Can you blame them for being so bloodthirsty? So careless of life and death? With what they are, not so much as a soul could reflect on his own reflection, and there was something dead and drab about the photographs. Photographs didn’t quite work for what they wanted, or needed. A portrait, paints, an artist seeing every detail, pouring out his heart, and a bit of blood to seal the deal.
So, here is our hall of vampires. You may recognize some faces, but I would keep that to myself. You mentioned, I think, a certain name, the Mademoiselle d’Angelic?
Tale Told 