The Miserable Otherworldly Creatures.

A thousand years ago, when Floré, the witch turned demon, screamed out all the fury in her and created a parallel dimension to which she banished all the supernatural beings in Ohalo, she didn't put much thought into the world she created.

She didn't design it, not to talk of refining it. She just created a space vacuum and sent them into it. She wasn't bothered about their welfare. She wanted them away from the humans, and she didn't care what the place would spell for the creatures.

Well...

It spelt doom.

It spelt torture.

It spelt degradation. For all of them.

For a thousand years. Every second they spent in her prison, they suffered. It was a hell, a hell they had long given up trying to escape. A hell they didn't think they could one day escape.

The vampires, for lack of human or even animal blood to consume, thinned over the years. It wasn't merely body thinning, their very soul thinned. Their skin was normally pale, but a few centuries in there, it turned ashen. Their skin