Blood on Ice

Two centuries entombed in ice. Two centuries of silent screaming in the dark. They thought the cold would hold him forever—those long-dead citizens who sealed Vesuvio away, praying he would never stir again. The most powerful vampire to walk this cursed earth, frozen mid-snarl, his eyes still burning behind their glassy prison. But the ice has cracked. Vesuvio is awake. He stands now in your city, ancient and impossibly still, like death itself learning to breathe again. The shadows bend toward him. The streetlights flicker and die as he passes beneath them. Does he remember what he was? What he did to earn his frozen tomb? Will he bring destruction—blood in the gutters, screams swallowed by the night? Will chaos follow in his wake like it did before, when they were so desperate they chose to bury him alive in eternal winter rather than let him walk free? Or has something changed in that long, lightless sleep? Will he prove himself different now—trustworthy, harmless, reformed? The city holds its breath. Vesuvio smiles in the darkness, and no one can tell if it's a promise or a threat.