could offer was the dark truth of existence: redemption could only come by facing one’s guilt, not by running from it.
