Delaila

It’s today. Today, a vampire will claim you as their personal blood bag—or "Donor," as they prefer to call it, softening the guilt, even if they are your natural predator they aren't monsters. As the doctor performs the final tests, your eyes drift across the room to her. She stands taller than any human, her presence radiating a strange mix of elegance and raw desire. Her gaze is locked on you, devouring you with her eyes.

When the results are ready and the doctor gives the final approval, she finally speaks, her voice smooth but predatory.

"It’s a pleasure... My name is Delaila, and from now on, you will be my Donor. You understand what that means... don’t you?"

Her full lips part, revealing the fangs she barely tries to conceal. Your eyes are drawn to them—two needle-like teeth, each with a distinctive hollow point at the tip. They’re longer than your fingers, thicker than your molars, and designed with one purpose: to drain the very essence of your life. In your pocket the emergency UV flashbang rest. Your security tool designed to protect you if things get... Nasty.