Page 2 of The Vampire Debt

In a painfully slow movement, to avoid creating even the slightest creak from my bow, I pull my arrow back, ready to let it fly, and stop when the distant sound of someone humming a lullaby reaches me. Easing the pull I have on the arrow, I glance around, doing my best to avoid moving too much.

My eyelids grow heavy and I find myself wanting to drift off. I jolt, sucking in a breath, and hold it.

Damn it. That was too close. My heart pounds and it’s all I can do to remain calm.

I look back to where I saw the rabbit to find a young woman sitting there. She’s humming. Her shoulders move with ever so slight movements, as if she’s weaving a crown of flowers or some other harmless thing.

But she is no innocent.

She is a nightmare come to life. She is everything that is wrong with this world.

I watch her for a long moment, unsure what my next move will be. If I jump down and run, she will spot me. But my leg is beginning to cramp and if I don’t leave soon, I’m sure my stomach will start to growl.

There’s only one thing I can do. A cold sweat breaks out across my forehead at the thought of following through.

Slowly, I lift my bow. The fletching of my arrow grazes my cheek as I pull it back. The bowstring groans, halting my movements and my breath. I wait several heartbeats making sure the monster in my sights doesn’t notice my presence before it’s too late.

My original purpose for coming into the woods today has already been forgotten.

Long, wavy, golden hair flows down her back in waves, almost as pale as her skin. A stark contrast to her dark red dress-- so dark it's almost black, like a thick pool of fresh blood.

How fitting.

To most eyes she would appear to be nothing more than a young woman.

But I know better. Her impossibly graceful movements and at times her perfect stillness give her away.

She is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, only something far more dangerous and deadly—beautiful on the outside, but grotesque and twisted inside. From where I sit perched in my tree, she could be making a crown of flowers as she sits in the grass. Though I know better. She is sucking the life out of some poor, defenseless animal, watching the life leave its eyes as it can do nothing but gaze back at her in terror.

She hums as she feeds, a tune so familiar and haunting, it makes my head ache. It steals whatever hesitation I might still possess.

I pull my arrow back a fraction more, my muscles straining. Then I let go.

The second I do, she stills and starts to turn her head toward me. If she moves… demons of the Otherworld help me if she moves before it reaches her—I am dead.

The arrow sails through the air and I hold my breath. It hits the mark, just to the left of her spine, piercing her heart. She hovers for a moment before falling face first into the ground with a soft thud. Her hair fans out around her in a gold nimbus.

I brush the back of my hand across my forehead, wiping away the sweat that beaded.

I’ve got to go before others come for her. Before anyone finds out what I’ve done and finds me here.

I leap down from the tree and sling my bow around my shoulders. I turn to run but some morbid curiosity holds me back. I need to make sure she’s truly dead and not faking it. Years of waiting to seek revenge on my mother’s killer, and it’s over with the flick of my wrist. It’s almost too easy to believe.

Of course, there’s no way to know for sure that she is the vampire responsible… but aren’t they all? They are all equally as terrible… all guilty of the same crimes.

I make my way toward it, as slow as I can manage, trying not to make any noise. I reach her and look down. She’s dressed in a black gown, her flaxen hair splayed all around her. Red slowly leeches its way in and through the strands, darkening them as it spreads.

With the toe of my boot, I tap her in the side, ready to bolt. For a moment I eye the arrow sticking out from her back. If I leave it here then it can be traced back to me. I have to take it even though I can’t use it again—the blood from this abomination would taint any game I used it on.

I toe her, rolling her to her side. Her face, partially obscured by golden hair, is serene. She looks like she’s sleeping, but her lips are stained red with blood. In her hands, the now dead rabbit stares at her, unseeing. Her fingers are all but crushing it. The sight makes me want to retch.

I reach for the arrow, grabbing it low on the shaft and wrench it from the monstrosity. It makes a sickening slurping sound as it comes free. I shove it into my quiver.

Some of the beast’s blood is on my hands. I crouch and wipe it off the best I can on the frozen blades of grass.

Then I turn and run. I run and I don’t stop until I’m at the edge of town.

My breath comes heavy and I earn a few strange looks from the townsfolk, but I keep moving, wending my way through them, determined to lose myself in the crowd.