Dom M needed, vampire on vampire, any gender, plot & character focused, soft SM

I have a bad habit of sneaking up on people, sometimes.

It is easy for most supernatural beings to enter this house. But that is mainly because the one who lives here is easily strong enough to fight off any intruder. There are so many historical treasures in the room of this old demon Sir! I wonder how many unfortunate thieves have made their last crusade into here?

Master of the house is sleeping on his desk. This old man still writes his letters with ink and a quill. How touching. He quickly senses my presence in the room, and suddenly turns around in his chair. I stand there like a fool.

“Oh. It’s you.” He lets out a relieved sigh. He looks at me with a face that gives away too much pity. We haven’t seen each other since the night I found out about Leo, and this old fool still looks at me like it was his fault. He is looking at my coat, something about my leather coat is giving him the biggest deja vu. “I, uh, I see you are wearing his…“

“Yes, this was my brother’s coat.” I say with a fast and tense voice, one that doesn’t sound like mine at all. There is a long silence after that. My throat hurts. My face is hot. I felt like saying so many things, but if I spoke now, I fear something terrible might happen. I wanted to say it was all right, that we knew something like this could happen.
And at that terrible moment, I realized it was happening indeed. I wouldn’t be able to hold back my blood tears anymore.

I go by the nickname Mist, to protect my true identity. I am 169cm tall, and the blood that ran in my mortal veins was partly dutch and mostly finnish, and for that I have deep black hair, a skin already pale as death, even before being made into a vampire. The look on my resting face has always been beautiful but a bit nonchalant, and my features have been described as androgynous. My mortal body was weak and skinny. I was given an immortal life at the age of 19. I'm a product of the nineties, a generation X'r.

It’s not that I was made into a vampire against my will – it just kind of happened. Targeted by a megalomaniac four-thousand year old vampire. He didn’t choose me, didn’t do it because he loved me. Nothing like that... Arvi was already so old that he very seldomly fed anymore. But at that time he was badly burnt, severely wounded and so weak overall that I was given an immortal life only because he was just strong enough to do it, and I happened to pass by. I was made into a vessel of vengeance toward those who had tossed him into the sun.

One night I woke up in a forrest with a terrible pain and no idea how I got there. And my body was no longer alive. The next several days I got to observe how I grew pale, a pair of teeth fell out and I painfully grew fangs instead. My hair took an even deeper shade of black velvet and I felt physically strong and in my vague bloodlust I had my first kill, a couple of unfortunate Jehovas witnesses. And even though I was alone and scared, waiting to wake up, being raised by television I immediately knew what I was. I quietly watched my own physical death as my mortal life had been quite small and meaningless anyway. When the blood hit my throat, I knew. The world no longer had anything in it that would interest me more than human blood. Giving and taking it was the only sexual act I would be want to perform anymore, and it was absolutely necessary for my survival.

And how painful from there on it was for me to be surrounded by people. Being a part of society became impossible. I set my condo on fire and faked my death, wishing my brother wouldn’t come looking for me. I was acting on impulse, and looking back my actions seem hasty. (I tell you, a vampire seldomly panics.) I didn’t even leave my hometown, I couldn’t do it. I hunted for a victim with a body build simular to mine, and burned her along the condo. It was on the news. Student dies in a fire accident. The body was too badly burnt to be recognized. However my family got through it, I do not know and I would be lying if I told you I was real torn up about it. Everything suddenly seemed all small and petty, only love received from my own kind would touch my heart. Later on, when I was reunited with my maker, Arvi would always call me “his dear child.”