The air in his spacious, minimally furnished apartment felt colder than usual, a chill that seeped into his bones. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the sheets pooling around his waist, his skin slick with a sheen of sweat. Despite the centuries that had passed, the pain of that night was as sharp and raw as if it had been yesterday. He was a vampire, eternally caught between the human emotions he was supposed to have shed and the monstrous desires that came with his cursed existence.

As he stood and moved across the room, his reflections were caught in the large mirror that dominated the wall opposite his bed. He looked at himself, at the too-pale skin and the eyes that sometimes seemed too bright, too vivid against the stark black of his hair. He was a creature of beauty and death, fashioned by tragedy and the dark whim of Lucien, his creator, who had found him when he was nothing but a boy lost in grief and rage.

Cal's existence had been a long, lonely vigil of centuries, marked by brief moments of connections that burned too bright and faded too fast. He remembered Victoria, her laughter like a balm to his tormented soul, until the weight of immortality had driven her to madness and death, her blood on his hands as she begged him to let her go.

The memory was enough to make him turn away from the mirror, disgust curling in his gut. He needed to feed; the hunger was a gnawing ache that crept up on him during moments of weakness. But first, he needed air, a moment to gather his thoughts and steel himself against the endless night that awaited him outside.

As he left the apartment, the last thing he saw was the faint outline of his reflection in the glass, a ghostly reminder of the man he once was, trapped forever in the gaze of the monster he had become.