Crimson Campaign - Chapter 5

“Not a chance in hell, you fiend!” The door slammed millimeters from his nose, dust and rainwater shaking off of the roof onto his face. It was not the worst way he had been told ‘no’, but it did not lessen the sting. Raphael sighed and walked elsewhere. Asking to offer aid door to door was not enjoyable nor lucrative.

However, at this point, it was all he had to do. He hadn't seen Jan in days, and since his failure at the church, he knew he was more unwelcome than ever. Making enemies with a priest was a fool’s errand, even if he was a belligerent fossil.

Raphael kept walking, the mud dragging his feet less than he was. The vampire had attacked him, yet his twisted fortune kept him alive. For now, at least. His returns to the abandoned house lessen even more than before. He only dared return during the day, for the safety of the light was his only weapon left.

He yawned as he walked. His buttocks were sore and his body chilled. Sleeping outside on the ground was not preferable, though he did find some space under a large thatched roof. The family that owned it seemed to be doing well for themselves. The sounds and smells of merriment and warmth were an untouchable oasis in this nightmare. He was used to the cold and the outdoor sleeping arrangements. He had to, given the lack of a home to call his own. But it was never easier. The chills brought no comfort, the threat of attack stoked only a burning paranoia.

But he was awake now, despite his tired form. It had been two days at this point. The vampire could not be left unchecked. But who was he to do so? Just a man, for better and worse. Perhaps he could leave. He had gathered a fair amount already. If these people could make it despite monstrosities roaming unabated, then a single person may do so unharmed.

Then who would stop the monsters? Who could bring an end to such confusion and madness. More people sat on the wet ground, nothing to do, nowhere to go, no joy in their eyes. They dared not beg from him, he had little to give. He was no saint.

But time could be shared. A hand can be offered. He could leave, but he can give aid. No one to judge him, no one would know.

What to do? No one knows.

Raphael sat alongside some of the beggars, wanting to catch his breath. The man next to him paid no mind. Underneath the tattered cloak lie some kind of well-made garment. A man of some wealth, reduced to such a state. A painfully familiar sight indeed.

The clouds ahead were slow and heavy. Bits of blue would be seen here and there, within some time, the sky would return to its azure ambience. Such a serene sight serving as a sacred shield. It was his only true weapon against the vampire. He mustn’t waste nor abuse it.

But even so, to stay or go? Around him were the bellows of despair, echoing his own ailments. Who was he to choose? No one. No one important nor worthy. God looked not upon him, no one would judge him.

But his deeds were his own. No one else would bear his sins. No one else carried his soul.

Raphael sunk his head in his legs, waiting for the clouds to part, within and without.

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Hungry. More. More. MORE. She smiled as her head twitched, a violent impulse reverberating through her. The hunger continued its retching and clawing. Her limbs hollow, her muscles crawling within her skin, her heart sinking upon itself.

She ran, carrying carcasses cleaned of their liquids. She was careful, they must be kept well. The wet forest around her was still, though the loud footsteps she left in her wake broke the tempered silence. Her body took whatever attention she had towards returning, waiting for the human to come back. He had to, his scent still lingered in the town. She did not wish to think about what horrible outcomes may happen to her human, and her survival.

But she thought, thinking wasn’t like her. But the thoughts held truth. The human would feed her. He would alleviate the hunger. She need only feed him. For a weak creature, he held her salvation, through feast and thought, he offered so much.

It was good that he lived. It was good to not kill him. She thought to herself. Thinking was hard. She had tried thinking before.

When?

Doesn’t matter. More food for the human. More blood for her.

The human? Her human. Hers.

Still. The human was weird. Not like the rest. He did not scream. He was calm. His heart would beat fast when she was near. The humans did that. But he was always calm. He was strange. But maybe strange is good. He feeds her. Strange is very good. His smell is important, she made sure to memorize it.

The rest of him? Who knows? Not important. She could smell him.

What was he? A human. A strange one?

What about the rest?

They differed from each other. Male and female. Young and old. There were other differences. How? What? She didn’t know.

She heard them talk. She understood it. Slightly. They called each other somehow. Words. Word for each person. Each person, unique word. Special words?

Names. Humans have names, sometimes repeat. A name for a person.

What was her human called?

She didn’t know?

Did he say it?

She didn’t know.

The hunger growled more, her feet stomping against the earth. The carcasses bounded as she leapt across fallen trees. They weren’t like that before. She thought. She thought she thought so. It didn’t matter; she kept running.

A person was called by a name. It made them what they are. At least she thought, the humans looked the same, for the most part. But they were persons.

Was she a person? She was hungry.

Was she a person? She thought so, therefore she was.

Was she a person? She must have a name.

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What is my name?

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She stopped, the sounds of her steps halting as suddenly as her. She was, wasn’t she? Who was she? What was she? A name. A name means a person. She was a person. What was her name. A name. A name. It means something. It must mean something. What does it mean. Why does it mean? Who does it mean? Does what mean? Does my name? Name? Mean. What is my name? Who I am?

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“I am…..” She thought until she did not. Her eyes stilled, without reflection. An error, an abrupt ending. An incomplete formation. She was not, for she had not.

Hungry. More. MORE.

Hunger burst within her, her frame writhing in pain. Her grip on the carcasses tightened, crushing the bones of the once alive and unmaimed deer and the cadaver of a previously ferocious badger. Thinking did nothing. She hungered. She needed more. More blood. More. Now. Need to have more.

She ran and ran, steps like thunder, blasting off the ground. She knew this path; the house was there. The human must be there.

He might not be. But he must. Otherwise, she must hunt. She sniffed the air as she ran. The rain washed away the familiar smells, the time for her hunting had exceeded what she wanted. Not that she could tell, so long as the accursed sun wasn’t out, it was always night in her eyes. But the scent of her human was not present.

The sky was far from becoming enveloped by the gentle darkness, but the clouds were a close second. It wouldn’t be long, as she spotted the familiar set of trees, and the haven beyond it. She slowed, keeping wary. A human had found her before. If another did, she would kill it faster. Her human wouldn’t mind.

Step by step she approached the house. It was dark and lonely, a perfect hole to wait in. She approached the open window. The hunger pulsed, her eyes felt like bursting out of her skull. But it would wait. It must wait. She must wait. She gingerly stepped inside. She did not see her human, nor smell him.

Inching in further and further, it seemed well. But a slight click alerted her. It was from the other side of the bed. She could not see from where she was. She lifted her heels, placing her weight on her toes. Despite the wooden floor’s decrepit creaking, no sound was made.

Step by step, she approached. She smelt something. Someone was here. She would have her fill; it would not go like last time. She coiled her legs once more, before leaping to the other side of the bed, as a face emerged.

“AHH!” Her human yelled as he stumbled back onto the floor. She missed him, landing her face into the wall, her grip on her previous prey slipping. The badger’s body flew from her hand and onto his face, covering him with a face full of fur.

“Bleh!” He pushed the body off of him and spit out some fur. He looked at her, something in his hand. His eyes grew large. He was lively. He must have more for her. He scurried back on the floor, but it was too late. She lunged once more at him, clenching her jaw onto his neck.

His blood was refreshing. She recalled the taste from the first time. How wonderful it truly was. She drank and drank, though her vision shifted dramatically. Her temple collided with the bedframe, as her jaw loosened. Her human stood by and moved over her into the middle of the room. Why must he stop her? Why must he hurt her?

“I can’t give more than that. You should know that.” Right. That was right. Humans only had so much. The hunger subsided somewhat. It was better than nothing.

“Fine.” She growled, and held up the deer carcass. “More food. You eat.”

Her human’s eyes grew darker, her shoulder seemed to slump. She must’ve had taken too much this time. But it was good. Surely this food would fill him up. Her human grabbed the bodies and took them outside where he prepared them. He would eat well, and so would she.

The hunger’s pulse lessened, she thought. She thought. She wondered. What was her human doing? What did they do? She did not know. She looked under the bed. There was a, bag. Yes, a bag. She looked to see something sticking out. She grabbed it, her long fingernails brushing against the slightly smooth material. It had bits of black all over it, in odd shapes. Some of the shapes reoccurred, but it seemed like just a collection of shapes. It made no sense to her.

Still though. It was hidden. Humans hide stuff. Humans hide stuff they like. Stuff that is important. Important to them. This was important to her human. Humans didn’t like losing important stuff. If he lost his important stuff, he would not be happy. A happy human is a healthy human. Healthy humans give the best blood. The most blood.

She put it back, her human should be happy. He was feeding her after all.

Raphael was utterly miserable. He had timed his return wrong; the vampire had found him. Though it withheld itself once more, how long would it be until that is no longer the case? Considering the amount of meat from the forest it has gathered, it would not surprise him to think that it has been draining the woods of fresh game entirely. There might be nothing left soon, or at least not enough. What would be devoured then? It would be the next thing it could find. Which would be him, and any other unfortunate souls to cross her path.

He looked at the carcasses before him. They surely died in pain. And there they were, fuel for the shrinking candle that was his life. Like feed for pigs, it only illustrated his position even further.

He was livestock, plain and simple. He would be killed once his purpose was over, or whenever its hunger could not be sated. His poor fortune brought him to encounter such a fiend, and his poor decision to bind himself to it.

Pondering ceased as mud was audibly displaced under hungry feet. The vampire had exited the house, the clouds shielding it from harm. He certainly could not run, nor pretend to act contrary to its expectations. The hungry look in its blue eye only heightened his trepidation.29Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZxgSFoju4z

He got to work, cutting, cleaning, and clinically disassembling the carcasses in front of him, like hundreds of times beforehand. The vampire’s gaze did not leave. But he focused on the work nonetheless. Busy hands made less time to worry.

Even so, his muscles chilled, with every breath hampered by a frigid weight that nestled into his bones. The prior rain had no consequence on such a brisk phenomenon. Rather, the glare of a hungry predator eagerly awaiting its meal rattled his core.

“Your staring will not make me work faster.” He spoke, forcing his muscles to act in any capacity they could. He did not turn his head. The look of hunger would only drain my fortitude from his eyes.

“What makes it faster?” The response came curiously. The tone sounded innocuous; a genuine question. It didn’t like questions. But it waited. Perhaps a good sign. If it could talk, it could wait.

“Unfortunately, there is nothing that would make it faster. Aside from extra hands,” He considered turning his head, a foolish notion. He took a page from Jan’s book, “I do not suppose you would like to help?”

No response came. He kept his eyes towards the bodies. His first exposure to such tasks left him nauseous. An embarrassing ordeal, but thanks to necessity and continued exposure, it was but a simple yet messy task.

He heard footsteps in the mud and grass, inching closer and closer. His heart beat faster. The vampire approached. Why? Did he say something wrong? Could it wait no longer?

Raphael let his right hand slip towards his sheathed knife, quick to draw and strike in a fell swoop. From the corner of his eye, the vampire walked within the periphery of his vision. It stared at the bodies, its blue eye unfocused on him. The other remained obscured behind the veil of grayed hair. He lifted his hand away from his weapon, keeping his movements seemingly natural.

The cutting and cleaning continued. The vampire merely stared. Nothing more, nothing less. Its intent could not be ascertained from its gaze. Curiosity. Confusion? Boredom? These were human concepts. Yet. It showed facsimiles of human expression. Perhaps not facsimiles?

The vampire’s stare wavered, as it grew restless, eventually walking away, and kicking some mud. Whatever it was feeling before, it was certainly now bored.

“Do you have nothing else to do in the meantime?” Raphael blurted, nearly biting his tongue after the last syllable. The vampire stood still, as though trying to find the words.

“No.” That was all. A good wait for a single word. Very curious indeed. The boredom it displayed continued the questions. He had not seen it rest, it only hunted or waited. Such a life must be utter agony.

Though, it did rest following their meeting outside Zori. Perhaps….

“If you have nothing to do, why not sleep in the house? You could pass the time faster.” A mild suggestion, if nothing more. The vampire turned to look at him.

“Sleep, is easy kill. Humans sleep when it’s dark. Sleeping humans are easy prey. Sleeping means easy kill. No sleeping.” The vampire countered sharply. It clearly had its own thoughts on the matter. But perhaps lacked context.

“Humans don’t always sleep when it’s dark, we do it when we are tired. To restore ourselves.” Raphael noted some of its earlier speech. “Perhaps you can restore yourself a bit if you do.”

The vampire seemed to consider for a moment, but then spoke again. “No. Light may come. Human may kill me. No sleep.”

It was wary, any signs of weakness were to be avoided. It was foolish, but not stupid. But negotiations could always allow for turnabout and paradigm shifts.

“Then you could avoid those. There is a chest in the house, you could fit in there, and I can place some of the other objects in the room on top. Only I would know you are there, and you would be able to hear if someone did try and open it.”

The vampire seemed to consider it. Raphael noted such a proposition was risky. Offering it more sanctuary, at risk of trapping it while also keeping it even safer from harm. That and having power over it by putting it in there. Such a deal would be absurd, for it had nothing to gain by granting him control.

“Yes.” The vampire stared blankly, seemingly agreeing to such terms. Raphael paused. Flabbergasted as he was from the swift acceptance of any absurd plan, he was not going to look the gift horse in the mouth. He closed his agape mouth and set aside his tools for now. He walked back inside the house, the vampire uncomfortably close behind him.

The room that made up the house had become more and more familiar, but never any more welcome. Still, the chest that rested to the side had not seen much use. Raphael had checked the contents, mostly spare clothing or other small items, nothing more. Still, they were not needed. He carefully removed them one by one, the gaze of the predator still piercing him the entire time. The vacant chest now could hold a human, or similar sized creature. Albeit not the most comfortable.

“Here you go.” Raphael gestured towards the chest. The vampire approached and look inside. It closed the lid, checking for any creases or cracks. There were none, which seemed adequate. It crawled inside, curling itself to fit within the confined space. It stared up towards the ceiling, as Raphael took the cue to close the lid.

It did not speak, the blue eye only staring at him as the view shrunk further and further.

Raphael spoke once more, breaking the stiff silence. “No other humans. Just me, do you remember?”

The vampire simply continued to stare, a slight nod was all that it gave. The chest was closed with a thud, as Raphael held his breath.

Nothing.

Nothing happened at all.

He exhaled in relief, a successful, if temporary containment. He placed some of the remaining wood and furniture on top of the container, making sure the lid stayed closed and that no light could get in. After enough weight was placed, it seemed adequate. No certainty could be found here, but adequacy would have to do.

Raphael considered asking to see if it was asleep. Better not, rousing it from rest would certainly only invite its ire. Even so, opportunity could not be ignored. While it hadn’t left, he had a perfect means to place it in a singular spot.

Stepping ever carefully, he tip-toed around the room. The window and door did beckon in light under the right circumstances, but the time of day was essential.

Noting the problem for later, Raphael took some of the tools he borrowed from Jan, tying rope and twine around the room in particular areas. Though a rudimentary, if not ramshackle effort, He could have the windows and doors forcibly opened, having light pour onto the chest. The vampire would burn or be trapped, either way, a solid means of offense against the monster.

Could the vampire realize this. Perhaps? Given its limited intelligence, it would be best to cover the trap with some of the innocuous items of the house. As well, finding glass and clean metal could help for their reflective properties, if not cleaned water. Those the former would be hard, if not expensive to come by, the latter might be more feasible in time.

Still, the thought of water brought to mind the miracles of holy water used by the Church. Sure, it was mostly for baptisms, but perhaps such miracles could vanquish a vampire?

Probably not. It was mostly like a sham or merely means to prescribe importance onto the mundane. The ideas were understandably appealing, but it would not help. Raphael figured it would be worth a test, but certainly not to act as a failsafe.

Either way, one step forwards was always welcome. To what end, he wasn’t sure. To what goal, neither that. He returned to cleaning the meat the vampire had gathered for his replenishment. He would not become just another meal.

The sounds of the human tinkering away could be heard. The darkness enveloped her, it was comforting. Still, the hunger grew restless, tearing away at her body, and clawing away at her head.

What to do? Nothing. Her human must eat, the other humans are too difficult to kill right now.

Why not later? Why NOT later? Unsure, if she could get some humans, she would go for it.

Why not? Her human said he would provide, so no others would.

Why not? She must eat, why tell her not to?

Why not? She did not know.

Why not? She did not understand. The human made no sense. To eat is to live, to eat is to quiet the hunger. To not be eaten is to live.

Why not? Did her human not wish to live?

Why not? Did he choose it so that other humans would live?

Why not? Why? Why not?

Why----Her thoughts faded to darkness, as the hunger’s call could no longer be heard.

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Another day, and another failure. More of the citizens of Răscruce had turned him down. The weary faces from before now greeted him with disdain. They were God-fearing people, and The Lord’s messenger in town certainly made sure he was spared no ire.

Raphael found refuge behind a baker’s home, smells of fresh bread tore at his taste buds. He was getting sick of meat, once a luxury, now a cruel indication of his fate. Sure, wild berries helped make impromptu stews more palatable, but even so, there was inf act too much of a good thing.

He counted the coins he had on hand once more. Plenty to pay to rest, but how far he could make it last was unknown. He had managed to tiptoe his way around town, overhearing conversations, and using gathered info to find Viscount Costea’s estate. In the worst-case scenario, perhaps the nobleman had maps towards Bucharest he could borrow, or perhaps just copy. Raphael had made it this far; he can surely manage on his own once more.

Still, it was to be a last resort. The ice beneath him had already cracked, to tread unwisely would plunge him into an inescapable cold. Goosebumps curled up his arm. The vampire was asleep, yet its presence still lingered in his thoughts. He would have to figure out something soon.

Either way, it was only the early afternoon, still plenty of time. For what, that remained unknown. Or rather, what he would do.

Raphael walked out from the alley, back into the busy town. More and more refugees crowded the streets, there was little room for foot traffic despite the size of the highway town.

An argument could be heard over the cacophony of despair and confusion, an old peddler argued with a foundling, the young man claiming the peddler’s horse injured him. Whether genuine or fabricated, the heated altercation was not. Such a simple error, or blatant fraud, would be easily dealt with.

But emotions were high-strung here. The people stood in the way of the bickering, as Raphael walked past. Perhaps he could do more, he could always try and talk things through. But, no one wanted him. So, he kept going.

A small gathering of refugees had made a camp in town, likely only over the course of the last few days, as it wasn’t there previously. Clearly out of the way of foot traffic, but definitely not welcome. Raphael noted the parallels, as he approached. These people were likely as desperate as him, but they could have something more valuable than money.

He approached, noting a rudimentary pot cooking some stew. People gathered around, smiles painted and feigned. He did not blame them, how could anyone?

“Hello there. Mind if I sit in? I don’t feed the food, just want to talk.”

Some of the people present paid no mind, others were wary. The former was certainly preferable to the latter. But either way, no refusal was given. He sat, keeping his composure and posture relaxed. Manners were essential, both in principle and pragmatic.

A family sat near the pot, awaiting their meal. It was quaint, though impoverished in bodies and money, they were hearts joyful to have each other. Raphael withheld his tongue; envy made for a poor first impression.

“You kicked out of your home too, sonny?” An older woman spoke up near him, clearly eyeing him up. Raphael couldn’t help but thinking about the vampire’s initial appearance and subsequent changes. Its looks were deceiving apparently, though this woman seemed earnest, if crotchety.

“I would unfortunately say so.” Raphael gave a practiced sigh, though it was by no means artificial.

“How bad was it?” She asked. Raphael noted the sting of prior events, they still echoed in the cavernous halls of his mind.

“It was not pleasant, it was my own fault to some extent.”

“Ha! Don’t kid yourself, child. Everyone here has seen demons, and yet no one would believe them.” The old woman laughed at his words.

Raphael knew this all too well. But it was something to carry nonetheless. The woman continued before he could.

“If you asked me in my younger years how the Devil would appear, I would had said a serpent or damned bug. Never would have imagined a damn demon cow. Ha!” The old woman laughed. Raphael noted his misconception and said nothing on that point.

He did reply with, “A cow? Did it look large, as though it was a twisted approximation?”

The old woman scowled, “Appa-rocks-a-what? It was a cow, that was big, it had horns everywhere, it had human hands, and the damn thing talked!” Some of the other members of this shabby camp rolled their eyes, others held themselves tight. Not a majority consensus, it appeared but the old woman’s experience was not limited to her alone.

“What happened then? I’m guessing you made it out safely to some degree?”

“Ay, some of us did, some of us got lost in the forest, and weren’t seen again. This is all that’s left of our home. And we aren't the only ones it seems.” Raphael noted the people present. Only a handful of able-bodied men, lots of children, some women. These were those that could barely fend for themselves.

“I’m certain it’s been rough.” Raphael offered condolences. Try as he might, he still bore no mastery over comfort.

“It has. And it will. That is life.” The old woman sipped on some soup, as the family around the pot divvied out what they could. It was not much.

“Life is short, and shit will happen regardless, kiddo. Best to live how you want and not have regrets.” The old woman put on a smile. Raphael could see the facade. Wisdom wasn’t her strong suit either. He knew not her pain; his imagination could only dream of the worst.

“Thank you.” His goal wasn’t here. His task hadn't even begun. A journey not even started, yet so tantalizingly close. The fire burned more, bringing nourishment to those that sought it. To grant aid to others, in the darkest moments. Something so dangerous, yet helpful and needed all the same.

Raphael shook himself. No need to wax poetic. Still, this old woman and these survivors had seen the monsters, at least one. There had to be more of those blood gems. Considering the amount of destroyed towns and displaced people, this was not simply a small number of incidents. First a pig, then a toad, now a cow. Given the number of possible other incidents, there could be repeating incidents from a few creatures. Or perhaps a sheer number of them out in the world could be the cause.

There wasn’t enough data, not enough to make a conclusion. Either a veritable horde or minute number of uncontested abominations. Either way, no one could handle such things. Certainly not him. Humans together couldn’t handle one. An army perhaps? Unlikely, the speed and power of such beasts would easily overpower a large force and likely scatter and disorient it.

But Raphael looked again at the people before him. The smiles on the family in front of him. They bore the pain of facsimile and falsehood. Parents lying to their children, children pretending they don’t understand, and bellies still waiting to be full. The old woman laughed to herself, clearly madness had not taken her yet.

Reaching in his coat pockets, Raphael scrounged some of the dried game meat he had been saving, and handed it to the old woman. “Share it with everyone else, it’s the least I can do.”

The old woman stared, expecting something else to occur. But nothing did. Raphael walked away, his legs tried, his blood slow, and his soul torn.

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Mouth dry, the air was still, head was pounding.

Hungry. So very hungry. A rabbit had walked by.

It stared, uncertain as to the being that witnessed it. It ran, faster than it could, not fast enough though. It was grabbed, caught and immobile. Its legs kicked the air, vain and fruitless attempts to flee. A large chomp crushed its tiny torso, as the heart ceased beating. It had no time to think. The head was bit off in a single, sudden clenching of the jaw over it. The dark maw was the last it knew, before the darkness took hold forever.

Hungry. So very hungry. Walking more and more, it was all silent and cacophonous. Eyes blinked, yet things were not clearer.

Within the noise, a tingle invited awareness. A sound. A smell. Something was nearby. Something within beckoned. Within, beckoned to claim, within something, beckoned to be claimed. What was it?

Prey was close. The hunger would be sated.

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This was a bad idea. A terrible idea, a real shit idea. But, it was this or be stuck with more work. Fucking Anton, old piece of shit.

Emil walked, following the annoying yet detailed path the foreigner had mentioned. Sure, this ought to be something. If it was some prank, he could at least pretend there was something and skip out on work. If not, then at least skipping work would need no excuses.

He bended the corner around a tree, scratching his face against a sudden branch. He rubbed his hand on the wound. Only a slight bit of blood, but nothing more. The tree however, was unlike its fellows. It was damaged and broken, as though something large had struck it. But what? These trees were large and old, here for generations before him. What could have done such a thing?

Peeking past the destroyed wood, he saw a clearing. The ground appeared like something was dropped upon it, several times in fact. More trees were destroyed, ranging from holes being bored into them or full-on bisection. A large stone boulder had similar holes. What could cause these? It was completely unknown to the young man.

Perforations like these could not be man-made, but certainly not anything in nature.

He took another look at the ground. Blood splatters covered the broken earth. Though dried, likely formed quite a while ago & even with the recent rainfall, it still stained the dirt.

What could have bled here? It would have to be massive, judging by the impact marks in the ground, and the sheer quantities of the dried red liquid.

Dear Lord. Perhaps that foreigner spoke the truth. If so, this is far grander than just him, or perhaps the whole town. Emil was not one for concern, even less so for urgency. But this superseded his wants, lest something terrible happen.

He turned, making way to trace his path back. No point sticking around here, it would be dark soon and staying out here was certainly a death sentence. He took only a few steps before he spotted something. Movement staggered from behind some of the broken trees.

Emil caught himself, what else would be here? Certainly nothing good. His heart ceased its beating as a presence emanated from beyond his view. Something was not right; something was absolutely not right. But the figure that stepped out was by no means unknown.

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Hungry. So very hungry. The scents had led him here. A new one was present. Somewhat familiar. Fresh. Very fresh.

“What are you doing out here?” It approached as it spoke. “What happened to you, where’d this blood come from?”

It spoke. Questions. Not important. Still very hungry. “Very. Hungry.”

It paused for but a second. “I’ll bet, how long have you been out here? Of course you’re hungry. Let’s get you back already, this place isn’t safe. I think that guy was right, there might be actual monsters out here.”

Monsters? Doesn’t matter. Hungry. So very hungry.

A scent. Life. Savoring. Essence that sated the hunger. Blood.

Looking up, there it was. From only a tiny wound, the ambrosia that sustained the endless life flowed slowly but surely.

Eat. Consume. Devour. Taste the blood, and taste the fate.

Grabbing both of its hands, it shook in place. “Hey. What are you doing?!”

It would be over soon. But the prey kept moving. Those it was immobile, it still thrashed.

The prey slammed its head forward, breaking skin and dealing damage. It wasn’t enough, the hunt would not be halted.

But it still was not enough to feast with. More. More. MoRe!

Flesh bubbled and burst, bone’s cracked, shattered, and grew again... New sensations connected to mental pathway, new tools to control and command.

“Oh God! HELP! SOMEONE HEL-!” The noise was unwanted. Hands still gripped on the forearms of the prey, as another gripped around the throat. Prey that was silent was best. Not as fun to hunt, but not as messy.

Another blasting of bone, from the shoulder, as another hand made itself known, grabbing hold of the prey’s jaw. Liquid pooling form it’s eyes, the skin slowly darkening blue. The hands grabbed and pulled, as the heartbeat grew now loud enough to hear. It did not scream, as the sweet crack ended it swiftly.

Hands were bloody, covered in the prize of a successful hunt. The pain and suffering were delightful, but nothing compared to the feast. Two hands still held the forearms, one hand held the crooked neck, the other hand held the bloody jaw as sinew and muscle dangled from it.

No hesitation was held. The prey’s body was consumed, violently and immediately. The hunger must be sated. It was delicious. It was rapturous. It was all that was, all that will be. But now, it will salvation.

How much time had passed? Unknown. The night was soon to arrive, the red rays in the sky heralded its arrival.

A scent had emerged. More prey was nearby. The hunt must continue. A smile crept upon the face of the wicked.

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“You!” A loud voice ended the silent contemplation, as Raphael’s feet stopped in their tracks. He turned to see an older man, one that he was vaguely familiar with.

“Mister Anton, yes? What is it?” Raphael kept himself cordial and polite. Though Anton’s gaze was one of hostility. He had no idea what would cause this. Sure, he was now a pariah in town, but a sudden display of virulence had no impetus that he could think of.

“Where the hell is Emil?” Anton got right in Raphael’s face. Raphael was certain there was something going on he wasn’t aware of. Best to remain calm and discern the dilemma.

“I am afraid I do not know what you mean. May I humbly ask what you mean?” He spoke softly and simply.

“You sent him out there and now he’s gone. Where is he?” Anton seemed frustrated. He cared about Emil, or perhaps it was more selfish than that. Such details were unknown to Raphael. But even so.

“Anton. I have not seen Emil since I last spoke with you. I have no idea where he could be. I understand you are upset. Can I ask what makes you think I had something to do with it?” Firm yet fierce, a shifting of masks to fool and manipulate. All too common for him, all too useful.

“He said he was going to the woods where you said your little story took place. And he hasn’t been back since the day before yesterday.”

Approximately two days’ worth of absent time then. For a big town, not seeing someone isn’t unheard of. But for someone seen on a daily basis, it was concerning. Though, Raphael knew, there could be a myriad possibilities, only one of which would be true.

“I have no idea what may have occurred. I would hope not the worst, but even if that was the case, I would have nothing to do with it. I have been in town this entire time, and you said Emil left on his own accord. Neither of us have any true inkling towards what might have happened.”

Raphael lowered his voice to a quieter tone. “I understand you are worried; you ought to be when concerned for another. But you lack any proof and are currently very impassioned.”

Anton eye’s shook, various emotions mixing with Raphael’s shrewd words, rendering the older man unable to formulate much of a counter.

Raphael spoke once more. “If I may offer, I am willing to head towards the place I mentioned. You could accompany me if you do not believe me at my word.”

Anton considered the words, a moment of silence let the thoughts collect themselves. “No. I don’t trust you one damn bit. But, I don’t have anything to say it was you.”

“And I am certain you will not find anything, for I have not done anything wrong. But I do commend your concern for Emil. I can go and see if I find anything in the forest.”

“I wouldn’t trust a damn thing you say, heathen.” ahh yes, Father Gheorghe has been hard at work making sure Raphael’s time here wasn’t any easier.

“Trust is earned, and I shall do whatever I can to do so. Thank you for your time then, I shall be off.” He finished respectfully, despite himself, and headed off.

Anton stood there, still bamboozled by the foreign man’s way with words. At least he shouldn’t cause trouble for a while.

Still, Raphael thought about it. What was happening right now? Surely the vampire was still resting right now, but that wouldn’t account for anything within the past two days or so.

Though this day was still young, barely a few hours after sunrise. A new goal took priority. Investigating the site itself, and checking in with Jan for more work. It was not like there was anything else to do right now.

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There wasn’t much else to do right now. The hunger returned when she had reawoken. How long was it? It wasn’t the night, that was certain. She had pushed the lid of the chest open easily, the weight on top meant nothing to her. Objects clattered onto the floor, as she arose. Exiting the chest, she saw the darkness was vacant. Disappointing, but at least the dreaded sun was impeded by clouds. It was good enough.

What wasn’t good was the hunger. It was quiet, but not sated. The human was correct, resting did quiet it, despite the time spent, she was not nearly as famished as she once was. But even so, the hunger would return. And her human wasn’t here.

Could she wait? Maybe.

Did she want to? Not really.

Did she have time to hunt? Absolutely.

No hesitation, as she ran right out the door, and back into the woods.

She noted how much harder it was to find anything to eat. She had eaten so much, brought back so much for the human. Humans could eat the animals, perhaps the other humans were eating them. Maybe.

She ran and she ran, sniffing the air for any traces or prey. The normal spots were empty. How? The animals can’t all be gone already, can they? Did something else eat them? Then she couldn’t eat, and the human couldn’t eat.

If her human couldn’t eat, then he couldn’t feed her.

If he can’t feed her, the hunger will return.

Must feed.

She ran, heading towards the edges of the town. If there was nothing to eat in the woods, then the human was useless to her. If there was nothing to eat here, then the other humans must’ve eaten them.

She would eat the other humans. Simple as that. Her human said not to, but she was hungry, and she would eat.

The path towards the town was not unfamiliar, but given the previous failed attempts, she kept more distance, looking for a new place to observe from. Humans could be seen going to and from the buildings. She knew not what they did or why, but there were lots of them. She wanted them, they all had what she needed. But even one could get lucky. She must protect her heart.

A pulse reverberated through her, the hunger would make itself known soon. Caution was no longer a concern, as she sprinted within the treeline. Surely there would be someone alone. Surely, someone could give her what she wanted.

She looked out towards the town, still nothing. There were just so MANY humans. Towns usually didn’t have this many. Usually? How did she know? She did not know. She did not know how, but she knew. Lots of humans came here for some reason. Plenty of humans, lots of feasts. Lots of ways to be seen, caught or killed. Surely, the humans wouldn’t mind if some were gone. They got rid of their own all the time, they could give her some. Or not notice a few for her to take.

No opportunity presented itself however. She looked up, and spotted the clouds were still heavy, but even the slightest bit of sunlight crept through. A ray of light grazed her arm, as the skin burnt and ignited. She covered her mouth with her other hand, biting into it to suppress her scream. She knew not to be discovered, as she avoided the light and patted the flames on her arm away.

Why? Why did she know not to scream? Why take such cautions?

Caution? Why not just hunt. Why not go and eat?

Because dangerous.

But eat.

But why?

Why am I hesitating? Is this hesitation, or a way to eat?

Her head pounded. Questions arose, and she did not like them.

Something unknown yet intimate was stirring. Incomplete, but yearning.

Ignore it. Find humans to eat.

Her human would not be happy. Happy humans gave the best blood.

That is true.

But she needs to eat. To drink blood.

How much blood?

To sate the hunger.

As she looked up to see if the light was gone, she noticed a gray trail in the air. Smoke.

Smoke meant fire. Fire meant humans. The trails were from inside the woods.

She would eat without hindrance.

Running, faster and faster. Each step, each impact of boot to earth, the hunger crept closer and closer. Whether to run form it or relish it. One or the other. Which one to choose.

Questions. More questions. She snarled, her feet still kicking off the earth. The soke trails were just up ahead. She leapt up, landing on a nearby tree. With sudden movements, she scurried up towards the crown, and leapt from branch to branch, gaining height over her new prey.

The smoke was near, as human voices could be heard. She slowed her approach, inching closer and closer, leaping between branches slowly but surely. They were visible, a gathering of them. Disheveled clothing and dour faces. The easy to miss humans. Perfect.

Instinct screamed, pounce and claim.

But.

Waiting had it’s uses. The human was certain of it. He was certain, and useful. These humans could have weapons. She would claim her prize regardless, why not wait and see?

“Teo passed away last night. I don’t have the heart to tell Marta.”

“You can’t hide it from her, why are you hesitating? We are already dead, there’s nothing to spare her from.”

“I know, but I *cough* can’t. I just can’t.”

“Fat load of good you are.” A woman walked away, leaving a man alone. She watched the humans. Skin was discolored, bumps and boils scattered all across it. These were definitely unwanted humans.

Why? What was it called?

Plague.

It was called plague. A human touched by plague was to be removed. Why? Who knows? But, plague left them weak. Plague means they can be eaten, and not missed. Plague meant easy prey.

Her jaw widened, the skin breaking as her teeth sharpened.

Her human said to not kill.

He wasn’t important. These humans weren’t important. They would not be missed.

She kept her weight off the branch, making sure to not break it beneath her feet. She leapt down, her boots cratering the earth beneath it, as wet dirt bounced into the air.

The humans stared, their talking and action ceased with her arrival. As it should. Why?

Because she was hungry.

A human woman, her hair tattered and her face marred by the black boils, screamed at the sight. Other humans moved to flee. But their movements were slowed, if near non-existent. The best kind of easy prey.

She stepped forward, eager to claim, when her gut rescinded from a blow. It was not heavy, but she was toppled by the sudden weight pressing on her. She looked down, her eyes filled with craving. She saw the sad human man had tackled her. It wasn’t forceful, but definitely sudden.

He shouted, “Run!” And the other humans did so. Annoying. This human was annoying her.

“Hungry….” She stared at him as she drooled. The human should be afraid, but his eyes held something she did not know.

“You gotta settle for rotten meat then. Eheh.” A weak laugh escaped, followed by an even weaker cough. She bit into him, draining him quickly.

The blood was putrid, imbalanced, not healthy. It was blood, but not the best kind. Was it because he was sad, or because of the plague.

She did not remember. Should she remember?

She looked up, the other humans had fled already. They were slow, but she could find them in due time.

Should she eat them? With more blood in her body, the hunger lessened. If they didn’t die, perhaps. Perhaps if she didn’t kill them, maybe they could feed her like her human does.

That could be a great idea. Humans get scared when eaten. They get angry if other humans get eaten. But, if no humans die, then humans don’t get scared or angry.

She smiled, her bloodstained teeth would shine like her brilliant idea, if not for the fluid reward coating her fangs. She let go of the weak human, thought she was hungry, she could tell her had more to give.

“You. Give me more.” She spoke, looking at his eyes. But no life could be found behind them. This human was dead, with a smile on his face.

How? How was he dead? She didn’t kill him. How could he have died?

Questions. She hated the questions.

But she hated not knowing.

Why did she hate it?

She didn’t know, and she hated it.

She tossed the body off of her, tearing away at the clothes. Did another human kill him while she was drinking? Thin fabric shredded swiftly between his clawed nails. The human bare chest was exposed. The skin was even more discolored, the black spots all over him.

Why did humans avoid the plague? Because it killed them.

Oh. That makes more sense now. Humans fear dying above all else. Plague means death. These humans are already dead.

But, this human was already dead. Why stop her?

A human wouldn’t stop her, lest none other than her human, but he was weird. Humans are selfish, so long as they don’t die, they will do anything.

The other humans ran. Maybe they got rid of him so they could run.

That would explain it.

Why did the human smile?

Did he like being thrown away?

Humans made no sense. Thinking was too hard.

She decided not to kill any humans, but if they died anyways, then *she* didn’t kill them.

She bit into the corpse and drank. Disgusting, but easy. Her human would be delicious but difficult. She smiled. She would not have a lack of options.

Still, her human’s blood and this human’s blood. There was something about them. She drank because she had to. But, there were always similarities and differences. Something similar here. Very faint. An echo versus a roar.

Comparisons weren’t her strong suit. Eating was. She finished her meal, the body freed from its liquids.

Her human was troublesome though. Good ideas, but she wanted more. She needed more. He told her no. No one told her no. Why?

Because was-

What?

What was she?

Hungry. She was hungry. She would be hungrier soon.

She could not wait until then.

Maybe she could abandon her human. If she found a new place. Sleep during the day, eat at night. Not killing, draining.

Perfect. A perfect plan.

But, to abandon her human.

No. No?

Unknown.

If she fed without killing, she could feed forever. It is perfect. But why not?

Why not? More questions. She hated the questions.

But.

Her human likes questions.

He can answer them.

If he can answer them, she can keep him.

Pain jolted through her. Sunlight had crept through during her contemplation, burning her neck. She dashed behind a tree, hiding and healing. Blood emerged from her wound, congealing and healing it. The clouds were showing holes in their shielding. She would have to continue her hunt and flee.

Better to flee, her human would have more blood for her. She ran back, confident that there are always more humans to feast upon later.

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Some things need not be difficult. Some things were always difficult. Some things were a complete and utter hassle when you become a social pariah. Raphael had spent an hour just trying to find out where Jan lived. He cursed himself for not asking in advance. Wanting to keep himself separate from others for their own safety seemed noble. But, given the time it wasted for him, he definitely should have discarded such cavalier notions.

Still, a friendly baker showed him the way. Though Raphael would have loved some fresh bread right now, his plate was full enough as is. If he can get some more coin, he should be able to afford enough to last all the way to Bucharest before winter.

He approached the large home, a connected building with a large workshop adjoined to it. The building looked very custom, likely reinforcements and custom carpentry done by the residents themselves. The sound of metal hitting wood were familiar, as was a scent of sawdust that crept under the wooden doors. Surely, Jan or his father must be home. The former would be preferable. If the latter however….

Raphael steeled himself. Things couldn’t get worse, right? He knocked on the door of the workshop and announced himself. “Hello, is Jan home? Or Cezar?”

A moment of silence, as the sounds of tools ceased. “Jan’s not here, come in.” The tone was dry and tired. Cezar must have been working for quite a while.

Raphael sheepishly opened the door. This was certainly not what he hoped for. Still, it would be rude to leave immediately, and fruitless to go without some information. He looked inside. Tools were scattered everywhere, as racks of empty holders and shelves covered the walls. Cezar stood with his back turned, his large apron covered in sawdust from the chest down. Discarded bits of timber were scattered across the floor, as the older man slowly pounded a chisel into a piece of log.

This workshop had seen better days. There was a clear attention to detail in the design, but everything was not where it should be.

Perhaps Jan’s family were going through hard times. Perhaps he was putting on airs to not seem weak. Raphael would have to tread carefully, and be considerate for the Nemes.

“Good day, Cezar. I was hoping to talk to Jan, but if he isn’t here then-”

“He isn’t here.” Cezar cut him off. There was emotion behind it. Something must have happened. Though, given the events of the last few days, there was no telling what that could be.

“Oh. Do you know where he might be then, or perhaps I could wait for him here? By all means, I could offer assistance in whatever you may need.” An innocuous gesture. Granted, Raphael certainly knew he was busy enough, but even so, a helping hand is always worth offering.

Cezar said nothing, still chiseling away, his head still towards the log. “If that’s the case, could you come here for a sec? I need some help with this wicked son of a bitch.”

Raphael noted a cold tone to the words. He approached, keeping his hands low and free. The sawdust on the ground made for quiet footsteps, as the clanking of the hammer impacting the chisel continued.

Arriving at the workbench, nary a moment passed as Raphael saw that the log in Cezar’s possession have on design in its semi-sculpted form, only bits and pieces broken away randomly. He turned, as metal approached his neck.

Rapidly swing his hand up, he swatted away the wrist holding he chisel, the reverse grip having been aiming for a hard puncture. Swiftly, he equipped in knife from its sheath, grabbing the wrist, twisting it clockwise until the grip was released. A painful yelp emerged, as Raphael noticed the hammer in the other hand coming down towards him. Without letting go of the wrist, he hoisted it up in the way on the other hand, halting the momentum. He pulled his arms back, cutting across the palm of the right hand while striking the left wrist with his knife’s pommel. The fingers loosed and dropped the hammer.

Raphael stepped back against his instincts, making distance between his attacker. “What in the world are you doing?!” He exclaimed, try to make sense of things. This man was under duress or madness, best to ascertain what.

“You bastard. How fucking dare you.” Cezar bent his knees to reach for his tools as Raphael ran towards him and kicked them away.

The older man glared, as Raphael asked once more. “What are you doing? What is going on here?”

“You know damn well what is going on!”

“I genuinely do not, so either talk or I will have to use force.” Cezar glared, while Raphael stood his ground. The air was tense, with both men ready to lunge if needed.

This was fruitless as is. Raphael slowly put the knife away, back into its sheath on the back of his belt. He kept his left hand free. Better that Cezar didn’t know about the second knife. Controlling information was critical to negotiation.

“Jan hasn’t been back since the day you talked with Gheorghe. You’re the only person he’s been with lately, that could have done something to him.” Venom filled the words. But, a father ought to look after their children, even if Jan was his own man.

“I have not seen him since that day either, that’s why I came here. I did not know he was missing.” Raphael spoke earnestly, the better the truth sounded, the greater the chance the other person would speak in kind.

“You are the last person to have seen him,” Cezar gritted his teeth. Raphael could see the man’s eyes were worn with worry and ablaze with fury. “You should know something.”

“As I have said before, I am unaware of anything myself, I only spoke with him that morning, there was no indication of him going anywhere from that conversation, so whatever may have happened, it would have to have occurred afterwards.” Raphael spoke true. At least he thought he did. Recounting the dialogue between him and Jan, there was talk of the rumors around town, and Raphael’s encounter with the blood gem monsters.

His eyes widened, as contemplation sunk in. Certainly not. Right?

“A worst-case scenario would be he could be in the woods.” The foreign man spoke, he was thinking about something. Trying to think up a lie, perhaps. Cezar gritted his teeth. Exhaustion wore on his mind, trying to think was like pushing a rope.

This man knew how to fight, and was certainly not an ordinary traveler. Was Gheorghe right about him? Maybe. Maybe this Raphael character was a different kind of problem entirely. There wasn’t enough to go off of.

Doesn’t matter. Action makes results. Cezar had other tools at his disposal. The foreign man was about to speak, as a chiseled log was tossed at his head. He dunked in time to avoid a wooden impact, but Cezar had closed the gap. The Răscruce native pulled out a small file, aiming to squish his intruder’s eyes.

Though he swung with purpose, his arm was cut several times. Small horizontal lacerations littered his arm, as Raphael kicked the file out of his hands.

“I told you, I’m not here for trouble!” Raphael noted Cezar was either stupid or desperate. He hoped the latter; the former would be just pathetic. Cezar turned to glare at him, noting the second knife in Raphael’s hand, held with familiarity and experience.

But Raphael sheathed them. “I’m going to see if I can find Jan. Please do us both a favor and not make this difficult. You want your son; I don’t want him hurt either.”

The older man glared, practicality having been discarded already. But he exhaled deeply. His temper was temporarily reclaimed, though the drive in his eyes remained.

Raphael turned, pushing open the doors of the workshop. He could hear children in the adjoining house, and what sounded to probably be Cezar’s wife with them.

”Who the hell are you anyways?” Cezar shouted. Raphael hated such questions.

“Someone who wants to do good, how about we leave it at that.” He turned and walked out. He wanted to sprint, but he mustn’t lend any credence towards Cezar’s false assumptions.

He walked and walked, brushing off sawdust from his pants. The noontide sun crept through some of the clouds. Surely the dusk would clear, otherwise the vampire would be free to roam even sooner.

Still, there was no time to waste. The woods had some answers. They had to, otherwise nothing made sense.

Otherwise, what could he possibly understand?

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The cloudy sky was slowly parting, but barely. Not fast enough for his liking, but there was nothing to be done about it. Simply press on and keep going.

Raphael was torn between running as fast as he could and taking his time. Worry filled him, but he did not want to find the answers. Still, he had to check.

It had not taken long to find the battle site, the destroyed trees near the lonely pond were familiar. Not welcoming, but familiar. The large boulder still stood across the way, the impact from the monster’s strikes still violently carved into its form.

Best to get to it then. He walked around, checking for anything and everything. What was he looking for? Ultimately, no idea. But anything would help at this point.

Focus, Raphael told himself. And perceive. His worry clouded his mind as well as his eyes. He closed them, and opened once more.

The ground in the area was disturbed, likely not just form the rain. Looking it over, there were traces of footprints, given how worn they were, likely from before the recent rain. Someone came here, following a similar path to him, looking around to site. Who would do that? Who would they find this place?

First option would be pure coincidence. Possible, but highly unlikely, the natives of Răscruce barely came into the woods aside from perhaps a hunter. It could have been a refugee or someone turned away by the town. But, given how far the site is from the town, that likelihood is far less.

Second option, someone knew of this place before the toad monster, and came here for some undisclosed reason. Perhaps. A possibility, but one founded purely of speculation, not even conjecture to point towards any particular reasoning.

The third option. Someone had learned of this place from the stories he told in town and investigated. While that would make him glad that someone took a chance to believe him, given how things have gone, this was not a herald of good news.

Raphael walked around. Was it a single person, or multiple? He followed a set of tracks, someone came in, walked around, then headed out. Following the trail, it led back into the woodline. But it was abruptly stopped by a second set of tracks the came up to it. Someone else was here, facing this visitor, and the visitors tracks end, with a slightly indention in the mud and grass showing something was dragged.

But most damning of all, nestled in the mud, was a faintly visible piece of bone and cartilage. Raphael grabbed leaves off of a branch to not touch it directly. He carefully lifted it off the ground, spotting a dismembered by still recognizable piece of bone, the skin discolored and the bone poking though sinew. A jaw bone, possibly the visitors.

A sad state of affairs for someone, but now was not the time. Someone came here, possibly from his word, checked out the site, and was killed for it. Not definite on the last point, but possible. A humanoid creature did this. There was only one creature that came to mind.

The footsteps of the second “person” were lumbering, awkward, the spacing between the prints meant the walking was unnatural or labored. Though he could not determine size, Raphael was familiar with such a thing.

Still, the jawbone would need to be examined. Looking it over, there were clawing and puncture marks on the inside. Someone inserted its digits into the mouth, tearing the flesh from the inside. Given how only the jawbone was here, the rest of the body must’ve been moved elsewhere. The interior marks suggested a creature’s right hand was inserted, and somehow ripped off form there. Was the other hand used in this violent act? Raphael couldn’t tell, this was all he had.

The thought of who this could have belonged to crept in uncomfortably. Someone died here, never to be seen again. But who? Emil, or Jan? The damage to the bone and skin made it impossible to tell.

Raphael knew he would have to give the bad news to one man soon. Worse, maybe both, if the other missing persons aren’t found soon.

But. If his hunch is correct, he might know where they are. One would hope not, but this is his cross to bear. Raphael made the trip back to the abandoned house, dread and ire blazing the dark path to the monster.

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She walked. And walked, and walked. Back and forth. Back and forth. The room shielded her, but it left her listless. Surely the clouds would shield her as well, if they would just block the damn sun. But it was inconsistent. If she went out, she could be burned again. But she wanted to hunt. But she could die.

So, she walked, and paced, and stumbled in the tiny house.

What was this called?

Boredom.

Absolute.

Mind-Numbing.

Agonizing.

Boredom.

She might die. Not out in the burning hell of the sun, but in the dark room. There was nothing to do. If she slept, she might miss out on more hunting time. But there wasn’t anything to do until then.

She walked. And walked. Her feet moved. Her eyes moved. Her mind moved.

What was she doing?

Walking.

Why was she doing it?

Because she couldn’t think of anything else?

Think of what?

Unknown.

Think of hunting?

Made her more anxious.

Think of anything else?

What else is there?

There is the sun.

Hate it.

There is hunting.

Love it.

There are humans.

Hate them.

There was her human.

Unknown.

Her human was weird. What did he want? Why was he weird? Other humans did certain things. Predictable things. Her human wasn’t. He ate like a human, talked like one, but he was weird. Not like the rest.

What made him different? Was it his blood? Was it his past? Was it something he did? Why was he weird?

Unknown.

He would feed her. Tell her no other humans.

…..It won’t last. The hunger needs more than that.

A feeling. Familiar. True.

But her human feed her all the same. She needed to not kill him.

Were there more weird humans like him?

Unknown.

If there were, she could eat all the time.

That sounded good.

Where was the human now?

Doing human things.

Like what?

Unknown.

She had no idea what humans actually did. They did their business from a distance, and died when she fed.

That was it. Animosity remained, yet she knew not why.

Unknown. Unknown. Unknown.

She stomped the wooden floor, shattering it. Frustration made for potent strikes, albeit poorly thought-out ones. Her human had better return soon, she might survive without him.

The door swung open, as her human stood in the entrance. Perhaps her luck would have changed.

“What did you do?” She knew not what he meant. She did recall the clothes and her face, she forgot to lick off the blood there. It wasn’t a pleasant taste, so she didn’t want to eat any more.

“I am….bored.” The words took a while to come to her. Talking like a human was still not simple. Or perhaps she needed more experience with words.

“You are bored enough to make a hole in the house?” She noted her foot’s current placement. With a hefty tug, she yanked it out of the hole. Nothing was broken; she was fine.

“.....Yes.” She replied. Her human walked in, keeping an eye on her as he did so. She stood there, the listlessness driving her mad.

Humans got bored too. What did they do to make it stop? Human things. What kind of things? She did not know. But they talked. The humans from earlier talked. Her human certainly talked. Maybe talking would help.

“What are you doing?” She walked over to the human, inspecting him. He had hunched over near the bed. He was in the spot where he could get that bag of his. It had his important stuff from what she recalled. Maybe he was checking to see if it was still there.

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Was her human lying to her? Humans could lie. She knew these. How? She did not know. She did know that humans could lie though.

“Is it important? It is important.” She stared at him. A new hunger filled her being. She wanted to know, to clear the fog in her head.

“It is not important to you, so leave it be.” He spoke with more weight in his tone. He stood up, looking her over once more. She was still confused. He said one thing, but it must be important to hide away.

“I want to know. I am bored.” Her gaze remained fixed on him. Even before her words, she recognized the human’s blood seemed to pulse faster than normal. Which was already faster than humans that weren’t aware of her. But now it was pumping more and more, the red of the crimson elixir darkening his skin ever so slightly.

“You do not need to know.” He held firmer, his tone darkening. “And you left the chest.”

“I was bored. And hungry.”

“And you killed them?” He was angry. She did not do what he told her to. Humans did get angry when that happened. But she was hungry, what else should she have done?

“They were already dead. The blood was not delicious” She responded plainly. Her human’s eyes shook. He was definitely angry. Angry humans were dangerous humans. She forgot about that. But her human would not hurt her. At least, he couldn’t do much that would stop her. It would be fine.

Her human looked at her, the eyes focused yet brimming to burst. His muscles seemed to relax, as he said nothing. He simply turned, and walked out the door, heading outside once more.

She relaxed, sitting on the worn-out bed. Her boredom had returned. But her human seemed to understand. Everything would be fine.

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Walking. More walking. Painful walking. Step by step. Trees, brush and dirt littered his path.

The hunger would not stop. He had his fill. But it wasn’t enough. Why? When was it enough?

When? When was it? Where? Woods. When. Don’t know. Hungry. Very hungry. He had eaten. Claimed his prize. He was hungry. He ate. The man had fed him well. But not enough.

There was a scent there, where the man had given him his meal. It had long faded. Familiar. Important. His. His?

There was more than one scent.

A man’s scent. Not the man’s scent he just had. But it was oh so familiar.

An ugly scent. Like his own. But muddy, murky.

A faint scent. Very familiar. To reclaim. To return.

Things recalled in his mind. Things made apparent, recalled by force. The hunger was forever. It was all there was, all there will be.

There was the hunt. The power. The desire. The suffering. The blood. Delicious.

But.

What was so important. What kept coming back?

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A Moonlit night. A name once known. A gift given, a gift meant by the stellar presence.

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My name.

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I am- !%&@#@^$.

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That wasn’t right. It wasn’t right. What was it?

It hurt to think. Thinking didn’t work, it didn’t bring answers, only hurt.

Hurt. Much hurt. Not right. Home. Go home. Home. No home.

No. Go home. Where home?

No home.

Made home. Home here. In forest. Made home. Place to eat. Place to hide.

Hide from what? Light. The sun. The death from the sky.

Why? It did not hurt him.

Why? It hurt her.

Her? Who is her.

Her is she. Her is me.

I am - !%&@#@^$.

A roar bellowed from him. Thoughts mixed and congealed together. What were they? His own, and yet not. Senses torn between now and then, a self that once was and one that was fading. Flesh grinded against flesh. He hunched over. Shoulder blades breaking, reforming, and breaking again. The flesh pulsed and bubbled, growing larger and larger. A blast of blood erupted from within, painting the ground behind him crimson, as another arm birthed itself.

He screamed louder, his plentiful hands and many fingers twisting and shaking. Fierce gales apparated around him. Trees, stone, and all other things around were impacted. The wind faded, as stones were sent flying, and bark was cut by unseen blades, falling off the static timber.

He smiled. This was power. This was what allowed greatness. This is what made him better than all others. This could help appease the hunger.

More.

There would be more. There must be more here.

There was more elsewhere.

Where?

Home. Go home. Go home and eat.

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“What was it then?”

“A demon. Something conjured by the devil. It had to be.”

“All of you people keep saying that. You sure it wasn’t someone trying to scare you, force you off your land and then claim it for themselves?”

“It ate my brother, I’m not fucking lying! It was a spider, I mean, like a spider, the size of a house.”

“We saw a massive fucking cow, it had horns all along it’s body. I don’t know what the fuck you’ve said you saw.”

“I don’t what the fuck we saw!”

“And no one knows what any of you are talking about!”

These conversations were nothing new. Confusion traveled plenty, carried by the displaced like the wicked carried the plague. Thankfully, no one in town had the illness, especially after the care was taken to distance that one family from the rest.

But even so, no relief came from the stories shared amongst the scared.

“Some beast attacked the church, we barely got away!”

“I heard someone saw some large behemoth attacked in Zori.”

“It had to be that she-beast, I swear it, I saw it attack the priest, it was eating him!”

“What kind of monster was it?” Iulia noted the conversation. She was stuck near such gossip through sheer proximity, but her encounter seemed vaguely familiar.

“It looked like a human, like a very old woman, but its skin was gaunt, but it had sharp nails, wrinkled hair, and fangs. And the eye, it was a blue, deeper than the sky.”

“I-I think I’ve seen that thing.” Iulia showed the marks on her arm, “It tried to eat me.” Long lacerations had healed over, while the puncture marks still stung even now.

“No way. Oh Lord, it that thing still here!”

“Are you sure you saw it?”

“You are all just making things up now”

“No, we’re not! It was real, too many people died because of it!”

“Then what was it?!”

“You don’t think….?”

“Vampire?”

Word between the few people lingered, spreading slowly but surely. Conversations held truths, at least to those that believed that they understood.

“I’ve haven’t seen my sister in days.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.”

“No, I’ve heard the baker’s son went out last night but hasn’t returned.”

“Wasn’t he seeing your sister?”

“If he was, I'll kill him.”

“If he wasn’t?”

“I might kill him anyways.”

“Hate to break to you, but I’m pretty sure those do like to do their business in the forest.”

“Before marriage? How blasphemous.”

“Like you’re a fucking saint, woman.”

“Those two aren’t the only ones though, I’ve heard some of the refugees asking about some of their own being unaccounted for. And some other people in town, I haven’t seen Jan or Emil for quite a bit.”

“Surely this isn’t a sign, right?”

“If it’s people going to the woods, perhaps it is. We should spread the word to stay away as much as possible, we don’t know much, but it’s better to be cautious.”

Disappeared or simply misplaced, people can tell when someone isn’t around. But this seemed to be far more than just something ordinary.

“I’m telling you, there were a hundred of them.”

“A hundred people being dead and still walking. Do you even hear yourself?”

“I know what I’m saying, one of them had a hole in his chest, the size of my fist. He was dead and still standing. If you don’t call that the work of evil, I don’t know what is.”

“You don’t know your ass from your dick, now get lost you damn loon. At least the other refugees can sell a sob story.”

“Please, you have to believe me, they were carrying something huge, that has to be something important.”

“If you don’t know what it was, then is it really important? Piss off already.”

Though, the absurd depends on who bears witness and who tells the tale. For many, absurdity is merely whatever is beyond the ordinary.

“I saw the wildest things out there.”

“Alright, hit me with it. What wild tales can you tell this time, Dinu?”

“When I was walking along the trail, I swear I heard gusts of wind like from a storm, and bolts of thunder shake the air, but it was a clear night. I went to check it out, and I saw trees burnt to a crisp, but the fire had already faded. The ground appeared to have risen up, like when a child tosses stones, there was a large thing of ice, just stuck into the ground, but it isn’t winter yet, so I don’t know where the ice came from. And the worst thing of all, I saw the trees around me were chopped and timbered, and there was a treehouse out there, like it was made by a madman. And I swear, I saw blood leaking from the wood. I ran back to town as fast as I could, I dunno what is out there.”

“Ha! That certainly makes for a fun story. I don’t fucking believe you, but that is one heck of a story.”

“I’m serious, I saw it, I could take you there myself.”

“Would you though?”

“Not after what I saw, no, but-but still!”

These conversations continued, people sharing and embellishing all the same. Some wished the offer the truth, others wished to relieve themselves of it with stories. Teodosie noted it. What he had seen, he could not ignore. The marks on his neck still stung, the terror still lingering in his eyes.

After some deliberation, he found the woman that spoke of an attack. It was Iulia. He had spoken to her once, maybe twice before. Big towns would do that, that and never really crossing paths for any reason. This reason however, was certainly not a pleasant one.

“Iulia, right?” He asked, trying to make sure. Names weren’t his strong suit.

“Oh, uh, you are Teodosie, right?” She asked, the older man’s sudden interest was a bit perplexing.

“You said you were attacked; can you describe it?’ He skipped formality entirely; grace and poise were irrelevant now.

“Um, well, it was like the stories from what the people of Zori have said. Not the ones about a pig, but a monster that looked like an old woman. I’m certain you’ve heard, but no one has believed me.” She rubbed her arm. The pain had faded, but the wound remained.

“Believing it, I’m still not sure myself, but I think we’re in the same spot here.” Teodosie lifted his coat collar, showing the puncture marks in his neck. Iulia could see them. Though her arm mostly bore the scars of clawed hands, the mark of piercing fangs was still present among her lesions.

“No. Did you see it as well? Oh God, that thing really is out there?” She asked, tears in her eyes welled, as though the pain had lingered for days, it feel too unreal to not be a dream.

“I saw it, I fought it, I managed to injure it, if only for a bit.” Iulia spoke of how it attacked her. Teodosie noted the difference in approach. The malignant monster had tried to grab her and eat as fast as possible. But it had cornered and grappled him, making sure he couldn’t get away.

And his encounter was after Iulia’s.

The monster was learning. This was no beast; it was a fiend.

Iulia was scared. So was poor Teodosie. But what could he do? Show his fear, when so many others felt the same. They didn’t know what he did. He had to do something. There was a monster out there, eating people, getting smarter with each passing day. The poor people that have disappeared. They must have been devoured by the female fiend.

Something must be done. He must act. If a single person could manage to injure the demon, then lots of people could surely slay it. It burned in the sunlight, that was its weakness. All prey had one, and now, the monster would become his prey.

Teodosie asked Iulia plainly, “Please, spread word with anyone you can, tell the people of Zori that they can get payback, and ask for them to gain aid from whoever they can. If this thing is also attacking those other towns, we can strike fast and end this disaster.”

Iulia stared, hope filling her eyes. This hunter could fell the monstrosity. She heeded the words, and set off immediately. Teodosie did the same, his experience and his reputation in town certainly helped.

He was concerned about word of some foreigner also speaking of monsters, but not like the one he had encountered. Surely nothing to count on, this other man was likely a liar or mad. Teodoesie knew what he saw, what he held his life in its cold hands.

He thought that he would not get much aid, but hope has a way of rewarding those who are patient. Iulia had returned to him within less than two nightfalls, dozens of his fellows ready to follow. Or perhaps find something to destroy. Either way, good would come of this.

Still, was it enough? No. No good hunter went unprepared. More people would always be helpful, aid from the church against a demon would be insurmountable. It had too, if such monsters existed, them God’s love must also exist. That and some soldiers under Viscount Rotaru would be a nice bonus.

He held his head high. Things would work out. They had to, for he was leading the charge.

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His stomping through the slowly drying mud reminded him of the vampire. But better he be rid of that monster as soon as possible. It was foolish to believe he could ever get that thing to behave, it was a monster without thought after all. Much like the people here. Mindless and arrogant, he tried to help, and they sought only their own unwitting destruction. Was this how Christ felt towards those that scorned him?

Raphael laughed. To compare himself to the “divine” would be foolish indeed. Without much else to do, what was there? Aside from waiting for the clouds to part. He knew he can’t leave today, any chance of the vampire following him was to be avoided. If the clouds cleared up tomorrow morning, he would be gone by dawn. He gave his warnings, did what he could, the people here could handle that thing if he could.

Was that presumptuous of him? Perhaps. But he could handle it, an entire town could probably do the same. He walked around town, the foot traffic heavy with people packed in the streets. Raphael had to step carefully and keep himself and his coin pouch guarded.

Begging was the common profession here. He was tempted to join them, if only because nothing else worked. But he mustn’t lessen himself amongst the rest of them.

Raphael punched himself in the gut. These people are desperate and scared, they did not ask for this nor deserve this. The rest however…..

He recalled asking around town for any aid, or to offer his own. Rejection, after refusal, after dismissal, after belligerent renunciation. It was infuriating. He kept his calm, but this was far worse than anything he had seen before. Gritting his teeth, he stepped on. He would keep going. Doing good should be its own reward. Getting paid should be second. But at this point, he could go for seconds.

Hours passed, as did his chances of success. The clouds were slowly parting further and further. He noted large groups of people walking around town, perhaps there was some commotion or motion to act on something. Hopefully it went well, some positive change would be nice right about now.

Turning a corner, he spotted a man stumbling and falling onto the ground. Mud caked his face, as Raphael ran over to him immediately. The man seemed slightly incoherent, as Raphael inspected him. His eyes were reddish, his mouth hung open, clearly dried out. He seemed unfocused and given his stumbling, likely dizziness. He was hungover, though with the accent of alcohol on his breath, likely already made himself drunk again.

Raphael gritted his teeth. This man was no help to anyone, let alone himself. But, who was he to look away, with someone in need right in front of him? He was no saint; he was no devil.

Sticking his arm underneath the drunken man, he lifted him up to have him rest on, he noticed some coins emptying themselves from the man’s pockets. They fell into the dirt, unnoticeable aside from the view directly above.

Without thinking, he placed them back into the man’s pouch, they were his after all. Raphael placed the man on the outside of the tavern. He pulled out his waterskin and the remaining bread he had, giving them to the sickly man. The man seemed to stir, taking them and consuming voraciously.

“Thank, *burp* thank you so much!” The man chowed down. Raphael noted he wished to save those for himself, but this would do. He could probably find more elsewhere.

“If you are already hung over, did you truly think more drinking would help?” He asked, figuring he knew the answer.

“Well, I was hurting before, but if I drink again, it’ll only hurt later! *hic*” Raphael was not surprised by the answer, just disappointed.

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“I know that! *hic* But, I dunno what to do.” The man was an emotional drunk by the looks of it, catching Raphael off guard. He chided himself for assuming things about others. “It’s, it’s just I keep screwing things up. I got money, I got luck, and *hic* yet I still can’t things go right. So, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Raphael had no words there. He turned, and sat down next to the man, his own drunkenness painfully fading.

“I suppose forgoing from consuming more alcohol would be best, though I figure you know this already.”

“Yeah, *hic* I know. But, nothing seems to be going right. I thought I had things figured out. My best friend is missing, my workers hate me, and I botched my chances with Iulia.” The man sighed, tears watering his dry mouth. He was certainly the emotional drunk.

“I understand. Communication errors and impulsive actions make for poor tidings.” He chastised himself, speaking without thinking. He had little details behind what particulars may have occurred in this man’s life. To arrogantly proclaim wisdom was imbecilic.

“You, you’re right. You, you’re *hic* so smart.” The drunken man’s speech slurred without fail. Typical, albeit pitiful. “I should, be smart, like you, smart guy.”

Raphael exhaled, though his chest remained heavy. “I am most certainly not. I wouldn’t be here if that was the case.”

The other man gazed with groggy eyes. “Did, didja make your lady mad?” Raphael held himself, whether to laugh or sneer, though he aimed such thoughts inward.

“You could say something along those lines. The witch I am with, I am trying to avoid, get away from at all costs.” He paused, “I am not married to her, just a traveling companion.”

“Oh, trouble on the road. Of life and of love, eheh, that one sounds good.” The man brought his fist up his face, and remembered he held no beverage in his hand.

“You, gotta, you, gotta, ohh, my head.” The man clutched his head before speaking again, “You gotta understand what she wants, it’s the only way to start a conversation, ya hear? Even if it’s something you don’t want, you gotta, gotta *hic, fuck. Figure it out. And listen, listen to her, willya? Don’t pull a me, never *hic* never pull a me.” The man’s most profound wisdom drifting off, vapors of insight soured Raphael’s tongue and cleared his mind.

“Not exactly the most applicable to my situation, but perhaps your acumen is something I need right now.” He sighed, placing his heads in his hands. He pulled them down, eyes still witnessing a bleak town with a bleaker future. Who was he to look away, from here or from others. He was no saint, and he will not be a devil. “But I thank you nonetheless.29Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKp4fhxmsh8
“I *hic* *hic* forgot. My name, is, is Bodgan. Nice to meet you, fellow fuck-up!” He pat Raphael on the back; the words hit harder than the slap.

“Raphael. Uhh, likewise.” Flabbergasted words slipped off his tongue, no chance of taking them back now. But Bodgan didn’t seem to mind.

“You ain’t from ‘round here? Where ya from, where ya going?” Bodgan asked with curiosity, more innocent than anything. Either his drunkenness removed the local hostilities or removed any sense of inhibition completely.”

“I hail from France, and I’m heading to Bucharest.” Raphael responded with a blanket statement, “I’m training to become a doctor.”

“Huh. No wonder you helped with my hangover.”

“I can’t help you once the next one comes. You will have to handle that on your own.”

“I *hic* know. But, it sucks, it fucking sucks. All these people, and I’m still alone.”

Raphael knew all too well, for far too long. But something recalled in his mind.

“What was that about your best friend? You said he went missing?”

“Yeah, my, my buddy, my pal, my friend, Denis. I haven’t seen him for a few days, since the last Sunday. I, I saw him the night prior. He said he was gonna head out to the woods for some timber, he sells wood to the Nemes family.”

Last Sunday. Raphael only kept track of the days thanks to whatever days church held Mass. The day after his failed persuasion of the town authorities. The vampire hadn’t collected any human blood during that time, and was idling about.

Raphael’s eyes widened. “Have there been other people missing as well?” He knew of Jan, Emil, are the uncounted amounts of plague victims that traveled and stayed outside the town.

“Yeah, a fair bit of folk haven’t been seen lately *hic*. It’s why there’s a bunch of people getting up in arms about it.” Bodgan replied, his head starting to sway. His drunkenness seemed to be fading faster than he expected.

Raphael stood up swiftly. “Thank you for the talk, Bodgan. I must make haste.”

The sobering man waved. “Good luck, on whatever it is.” The last syllable escaped his mouth as he fell headfirst onto the ground, a snore escaping his lips nigh-instantaneously. It was slightly impressive.

But time was not to be wasted. Things weren’t right. He had to find the vampire. If his hunch was correct, he, and perhaps the whole town, would need its power.

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Heavy steps paved the drying streets. People brushed away people, as the crowd moved toward the church. Guidance was needed in trying times, lest they cast their ire blindly into the world.

Teodosie led the march. He was no soldier, but this was no war. It was a hunt, with every able-bodied individual being necessary. He alone was capable, but vulnerable. Humans were strongest together; no beast nor monster shall overturn such a law. Still, he knew what he knew not. Namely, wisdom and information on such a creature. Surely, the preachers of God ought to know more about those that would oppose Him.

Given the clouds slow parting, either they strike soon with some odds or risk further death tomorrow. No more. No more shall anyone here fear that vampire's fangs. No more will its gaze haunt him when he closes his eyes.

People gave looks towards him, as the church grounds were littered with the distressed and weary. How many more filled the streets? That he was not certain of. How many more were turned away from Răscruce? Even less so. How many were lost to that bitch-beast’s sharpened maw? Too many. The names of those missing lingered from the taverns, and from the worried voices of those in town.

Yessenia. Adrian. Alexandreina. Eugen. Corina. Horea. Natalia. Jan. Leunta. Paul. Daniela. Calin. Amelia. Valerian. Olga. Emil. Petru. Victor.

People he knew, in person or passing. People he knew were gone, likely to never be seen again.

Could he have killed the vampire?

He could have. He must have. But he didn’t. That will change, he was certain.

His pondering ended as he approached the steps to the church doors. Father Gheorghe was there, likely aware of their arrival. It was hard to miss a crowd of people approaching, even with a town filled to the brim with people.

“Teodosie. Ever the absent member of the flock. What might I do for you, child?” Gheorghe was a right cunt. But, nonetheless, there were bigger fish to fry than him.

“Father. I come asking for aid or guidance or the utmost urgency.” Teodosie gathered as many big words as he could muster. He didn’t want to piss off the old fogey.

“Does it require this many people? Surely you don't all need reconciliation immediately?” The priest asked, somewhat jokingly. It was bullshit, but just let it slide.

“Me and others have proof of a monster out in the woods, one that I believe is responsible for the recent bouts of disappearances.” He replied, his tongue burning to continue, and scalding over having to sound uppity.

“Not again. I told that fiend that such lies will hold ground here. Surely you are not a fool to come here with such paltry words.” Father Gheorghe stood his ground. Teodosie was curious, who else might have known about this monster. If they tried to warn Gheorghe as well, why wasn’t anything done about it?

Teodosie remembered. Gheorghe is a fucking prick. Of course he wouldn’t listen. But, might as well get the bare minimum and hurry up while the sun still peeked through the gray veils above.

“I bring proof of the monster’s deeds.” Teodosie pulled out his arrows, still covered in the vampiric blood, as he showed it off to Gheorghe. The old man is not impressed, as to be expected. Teodosie however steps towards a patch of sunlight on the ground, extending the bloodied arrow. As it touches the light, it ignites, as first sizzling before rapidly combusting and disintegrating, fading like acid before vanishing like dust. The arrow was destroyed in the process, thankfully he had more if needed.

Gheorghe was astonished. Burning blood from a hunter's arrows. It would seem biblical, had he not seen it with his own eyes. He knew Teodosie was an urchin of a man, but certainly no liar. A native to Răscruce. Trustworthy, albeit barely.

Teodosie approached his once more, pulling away a scarf around his neck. Puncture marks adorned his neck, discoloration paling the skin. It looked to be healing, though quite painfully.

“I have seen the creature myself and harmed it. Others have witnessed it as well. And it yearns for blood.” Yearns certainly sounded better than ‘it’s a blood hungry bastard’.

Gheorghe noted the people present alongside Teodosie. At least 30 people from what he gathered. It was doubtful they all saw this supposed creature. And frankly, he did not care. But, if they wished to deal with it, so be it.

“Well, are you wishing for me to come with? I do not make for a great hunter myself.”

“No, Father. Merely asking if you have anything or know anything that might be of aid.”

Gheorghe paused. What was there to know? Nothing. Teodosie saw this supposed creature. It was not the same as that was described by the heretical heathen beforehand. He had no clue.

“Well, in the words of the Lord, ‘Your hand will be lifted up against your adversaries,

And all your enemies will be cut off.’ I am certain you will be fine with all in your power, and under the watchful eye of the Lord, our God!” Gheorghe raised his voice for the crowd to hear, as a fervor filled their eyes. Victory was certain for all.

All but Teodosie. Gheorghe was no damn help at all, other than hyping up the crowd. Still, it was better than nothing. All least this rag-tag entourage would be less likely to run at the first sign of danger. He was no leader, so maintaining cohesion until the job was done would be the greatest obstacle.

He turned to exit the church grounds. The amount of people present unnerved him. All knew something was wrong. Why must he be the one to shoulder the burden?

Nevertheless. That was one option down. Two to go.

Or rather, one to go. Cezar seemed to be in a rut, judging by the state of his workshop. There was no need to bother him, that and given the amount of time it would take, getting tools or supplies prepared wouldn’t do, whatever they could get know would have to do.

Teodosie helped himself to wood and supplies, he could probably return them later. If this failed, he would be dead anyways, so what did it matter? The rest of the crowd brandished whatever supplies or instruments of destruction they could find. Surely a pitchfork could do some damage to the monster with it arrow to the knee could.

Last stop, the Viscount’s home. A fancy estate near the road leading north. This was the last place he ever expected to be. Then again, he never expected any of this.

Teodosie told the crowd to wait. The nobleman’s temperament was unknown to him, better play it safe. The door opened as a middle-aged servant woman looked at him.

“Hello, umm, can I, communicate with the master of the house?” Welp, that was a fumble. The woman looked over Teodosie’s shoulder to see a crowd of people. She then swiftly shut the door, and likely went to find the Viscount, given the audible sounds of yelling from behind the door. The betters of society certainly were oddities.

A few minutes go by, as Teodosie tries his best to present himself. Shoulders straightened, brushing his hair to the side, seem as presentable as a lesser man could. The door swung open again, as a man with hastily assembled clothing opened it.

“Please tell me there isn’t a fire or anything, or God forbid you try to start one.” Teodosie could see the water dripping from the man’s hair. He sure picked a poor time to ask serious questions.

“Not if all goes well. I and some others from town are heading out to kill the monster behind the disappearances.” Teodosie sounded earnest, he thought at least. The viscount noted this.

“He wasn’t lying after all then. Uhh, by all means, good luck with that.” He went to close the door, as Teodosie grabbed it, his single hand matched the force of the viscount's two-handed tug.

“I ask if you can offer us aid, surely you have some people that work for you that can help. Even a man or two would be great.”

“Unfortunately, most of the people under my employ are trying to make sure all the refugees in town don’t end up killing each other or starting fights. And besides, moving a bunch of people in these distressing times could cause people to panic. So, I am afraid I cannot do that.” He muttered quickly; he looked to be shivering. “But, if have proof or results of any kind and return, I will see what I can do.”

This man was also of no help. What a waste. “Sure. Sure. We’ll take care of it.”

As if. This was a monster, not a man. There were no guarantees here. But someone had to do it. Best it be him then. His grip loosened for but a moment as the door shut in front of him.

He sighed, best to get back to work. The crowd of people looked at him, tensions building. A single fuse could ignite the powder keg.

“He said he will try and offer help in time. We have to move now.” He said. Commanding was not his strong suit, but he walked all the same, heading towards the abandoned house. The mob followed suit, weapons in hand and eyes in ire.

This would work. It had to. Everything would be solved.

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Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. THUMP. Boots battered the ground. She was upset. Her human had not come back in a while, and the boredom was breaking her further. So, back to the woods she went.

Was there anything to find?

Unlikely.

Was there anything better to do?

Less likely.

It was all the same, trees, and leaves, and plants, and bugs, and stuff. Nothing important. Not blood. Not her meals.

She stomped again. Why were humans so weird? She did not know. Why do questions keep happening? She hated it.

Her parading halted suddenly. The familiar scent was faint, but the vivid recollections enticed all the same.

There was blood to be found. She sprinted, following the trail eagerly. More food. More blood. More life.

Running and running, she skidded to a halt at the trails end. She looked, finding the scent to be somewhat fresh. The splatters on the ground and nearby tree confirmed it.

The blood in the dirt was filthy, but she licked it up all the same. Nothing else to do or eat made for minimal alternatives. The blood of the tree was harder to obtain. Tantalizing, as she let it go, nearly getting a splinter in her tongue.

There was an object by her feet. Humans called it a knife. Or was it dagger? It was smaller the ones her human used. Covered it blood. It was only a few drops, but the smell was oh so familiar.

Hers. Hers to consume. Hers to reclaim. Hers and she.

Her jaw widened, the teeth sharpening in glee. What was hers was nearby. She grabbed the knife. A human must’ve found what was hers. Or something else did, and then found a human. It mattered not. She would find what was hers.

She scurried up a tree, looking around for signs. The scent on the blade was present, but the scent ended there. So, something nearby should tell her where to go. Trees with pieces broken and torn appeared in her view. That would be the way forward.

She leapt off the tree and followed the path of destruction as she always did.

Following the trail, she notes more signs of human having been present, bits of clothing, more blood that she licked as best she could, pieces of flesh and bone.

Something was almost as hungry as she. Almost. The trail seemed to end. Something happened here. And that’s all she knew.29Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1SJYxmbh1r
She stomped her foot. So close. And yet nothing. The trees around her shook, and then silence.

Until there was breathing. Hurried, heavy and human.

Her grin widened. This would do for now.

She lowered her chest, keeping her weight close to the ground. The earth below was dry by now. Carefully steps, nary a sound present. But the breathing remained. A panicking human. A scared one. A fun one.

It was close. Not moving. Hiding. She listened once more. She could not detect it. Her gritted her teeth. Her senses were far greater than this. Right?

An idea emerged. Her human was affecting her thoughts. She grabbed a nearby fallen branch, and held it. She pulled back her arm, before chucking it at a tree as hard as she could.

Splinters scattered as the wood shattered. A figure rapidly emerged from behind some brush, seeking to emulate the splinters. It ran as she gave chase. Less than a few seconds passed, as she had pounced on it from behind. A human no doubt. A male. Not like hers. Not the other one she had seen alone here.

“No! No!” He tried to push her off, but to no avail. She grinned, savoring the moment.

She bared her fangs, and bit down. He screamed, the pain nowhere as delicious as the elixir within him. He squirmed and struggled, but that merely only lasted a few seconds.

Delicious. Filling. The hunger dulled ever more. More. More. MORE.

She yanked her head off the human. It felt wrong. So very wrong. Blood pooled from the human’s neck. It was there to take. But she had another idea.

“You want to live. Bring me others. I do not kill you.” Her human was useful, but not enough alone. She would have more, one way or another. The human merely stared. The fear was wonderful to witness, though she knew not why. But he said nothing, which was not helpful.

Maybe this human was dumb. Another bite might help there. She bared her fangs once more. But, for all the human’s fear, the pain beckoning him to tend to his neck, he looked elsewhere. His face was full of fear. But she was not he sought to flee from.

What else other than her could that be?

She did not know.

She grabbed him, and repeated “Bring me more.” The human only shook his head, looking away from and back at her rapidly. She removed herself from him, picking him up by the shoulder and tossing him up. He looked at her, and ran.

This would probably work. She had his scent after all. Still, something for later.

Either way, what was hers was somewhere in these woods. She wanted it, her legs ready to run.

But, she recalled the last two attempts. Her human helped her then. And she got what she sought. Her human might be good for something somehow. If she got her human with her, she could get it, no problem. Like a person that brought luck. He was her lucky human.

He was upset somehow. Humans got upset. But humans also got happy. She never saw her human happy. But he was helping her, so he should be. He would be happy in due time.

She instead turned to return to the house. She would find her human and get what was hers. This was looking to be a good day after all.

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Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.

Many feet pounded away at the earth as they followed the leader. The hunter Teodosie led the way. He knew where the house lay, and the monster within.

The clouds had not parted fully. Safety was not assured in the slightest. But, if he stalled his feet, those behind him would do the same, or worse.

The abandoned house was within the sight of the crowd. They knew of the family that stayed there. A few had volunteered, or rather told, to grab and burn the bodies. No one wanted to come. No wonder a monster would hide here.

Teodosie helped up his hand, stopping firmly. He spoke in a quiet tone. “I will get close. If the creature is in there, we burn it to the ground. If it comes out, we capture it. If it isn’t, we start laying a trap. Understood?”

Many heads nodded in agreement. Simplicity was the best approach, especially with large groups of people. Teodosie moved forward, a sudden chill creeping in. Each step away from the crowd, each step away from those that looked to him to lead. The lessening of responsibility would be comforting. But, approaching this place brought no comfort. Any mistake would be his last.

The cloudy sky was slowly clearing more and more. But it wouldn’t be enough. Not to kill the vampire effectively. Still, even small patches of sunlight could deter it.

Teodosie shook his head. This was a predator he was facing. No time for distractions. He had already encroached upon the door. He readied his bow, edging the door ajar, ever so carefully.

The creature did not breathe from what he gathered during the last encounter. It inhaled when in pain, likely to release its unholy screams. But still he heard nothing. His heart pulsed. It had to be in there, where could it be? But even so. The crowd was counting on him. Stares drilled into his skull, painfully probing more and more.

He burst open the door, the tension springing him forward. He swung around, his arrow ready to fire. He looked around, left to right, all around. So much so his eyes could not keep up; he nearly spun himself dizzy.

But. The house was empty. No one was present, even in the dark corners.

He lowered his breath and exhaled. A momentary relief for now. But where was the vampire? Likely hunting. If that was the case, this was the time to set a trap. The classic strategy against a more powerful prey.

He stepped outside beckoning the crowd to approach. They did so cautiously, as some piled into the house and others staying outside, either serving as watchdogs or too scared to enter the home. It was a plague house after all, decrepit and cursed.

And yet, relatively tidy. Someone had clearly been living here. The place was cleaned out and made somewhat habitable. A member of the crowd said he had come here to help dispose of the bodies. It was not this clean then.

Teodosie wondered. Did the vampire do this? Was it intelligent? If so, trying to set a trap might be harder than he suspected.

He looked around while the rest of the crowd began work on setting things up. Threw was a station for handling game meat outside. The vampire surely had no reason for such things, right? He looked it over. Tools were kept clean and organized. Though given the sheer number of bones and such, there was certainly a lot of prey caught. No wonder he could barely find anything to hunt as of late. There was likely enough meat consumed here to make a normal man sick of it for a long while.

The inside had oddities as well. The bed appeared used, yet, he noted footprints on the room. Looking them over, it could tell right away. There were two sets. Was there another vampire? If so, then this task went for absurd to near-impossible.

He had no proof either way, but even getting one might be enough to learn how to kill these things faster. The footprints also lead him to the bed again. Did the two creatures share the bed? He couldn’t tell.

Teodosie turned to head back out when he spotted something under the bedframe. Grabbing it, he found a satchel of some kind. Inside was money, some metal tools he was unfamiliar with, and some other do-dads. Most notably was a letter. At least that’s what he believed they were. He could not read, and begrudgingly asked a member of the crowd to do so for him.

A gaunt looking man approached, and took the letter. He looked it over and squinted, before giving his findings.

”I have no fucking idea. It could be Greek for all I know.”

“What’s Greek?”

“Something I don’t know. I heard someone else say that. But this is in some foreign language, might be best to keep it for someone else to figure it out. Maybe the viscount knows someone?”

Teodosie agreed, taking back the letter and placing it back in the satchel. He left it on the bed, it clearly wasn’t important.

Still, there was no time to waste. Teodosie gathered the crowd and spoke. “The creature isn’t here right now. But it will return. I don’t know how much time we have. So, let’s hurry up and get to it.”

Clearly, he was no orator, but a man of action is a man to follow. The crowd followed his lead, gathering their wood, chains, and weapons. Teodosie made sure to covered them with dirt and mud to hide their scents. This would be a successful day indeed.

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It was a successful day indeed. Not perfect, but successful. She made her uneventful return to the abandoned house. The hunger was dulled for now. It would have to do.

Her clothing stuck to her as it was covered in more blood, mixed with some fresh meat she managed to acquire on her way back, and all the blood she found herself covered in since after that night with the fire. The blood from her prey was an invigorating scent, but made the clothing unwieldy to move in when it dried. Why was she wearing clothes anyways? Because her human made her. Why? Unknown.

Her human was weird. But he was useful, so this was okay.

She approached the clearing, and noted a bunch of wooden structures here and there. They were not there before. They were oddly shaped, some covered with brush, and some with dirt.

They were curious things indeed. But they made no sense to her. Maybe her human put them out or something. She sniffed around, only finding more scents of the natural area around her. With nothing else to do, she entered the house. The door seemed to have been left open, but it wasn’t important.

She looked inside. Her human still wasn’t back. She sighed. That was what humans did, right? It wasn’t like her. Was it not like her? What was like her then? What was right, what was wrong. What was normal, what was not?

Questions.

They irked in her head. Something close yet far kept gnawing at her head. She scratched at her skull, the long nails pushing through the mangled hair.

Why?

What?

How?

Who?

Her mind flared up, as she clutched her head. Thinking was too much. The hunger would return soon enough. She would rest, and things would be fine for a while. Yes. Things would be fine.

She stepped forward, finding resistance pushing against her neck. Something was impeding it; a metallic smell was below her. And the familiar scent of human sweat behind her.

She rapidly began to twist herself around, and felt a sharp pain in her knee. She bent down on the other one, before that one also felt pain course through it. She saw protruding pieces of metal pierce through them. A familiar sensation and experience. Something that went unfinished.

Before she could move, the force in front of her neck now pulled behind. Her balance was removed, as she found herself being dragged. The safety of the house grew distant in her vision, as she found herself being pulled outwards. She felt around her neck, finding metal rings around it. Chains. Something was pulling her with chains. They must have been placed on her while she was thinking. Thinking wasn’t good. Thinking only brought pain.

Her knees were still in pain. But they would heal. The pieces of metal tore at her flesh. But her flesh tore back, the pieces being crunched and expelled slowly.

She turned on her back, her chest tearing against the ground, but she could see her attackers. A whole horde of humans, many of them pulling on a long chain that held her by the throat. Truly, she would have a great feast. If not for these chains, and that human with the pointy things.

She tried to grab the ground to stop the momentum of her unwilling movement. Pull, the earth had no grip for her to hold. She tried pressing her foot on the ground, but she was moving too fast. She punched the earth instead, hard enough to send her off the ground for a moment. The chain’s tension loosened for just a bit, as she swiftly placed her left foot on the ground. It was healing, and her arms still worked.

The humans had games called tug-of-war. She remembered that. Somehow. She could beat them at their own game. A smirk formed on her face as she pulled, many of the humans falling forward. This was fun, indeed.

The smirk changed into a grimace, as her knees felt another sharp pain. She looked down to see more pointing things protruding from them. She screeched, her balance giving way again. More humans had gotten up and continued to pull on the chain. She was dragged forward once more, as she could see her doom before her. A patch of cloud had parted, as the wicked light was before her. She tried to force herself up once again, but more pointy thing pelted her joints.

More in the arms, even more in the legs. Her options were limited. She screeched, as the light enveloped her body.

Burning.

Pain.

PAIN.

DYING.

NO.

NO!!!

“RRRRRAAAAHHHHH!!!” She screamed, the light disintegrating her more and more. Her clothes heated from the charring skin, the smell of burning flesh and blood filling the air.

The crowd watched as the screaming continued. This was a vampire. The monster that was terrorizing their homes. That destroyed homes and towns, forcing the survivors elsewhere in its path of carnage. Good riddance.

But the clouds move once more. Though thinner, the peeking sunlight was not stationary. The light faded from the creature's body, as the burning stopped.

Teodosie was astonished. This was arguably the dumbest plan anyone could have come up with. Making shitty disguises and covers while having someone sneak up behind the vampire and wrap the chain around its neck was not bold, it was stupid. But, fuck it, if it works it works. The damn stupid was impeccably stupid. Whatever other thing levied here clearly was the brains of the bunch.

Keeping it unable to move or fight back was essential. He kept firing arrows into the joints, making sure it did not heal fast enough to move, while the rest of the crowd wrapped it in chains. Hopefully this ensured it couldn’t move or break free, even without its ungodly strength. But there was no reason to take any chances. ….

The crowd watched as the creature’s skin gradually healed itself. The disintegrated and searing flesh slowly oozed blood that covered the wounds. Such an unnatural sight assured them that their deeds were just. A few grab rocks and stones, tossing them at its head for good measure.

“Stop it. We gotta make sure it can’t break free.” Teodosie chastised them. The vampire may have deserved it, but that wouldn’t help kill it.

“Then let's tie it up here, and nail its limbs into the ground.” A crowd member spoke. Otters murmured and agreed. Teodosie considered that as well, but even so, it’s wouldn’t be enough. This thing was strong, giving it any chances would not do.

He looked around. Should the thing possibly escape, it would immediately try to attack, flee into the house, or flee into the woods. Neither option was great. The crowd clearly weren’t unable to fight this thing, and if it ran, there would be no second chances.

They would have to move it somehow. The day was approaching dusk in due time, the afternoon sun was surely making its way towards its daily descent. And the clouds here were too thick and sporadic to be reliable.

“WE wrap this thing up, and take it to the edge of town. Show the town we caught the beast and burn it at the stake under the light of the sun. Hurry up now!” Teodosie took charge. Was this a good plan. Fuck no, he had no idea what was good. Did anyone at this point?

But, if he took action, others would follow. They had too. The crowd grabbed hold of the chains that secured the vampire, the sheer weight of it was more metal than monster. It couldn’t move other than its head, as the crowd tied up the chains to be dragged by some horses back to town. A fitting end for a malignant creature, as a patch of light hit its face once more. Its vile screech rattled everyone’s ears, but hopefully soon, it would haunt them no more.

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An ungodly screech haunted his ears. Raphael had been making a brisk pace towards the abandoned house. Surely, he could find the vampire, and figure out something out. He would have to apologize. Then again, would the creature even understand such a thing?

It did not matter now. That shriek was all too familiar. Raphael cast aside caution and ran. There were bigger things to be concerned with; having the vampire dead meant no one would be safe.

He approached and saw a large crowd of people, 30 or so, looking to be even more. The house was surrounded by them, with wooden cover placed here and there. What were they doing? Why were they here?

He saw horses dragging a large mass of chains in a bundle. The sunlight above pouring upon confirming his suspicion. The vampire had been captured, and screamed like hell from the pain.

Raphael gulped. If not for the new context, he would be relieved. He knew as such. But, given the more likely alternative currently happening, this was a worst-case scenario.

“What is going on here?” He asked hurriedly, as the horses kept trotting along, albeit very slowly, given the sheer weight. A crowd member turned and looked, while others looked and spoke among themselves. He had forgotten he was a pariah for only a moment. This would not be good.

“We got the fucker that’s been attacking other towns and taking people here. We kill it, and everything works out.” A member of the crowd close to him spoke up. Raphael noted other members whispering amongst themselves. He was surely known already to some.

He walked around, getting close to the vampire. The sunlight had faced from its face, the head was charred and seared. “With all due respect, that will not make people’s homes return. And likewise, I am certain this monster is not the cause of recent disappearances.”

Another member spoke up, “Are you mad? It’s a monster, and it eats people. What more do you need?” The crowd agreed. There was payback in their eyes. The vampire may have deserved it, but now was not the time.

Raphael retorted, “That is true, but it is not the only one. There are more out there, and I believe another one is behind the disappearances.” Murmuring within the crowd grew. Doubt over his words most likely, his status as persona non grata only exacerbated it.

“You would defend this thing? Some unwanted bastard forsaken by God?” The question pierced Raphael, and the pitchfork the man carried looked like it might do the same.

“In the interest of everyone’s safety and for some semblance of fairness, I would. Rather begrudgingly, but yes.”

The crowd continued its whispers. Fancy words tended to throw off those driven by emotion. About 30% of the time from his estimations. But Raphael kept his ground. The vampire’s eye remained shut. The pain must have ben excruciating. Its hunger would escalate rapidly if carelessly unleashed.

A larger man stepped out from the crowd. He carried a bow over his shoulder, with a quiver that looked almost empty. Either he was low on ammunition or he spent it all. Given this state of affairs, likely the latter. The crowd seemed to focus on him. He must be the leader here.

“Alright, who the hell are you?” The man asked. Given the rest of his gear, Raphael could tell he was a hunter. It clicked now, this was the person that the vampire attacked and that got away. This inevitability was sure to come. A shame he didn’t leave town sooner.

Raphael could see the house. No one had his satchel. He could try and grab it and go.

“My name is Raphael. I am a traveling doctor in training. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Raphael kept it cool, but quick. There was no time for frivolities.

“Teodosie. Mind if I ask a question?” The larger man was quick as well.

“By all means.” Raphael replied.

“You’re the one living here with this thing, aren’tcha?” Raphael felt his throat catch. The crowd’s whispers grew louder. Raphael was all too familiar with the stares of hatred.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Raphael knew he had no time to come up with a good lie. Every second wasted was another increment of doubt placed upon him. Before he continued, Teodosie grabbed him by his shirt collar.

“You let this thing live? You let a bloodthirsty monster, like this live, free to attack whoever it wanted! You would let something that should have never been born into this world live?!” The yelling pounded in his ears, shaking bones and temper alike.

“What was I supposed to do?! It would have killed me all the same, and then gone after everyone without any of you able to stop it at all! Do you think I wanted this?!” Raphael gulped. He had not meant to yell in return. Teodosie was shocked. The crowd grew anxious.

“It attacked me and others in town, are you aware of that?”

“I am. I am not happy about it either.”

“Then how did you plan to keep it tamed?”

“I offered myself. It feeds me, I feed it. No one else. I am only human, after all.” Teodosie pulled upon Raphael’s jacket. He saw the bandages, all across his arms and neck. His eyes looked at Raphael, recognizing wounded prey. But the eyes locked, noting a will that would not yield.

The crowd had weapons drawn. Teodosie spoke, “Why in that house. It was condemned by the plague.”

Raphael simply replied. “I do not fear the plague. And besides, I made sure to cleanse it.”

Teodosie merely glared again. “If you agree about this thing, why interfere now. Just leave and don’t look back.”

Raphael could see the inside of the house from here. His satchel was on the bed, but it looked full. It should have everything he needed. But even so….

“Because there is something worse out in the woods as we speak. Something that has already killed, and I am certain will continue to kill. The vampire hunts it. If one of them dies, the other is weakened enough to be finished off.”

Teodosie appeared to ponder the words. A member of the crowd spoke up, “Get rid of him!” Teodosie in turn shot the speaker a glare, before turning to Raphael. The appeal to pragmatism seemed to pay off.

“How certain are you?” Teodosie asked.

“Very much. I know the vampire could not have done the attacks, it has no reason or ability to lie, and it was here for most of the time when people started going missing.”

The statement of logic seemed to take hold. The crowd grew restless, inching closer upon the two men. Raphael kept his hands free. Not sudden movements. Keep eyes on him. He could tell the vampire was recovering slightly. Freeing it was not ideal, but given the complete unknowns of what could be out there…..

Better the devil you know after all.

Teodosie looked him over, and stole a glance at the crowd. A single moment could throw everything to shit. He sighed.

“Look, just looking at ya, I can tell you have been in a rough spot. I blame you for bringing this creature here. But, thankfully, we have it under control now. And if there is another monster like it, then we can probably handle it.” He looked at the vampire wrapped in its metal cocoon. It was rough, but doable. With more time and preparations, another monster could be handled easily.

Raphael stared him down with the utmost seriousness. “I have fought such creatures. They do not fear the light, nor can they be easily captured. I barely survived with the vampire’s, erm, ‘assistance’.” A partial lie. He had only encountered the two at night, so that was a fib on his part. Better safe than sorry however.

But the blood gem-created monsters were by no means within the realm of ordinary men. He continued to draw breath only because the vampire’s sheer force slew the monsters for him.

“If we get rid of one, then we can focus on the other. We kill this thing in town, it won’t kill anyone else here.”

“I am certain it did not, despite its eagerness to do so.” He looked, seeing the blue eye of the vampire staring back at him. Despite its thrashing against the chains, the gaze attested to his words. It snarled and tried to break free. Like an animal, no malice echoed from its being.

Teodosie patted his hand on Raphael's shoulder. “Relax then, we got this. I mean, your ass is definitely in deep shit, but given what you know, maybe you’ll get a light punishment.” He walked, urging the horses forward, as the vampire was dragged off.

Raphael stood stunned. What was there to do? Try and defy an entire town? Fight some monster of unknown ability, location and nature? Help a creature whose existence hinges on the suffering of others? He was but a man.

The crowd followed suit after its impromptu leader. Raphael shook his fists. He said nothing. A sigh escaped him as his fingers lost the tension. He turned to head into the house.

Before he could react, a blow impacted his throat. He caught his neck, trying to capture any air he could, before he was tackled to the ground. Dirt violently pressed against his face, as his legs and arms were grabbed by many hands. He had no time to speak.

“You damn bastard. This is what monsters like you get.” He heard a familiar voice, a member of the crowd he had missed. It was Anton, holding the jawbone Raphael had found. The rage in his eyes told who the bone previously belonged to.

Raphael tried to speak, “I found it in the woods, I did not kill anyone!”

Another impact landed right on his head, as his limbs were rendered immobile. The smell of dirt fell on him as the boot lifted. A rope was lassoed around him, as he was dragged into the house. Sure, it was where he wanted to be, but certainly not how.

He saw the faces of the crowd. Murder was in their eyes. And he once again made for the easy target.

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Stuck. Stuck. Get out. Stuck. Pain. So much pain. The light came and went as she was dragged along; it was peeking through the clouds more and more. She could barely recover in time before the next one hit. She screamed each time. The humans that dragged her looked happy, they did that when they got wanted they wanted.

Her human didn’t save her. He should have. He should. He is hers after all. How would he? She did not know.

One human versus a lot of humans. Her human was smart. He could figure out something.

She pulled on the chains. Her arms were bound, right in front, left behind. She pulled her right arm; the chain it yanked her neck forward. Likewise in reverse for the left. It only grew tighter the more she struggled.

She gritted her teeth. How could they do this? How did they do this? She was strong. She could break these. But here she couldn’t. How did they do it?

She pulled more and more. The pressure on her neck intensified, crushing and tearing all the same. It might tear oof her neck she if tried.

Would she survive it?

Unknown.

How could she get out?

Unknown.

She pulled and thrashed, but nothing could be done. She was dragged further and further. In between the blinding light, whenever she healed enough to see, there were humans. All looking down at her. Emotions on their faces she could not parse. They were confusing. They made no sense. It was all frustrating. She could eat them all, if only she could move.

Buildings moved past her vision. Light seared her eyes; she could only hear the voices as she was dragged further.

Pain.

Loud.

Stuck.

Confusion.

Hunger.

HUNGRY.

She snarled. The hunger crawled from her stomach, tearing at her mind. But she was stuck. She was hungry. And stuck.

How to escape? She did not know.

How to know? Her human might know.

Her human wasn’t here. Where was he?

Unknown.

He asked questions. He solved problems.

Could she solve this?

She did not know.

She knew the hunger. It would claim her soon enough.

Her fangs sharpened. They must be cleansed with blood soon.

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Pain. Hunger. Walking. There were some noises far away. People. People that seemed scared. Excited. Anger. Ecstatic. But he was hungry.

Home. Home is where the heart is. Home is where to go when hungry. He had walked. For a long while he walked. He was heavier than before. He walked on his hands when his feet grew tired. He was cold. He grabbed some cloth to cover himself. Where from? His house. Which house. A new house. He was hungry, and tired, and made a new one. Lots of wood in the woods, lots of decorations after eating.

He was home now. He saw the house, heard the voices, and smelt a fresh making of simple bread. He was hungry. He would eat.

He heard a voice. It called out. A name. His name. Who’s name. Not his name. His anime was- Her name was-.

He clutched his head. It hurt. It all hurts. The hunger hurt too much. A woman approached him.

“Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick, it don’t look well at all. And what are you carrying under all that?” The woman embarrassed him, the arms around his waist. She was smaller than before, she would normally manage to wrap around his chest.

“Are you taller than before, what are you wearing?” Some many questions. It did not help the hunger. She would feed him all the same. Her arms lifted up, touching his. Her eyes grew in confusion. His other arms awakened themselves. She looked in shock, while his hands twisted and formed their peculiar shapes.

She was frozen in a flash, the eyes fixed in place. His arms each grabbed a piece, breaking it off bit by bit. Loud crunches could be heard, as the frigid meat barely bleed. He shoved them one by one into his mouth. Cold, but crunchy. Delicious.

A loud sound could be heard. He looked up. A smaller female had witnessed his meal from the second story. Who? A sister. Whose? Didn’t matter. He was still hungry. His arms pushed him off the ground, and extended out to claim his next appetizer.

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Raphael struggled against his bindings. This had gotten far worse than he hoped. Still, escape was still possible. He saw the satchel on the bed. If he could break free, he would be home free. Without the home of course. He cursed at himself. Best to not lose focus now.

He could feel his knives were gone. Someone must have grabbed them. Not exactly great. They were useful, and trying to get another set would be unbearably expensive.

Looking the place over, the mob had not cleared the palace out, likely out of fear of the plague. Their anxieties were his benefit. If not for them tying him up in the first place.

Raphael crawled with his knees towards the cabinet. He went slowly, making sure not to make much noise. The mob was still there, he could hear some of them. What was their plan? If they wanted him dead, they could simply shove a pitchfork in him and call it a day. There’s definitely more to it. Anton believes he killed Emil. Raphael respected the care Anton had for his friend. But not his false assumptions and misconceptions. Killing an innocent man for someone else’s deeds was beyond stupid.

Still. There were pieces of cutlery and metal in the cabinet. If he could shove over, he could probably get something to deal with the ropes binding him. The mob definitely used all their chains on the vampire. They didn’t take chances on it, but for him, he was clearly not a threat.

But they would not survive what other creature is out in the woods right this instant. No one would.

The voices dulled somewhat. Raphael noted other sounds of some kind. He lay still, pretending to be asleep. Considering the blow to his throat and head, he pondered it. But time was of the essence.

Rhythmic thumps. Banging of metal against wood. He what little rays of light that peeked through were one by one disappearing. The mob was boarded up the house. Did they intend to leave him in here to starve, or merely to deal with later?

Neither option was good. But not impossible to escape from. He shuffled inch by inch, noting they could not see inside with the boards they were putting up.

The pounding of hammer against nail and wood continued. But Raphael had made it to the cabinet. He listened, and mimicked the pace. Thump, thump, thump, a pause, and a final thump. Someone had a habit when they worked. And he kicked against the cabinet. Extending his tied-up feet against the cabinet’s base in tune to the hammering, it shook bit by bit. Some of the broken metal from Teodosie’s last excursion here could be heard with each impact.

The hammering stopped. Did they catch on to him? Silence filled the air as Raphael’s breath escaped him.

“Oh, just hurry up and go already! We’ll be done with this hellhole.” A voice yelled form outside. Clearly no crowd was a monolith when it came to work ethic.

The hammering sped up. As did Raphael’s kicks. But the cabinet still would not fall.

Should he try and stand himself up, and free himself from there. Was this taking too long?

He waited. How many minutes had passed since this started? Too many, not enough? He couldn’t tell. Where to go after this. He did not answer himself.

Another voice broke the bitter silence. “Something fucking crazy is happening in town, just get your asses going already!”

“Alright, fine! Cheap ass piece of shit.” The second voice was much closer to Raphael. It must have belonged to the wielder of the hammer. Sounds of walking grew fainter and fainter.

Raphael breathed a sigh of relief. Granted, he had no idea what they all meant. But at least he could escape in peace. He got back to kicking the cabinet. He was certain he would get it soon. Looking up at it, a thought occurred. If and when it fell over, if it fell face first, he might not be able to grab the broken pieces of metal from under the cabinet. Worse off, what if it fell on him?

Raphael inhaled and steadied his breath. Haste would be his undoing. There was no reason to panic.

He looked back up, noting something above the cabinet. Along the ceiling was a brightness and discoloration. A crackling sound could be heard. It was faint, but it was there. The brightness grew, as did the temperature around him. He looked up to see a piece of the ceiling begin to fall towards him.

Raphael rolled out of the way, just avoiding having the roof land on him. His fears were realized upon seeing the charring wood. Those simple-minded bastards are trying to kill him.

“Burn in hell, heathen!”

“Just hurry the fuck up already!” The yelling voices ceased, as Raphael began to panic. He kicked the cabinet furiously, caution be damned. After a few kicks, it lingered, before tipping and then descending towards him. He lifted his legs up, catching the cabinet’s base with his feet, before extending his legs out while it fell. The cabinet tittered away from him and smashed to the floor on its side.

Broken pieces of metal scattered the floor, as Raphael crawled over to them. More of the roof was now glowing red. If there was fire outside the house itself, he did not know, thanks to the damn windows that were boarded up.

He cut, vigorously and recklessly. He did not burn in Zori; he would not burn here. More of the ceiling fell in. It looked like the center of the house was ignited first. Sure, he was in the corner, but that was no comfort. He spotted the satchel on the bed, on the other side of the room.

Raphael increased the cutting as fast as he could, dropping the metal shard a couple of times in the process. Thankfully the roof was slightly damp and thus he hadn’t perished just yet. Thankfully, the mob did not kill him themselves. Unhelpfully, he lacked better tools in this scenario.

The rope’s thread frayed with each scrape. But frayed nonetheless. The heat of the room kept rising, as Raphael managed to slip his hands free. He could raise them in excitement if not for the burning above him. The fire in the middle of the room was growing more and more. He pushed himself back towards the wall as the feverishly untied his legs.

More of the roof was caving in, as a hefty *thud* of burning wood landing inside the room. The other side of the room was blocked by the blazing orange glow, and the outside was blocked by the obtuse wood covering the windows.

Raphael got his legs free, but stayed low to the ground. The ceiling made it easy for the smoke to not linger in here, but that was no reason to risk inhaling it. He crawled towards the window. Using the metal shards he had, he pressed them underneath where the boards were nailed. But by bit he tried to pushed the boards out of their resting positions.

But it wasn’t enough as is. He would need a lot of force that pry them off. He noticed the chest behind him. Just barely within the range of the flames. He tugged on it over to him. His breath grew heavier, the demands of his lungs would not be met. Soon enough, there would not need any more.

He titled it up towards the window, the heat and smoke blurring his vision. He stumbled forward and tackled it with his shoulder, sending the edge of the chest into the wooden obtrusions. They cracked under the weight, but it wasn’t enough.

The blaze had reached near Raphael’s feet. His limbs were waning, his head weakening. Thoughts flared and faded all the same. Do or die. Not a suicide. A warriors mind.

He moved his body against the burning pain, and shoulder checked the chest. IT crashed into the planks, shattering them. Raphael grabbed the chest and tossed it back in the inferno, and flopped out of the window.

He crawled, the dirt beneath his chin preferable to the burning floor. Air restored his sight, and cleared his mind. The mob had left, they were going to kill the vampire. And something else was happening in town. Smoke could be seen from the town. The vampire had to be burning right now.

A scream could be heard, even from so far away. It was certainly not the vampire’s. Something was definitely happening, something beyond the expected. Something deadly.

But that was far away, something he alone could not handle. The conflagration behind him began to roar, consuming the condemned home of a forgotten damned family.

He could see the insides. The other window, still barred. But the inside was still visible. His satchel rest on the bed, the scorching sparks soon to claim it as well. His letter, his money, and his path.

The screams within town grew louder, more voices had joined in. Raphael looked, thought for but a moment and ran towards his future.

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