They not like us
George's eyes fluttered open, his vision slowly coming into focus. The first thing he noticed was the unfamiliar ceiling above him - cracked and water-stained, a far cry from his own bedroom. As his senses sharpened, he became aware of the musty smell permeating the air, a mixture of old wood, dust, and something else he couldn't quite place.
'Where am I?' he thought, his mind still foggy from what felt like a deep, long sleep.
The sound of metal clanking against metal caught his attention, followed by a soft, melodic humming. The scent of something cooking wafted through the air, a stark contrast to the overall mustiness of the place.
George sat up slowly, his body aching in ways he didn't think were possible for a vampire. He looked down at himself, noticing dried blood caked on his skin and clothes. Flashes of the brutal fight in the underground chamber flitted through his mind.