Heavy footsteps reverberate as the figures dismount from their horses, each step resonating with a subtle authority.
I hold my breath, hoping and praying that whoever is there can't hear me.
"I smell blood," a deep and dark voice says, sending chills down my spine.
I swiftly glance at my trembling hands, a chill coursing like ice. There, etched in stark horror across the center of my palm, lies a deep gash, raw and jagged. Crimson blood oozes from the wound, pooling and trickling onto the parched earth beneath me, staining the dirt a vivid scarlet as if nature itself mourns my pain.
As the tension in the air thickens, Zeke erupts from his hiding spot, his fur bristling and teeth bared in a ferocious snarl aimed at the men lingering behind the crate. His growls echo like thunder, a primal warning that sends a ripple of shock through the group outside. I scramble, adrenaline coursing through my veins, but I'm too slow to catch him. The startled gasps of the men pierce the silence, a mix of fear and surprise flooding their faces as they take a cautious step back.
My breath hitches in my throat when I suddenly hear the men start to laugh.
"Look at this. A lost little puppy." One of the men comments.
"Where's your owner? Are they around here somewhere?" Another man asks.
Run Zeke!
But he doesn't. Instead, a low, guttural growl reverberates through the air, sending a shiver down my spine. The sound is followed by sharp snarls that slice through the silence, each brimming with primal intensity. I can hear his labored panting, heavy breaths that mix with the rustling of claws against the ground, scratching and scraping with a desperate urgency. The atmosphere thickens with tension as I can almost feel the heat radiating off him, a wild energy crackling in the air around us.
"Such a bore," the first man comments.
In one heartbeat, I hear Zeke's low, menacing growl echoing through the air, a warning of the tension hanging around us. But a sharp bang shatters the stillness the very next instant, reverberating through my bones. My heart races as I hear Zeke whimper in response, a sound laced with fear and confusion.
My hand shoots up to cover my mouth, silencing the startled gasp that threatens to burst forth. A surge of emotion wells up inside me, and tears spring to my eyes, blurring my vision. My heart races, pounding against my ribcage as my mind whirls in a chaotic spiral. The moment's weight hangs heavy in the air, pressing down on me, as I struggle to process the overwhelming flood of feelings that threaten to consume me.
"What a waste," the man sighs before a big thud hits the ground behind the crates. "Find the owner. They couldn't have gone far," the man orders.
I know I need to run, to get far away from these men, but my mind is a whirlwind of emotions. My body refuses to move from behind the weathered crates, my muscles freezing me in place.
Zeke is dead. They shot him.
The sharp sound of heavy boots crunching against the asphalt yanks me from my reverie. I glance around, my heart racing, and te the men still looming on the far side of the crate that conceals me from view. But with each footfall growing closer, I kmow my time of concealment was quickly running out.
Silently and cautiously, I weave my way back into the sprawling embrace of the forest that fringes the edge of town. As these men's raucous shouts and boisterous laughter cut through the twilight air, a wave of emotion crashes over me. Tears pour down my cheeks in a torrent, and my breath comes in ragged gasps as an iron grip tightens around my heart.
By the time I make it home, it is well into the evening, the sun having set multiple hours ago. The full moon looms ominously overhead, its soft silver glow a stark contrast to the loneliness I feel inside.
As I step through the front door of my home, I'm instantly enveloped in warmth, my mother's arms wrapping around me in a tight, protective hug. Her whispered reassurances blend into the background, muffled and distant, as a rush of blood surges in my ears, drowning out everything else.
I can sense my father standing protectively behind my mother, his sky-blue eyes glistening with unshed tears that catch the dim light. As he steals glances out of the open door, the shadows of the dense, dark forest loom just beyond. The air is thick with unspoken fears, and I can feel the weight of the night pressing in around us.
"We need to leave," he says, gently pulling my mother away from me. All I can do is nod, still too caught up in my emotions to respond verbally.
The next few minutes blur into a chaotic flurry of activity. My mother and father hurriedly pack our collection of little trinkets—a motley assortment of memories gathered during our three years in this tiny, cozy abode. These little treasures are enough to remember this home by, even as it slips away.
Once our personal belongings are safely tucked away in our bags, we heave them over our shoulders and take a deep breath before making our way to the door. As I pull it open, we're met by the unsettling sight of the men from town gathered outside, their faces illuminated by the faint glow of the moonlight. The deep crimson of their eyes glimmers like ominous stars against the inky blackness of the night, and a shiver runs down my spine. Their sharper-than-average canines protrude menacingly from their lips, glistening with what seems to be blood, and a wave of bile rises in my throat as an uneasy churn stirs in my stomach.
"Well, well, well, what a pleasant surprise," the man in front of us says. An arm thrusts out in front of me, firmly yet gently guiding me back into the dimly lit confines of the house, away from the advancing intruders. But it's too late. With a fluidity that defies belief, the vampires slip through the threshold, their movements a blur of shadow and menace. In an instant, they seize my mother, their cold hands wrapping around her throat in a ruthless choke hold, while they toss my father aside like a rag doll. He crashes against the wall with a sickening thud, the impact rendering him unconscious.
A blood-curdling scream erupts from my throat, raw and desperate, as I witness the grotesque brutality of the monsters surrounding me. Panic surges through my veins as I attempt to retreat, but before I can escape, one of the vampires ensnares me in his iron grip, crushing my ribs against his cold, unyielding body. My heart races as I helplessly watch the creature looming over my mother, its grotesque features illuminated by the moonlight. With elongated fangs glistening like sharp daggers and blood-red eyes burning with a predatory hunger, he savored the moment. My breath catches in my throat as he lowers her shirt, revealing the vulnerable skin beneath. In an instant, he pierces my mother's flesh, the sickening sound of tearing flesh echoing in the night as he drains her life force, leaving behind nothing but a haunting silence that envelops us both.
Screams reverberate through our cramped, tiny home, filling the air with an eerie cacophony of terror and despair. I struggle fiercely, twisting and turning in a desperate attempt to escape my captor's iron grip, but it's a hopeless endeavor. His strong arms encircle me like a vice, immobilizing my petite frame as I helplessly witness the horrific scene unfolding before me. The vampire looms over my mother, his fangs sunk deep into her neck, drawing forth the very essence of life. Her once-vibrant eyes are now clouded with fear and pain, mirroring my horror as the shadows dance around us, amplifying the nightmare that has invaded our sanctuary. Each gulp he takes drains her strength, and I feel a chilling sense of helplessness wash over me, the warmth of hope fading like the last light of day.
Moments later, my father's body emerges into my line of sight, and a cold wave of horror crashes over me, making my heart plummet to my stomach. Another vampire looms over him, its skeletal fingers wrapped cruelly around his neck, squeezing with a predatory precision. I see my father's face contorting, the skin turning a ghastly shade of purple, as desperation and panic flicker in his eyes. The monster's grip tightens, its breath a rancid whisper against my father's skin. Then, it unleashes a sharp, maniacal laugh, echoing through the dimly lit room. Each cruel laugh sends a shiver down my spine.
A heavy silence envelops the area, thick and suffocating, just moments before a deafening crack pierces the stillness. In an instant, my father's lifeless body is hurled to the ground, his head severed cleanly from his shoulders, rolling slightly on the hardwood floor, eyes wide and unseeing. The vibrant colors of my world bleed into an oppressive darkness, a swirling void that dizzies me. I gaze into my father's glossy, unblinking eyes, and time freezes, each heartbeat echoing like a distant drum. I can feel the monstrous grip tightening around me, icy fingers tugging insistently at the collar of my shirt—terror courses through my veins, mingling with disbelief, threatening to consume me whole.
"Boss, what do we do with this one? She bares his mark?"
I watch with blurred vision as the towering figure looms closer, the biggest of the monsters, perhaps their leader. His blood-red eyes narrow in disbelief, glinting like rubies in the dim light as he examines me. With a deliberate motion, he lowers my shirt further, revealing my skin. A grimace twists his grotesque face as he spots my birthmark, the shape stark against my pale skin, drawing an unanticipated expression of curiosity mixed with confusion.
"We will let our Queen decide what to do with her."