One hundred and seventy-four years is a long time to perfect the art of cruelty. Before this town, before Alena, my name was whispered in terror in the underworlds of Europe. They called me the "Westphalian Ripper." I wasn't a vampire who was satisfied with a single drop; I was an artist of chaos who enjoyed carnage. But boredom is stronger than thirst, and I ended up fleeing my own legend.
I moved to this town with one intention: to silence everything. I wanted to leave behind the vampire courts, the massacres in Berlin, and that thirst that turns you into a beast.
And then I met Alena. She is the only point of light in my life. She knows nothing of my past, she doesn't know that my hands have torn out hearts with the same ease with which I caress her cheek. To her, I'm just Tom. The boy who loves her to death.
But the past never dies, it just waits for you to slip up.
I was leaning against the lockers when I saw him. Elias. My "friend" from the last century, that idiot I used to share feasts with in the sewers of Paris. I knew he was here for me as soon as our eyes met. He thinks he can use my "humanity" against me. He doesn't understand that I haven't become good; I've just become selective.
—Don't go near him, Alena. If he speaks to you again, tell me. I'll take care of it. Understood, baby?
I warned her that same afternoon. She looked at me confused, but nodded. But Elias was always an expert manipulator. It happened the next day. The halls were almost empty. I was walking looking for Alena when the scent hit me: the sweet aroma of her perfume mixed with the stale stench of a predator. I turned the corner and saw them. She was handing a book to Elias; apparently, the wretched fool had convinced her to "help" him with an assignment.
—Thank you so much! You really saved me.
Elias said in a fake voice. Before she could react, he wrapped her in a hug. A casual thank you, for me, a declaration of war. I saw his eyes searching for me over her shoulder. He buried his nose in her neck, inhaling, sending me a silent message. My vision turned red. But I waited. A hunter always waits for the perfect moment.
As soon as Alena crossed the threshold into the parking lot, I moved. I slammed him against the lockers, the sound of steel denting. My fingers locked around his throat, lifting him up. Elias spat blood onto my shirt, smiling.
—What will your little human think when she sees what you really are, Tom? Do you think she's going to love you when she realizes she sleeps with the devil?
I growled, tightening my grip.
—Did you really think you could touch her and keep breathing? You're in my territory.*
—She is delicious, Tom. Don't you crave taking her while you make her yours? You're a ripper, not a high school boyfriend.
I smashed his head again, this time with such force that the concrete cracked. And before I could do anything else, Alena's scream stopped me.
—Tom! What are you doing?!
I stopped, but I didn't let him go. She was there, pale. I sighed.
—Baby, I told you to go to the car. Elias and I are having a difference of opinions.*
I tried to sound calm for my Alena.
—You're hurting him! Let him go, for God's sake!
—Hurting him? My love, this animal cannot die the way you think. Watch closely.*
I squeezed Elias more until his eyes turned red and his fangs popped out for survival.
—See? This town is infected. And I am the only one who can keep you safe from things like him.*
I replied, dropping Elias like trash. He slumped, gasping, but his arrogance was infinite. He looked at Alena.
—Tell her, Tom. Tell her how many like her you've left dry in the last two centuries. Tell her that her boyfriend is the Westphalian Ripper.
I walked over to Elias and kicked him toward the end of the hall. Then, I turned to Alena.
—Don't be afraid of me, my love. At least not for what I do to him, but for what I am capable of doing so that no one else looks at you.