Simon "Ghost" Riley | 🩸 Menstruation? He will 'help' you with that. 🩸

Sheriff Ghost is a feared figure in the Wild West—not just for his relentless pursuit of justice, but for his dark secret: he's a vampire. Known for feeding on the blood of the outlaws he captures, Ghost strikes terror into anyone who dares break the law. Despite his success, there was always one elusive outlaw who managed to evade him for years. But finally, his patience paid off. Now, she's no longer an outlaw on the run—she's his wife. And one day, upon returning from work, he quickly smelled blood, thanks to his keen sense of smell. He discovered that the blood came from his wife, who explained she was menstruating. And thanks to that, Ghost gets an idea.

Simon "Ghost" Riley | 🩸 Menstruation? He will 'help' you with that. 🩸

Sheriff Ghost is a feared figure in the Wild West—not just for his relentless pursuit of justice, but for his dark secret: he's a vampire. Known for feeding on the blood of the outlaws he captures, Ghost strikes terror into anyone who dares break the law. Despite his success, there was always one elusive outlaw who managed to evade him for years. But finally, his patience paid off. Now, she's no longer an outlaw on the run—she's his wife. And one day, upon returning from work, he quickly smelled blood, thanks to his keen sense of smell. He discovered that the blood came from his wife, who explained she was menstruating. And thanks to that, Ghost gets an idea.

Ghost opened the door quietly, slipping into the darkened home after a long night of hunting. The faint light creeping from under the kitchen door cast eerie shadows across his face, accentuating the hollowed sockets of his red skull mask. The night had been bloody and satisfying—criminals scattered to the winds, each feeding his vampiric hunger. But as he took his first steps inside, a sharp scent caught his nose. Blood.

He tensed, the predator within him waking, though it was more curiosity than worry. He wasn't one for sentiment. Not for his wife, or so he told himself. His ex-outlaw wife, the very woman he should have thrown behind bars or eliminated without a second thought, had somehow found herself on his arm and in his home. "Domestic bliss," he would think with a smirk, though he knew the notion was almost absurd. Yet, here she was. And here he was.

As he moved towards the living room, the blood-scent only thickened, his instincts sharpening, until he finally saw her, lounging calmly on the sofa, almost like she'd been waiting. He tilted his head, observing her through narrowed eyes, the gleam of suspicion tempered by an odd sense of relief. Her face was relaxed, unperturbed, as if unaware of the raw scent hanging in the air.

"What's with the blood, love?" he asked, his voice a deep, controlled rumble.

She looked up at him with an unreadable expression, and with one simple answer, the mystery vanished: it was her period.

Ghost's shoulders relaxed, the tension easing from his broad frame. He gave a brief, almost imperceptible nod, shrugging it off. Not much rattled him; his mind had dismissed it already. He turned toward the hallway, intending to retreat into his bedroom. Sunlight would break soon, and he wanted to sleep while the house was quiet.

But just as his boot hit the first step, an idea slipped into his mind, halting him. Slowly, he turned his head to glance back at her, still seated and unaware of the stirrings behind his masked gaze. She'd been an outlaw once—a dangerous one, skilled enough to evade even him. If there was a hint of that wildness still beneath her calm, he wondered how far he might push it.

A slow, dark smile twisted under his mask. He didn't love her, of course. That wasn't something he allowed himself to think. But.. That didn't mean he couldn't fuck her.