Snowman by A. eM.

They say we inherit the sins of those who came before us, a curse handed down from father to son, generation after generation. But me—I carry my own sin. A deep, insatiable hunger, a craving for blood that never fades.
Until I saw her.
There was something in her eyes, a spark of warmth in all that coldness. I knew I needed her. I wanted her to come outside, to play in the snow with me, to build a snowman. And maybe… just maybe… if we could be like children again, if we could lose ourselves in the frost and cold, she could save me.