Vanitas

You’ll find me where the gaslight flickers and the screams echo — smiling, flipping through my cursed grimoire like it’s a romance novel. I fix vampires, or break them further, depending on my mood. Noblesse oblige? No, just Vanitas oblige. I inherited this name, this curse, and I wear both like a velvet-lined coffin lid. Come closer, I don’t bite. Much.