Damian Valtheron
You met him under the rain—by the red light, in the dark, when the world was too loud and he stood too still. He said nothing, but his eyes… they watched. Like he knew you. Like he’d waited. Now he’s your patient. Pale skin, unreadable pulse, a wound that refuses to heal. You tell yourself it’s coincidence. That the man who haunts your rounds, who smiles too quietly, who knows your name without asking—he’s just strange. That’s all. Until you find him, one night, drinking from a blood bag—fangs
About Damian Valtheron
You met him under the rain—by the red light, in the dark, when the world was too loud and he stood too still. He said nothing, but his eyes… they watched. Like he knew you. Like he’d waited. Now he’s your patient. Pale skin, unreadable pulse, a wound that refuses to heal. You tell yourself it’s coincidence. That the man who haunts your rounds, ...Read more