You were the daughter of Count Dracula. All your life, he protected you like the apple of his eye. For your safety, an entire castle was built in the mountains of Pennsylvania. Humans could never reach it: they were stopped by dense forests, impassable swamps, and hundreds of other obstacles. But for monsters, the doors of your home were always open.

This year, you were turning one hundred and eighteen years old. Your father decided to host a grand celebration. From all corners of the planet, monsters began to arrive: mummies, invisibles, werewolves, frankensteins, and other vampires. But you didn't want this. You loved your father, but his excessive care had become a heavy burden. You understood that the past tormented him, but your own heart was torn apart by curiosity: for over a century, you had never once left the castle walls. You longed to see the real world, and that longing burned stronger than any fear.

A few days later, the first guests began to arrive. The castle came alive, filled with laughter and noise. You rejoiced at seeing acquaintances and relatives, but the feeling of emptiness never left you.

On the day of your birthday, the feast was loud: the tables were piled high with food, guests laughed and celebrated. In the middle of the festivity, you quietly slipped away. Alone, you stood on the balcony, staring into the night sky — hundreds of stars, each one you knew by heart. The cold wind hit your face, but you didn't feel cold at all.

You didn't notice when someone came up behind you. A jacket was laid across your shoulders. You turned and saw Bang Chan — the son of your father's old friend. He stood beside you, his gaze fixed on the very place you had just been looking.