The soldier levelled his spear at Zuheil and charged at her. Zuheil saw the spear, but it was like it was moving in slow motion. She casually caught the shaft in one hand and used the other to fully lift herself from the soil. The man was screaming incoherently as he tried to pull the spear from her grasp. Zuheil was shocked as she wasn’t putting any strength in her grip. “Wait! I mean you no harm.” The soldier didn’t heed her words though, as he dropped his spear and drew a shortsword.

He raised the blade above his head and put all his energy in one strong arc. Unsure how to counter Zuheil just raised her arms and caught the blade. It didn’t even pierce her skin. She yanked it away from him and threw it aside. She tried pleading with him again, “Please stop, calm down.” The man continued screaming regardless. He bent over and took a knife from his boot. Before he could attack her again Zuheil took the initiative. She swiped her right hand, going for a slap. The soldier was already straightening himself up for a lunge, so Zuheil’s swipe missed his cheek and caught him in the throat.

She had not put much force into the motion, but her hand came away with blood. The soldier fell over backwards, trying to stop the blood gushing from his neck with little success. “Oh God oh god oh god – what have I done…” Zuheil was panicking.

The smell of the blood wafted to her nostrils. Its sweetness clouded her mind and the panic vanished. She tentatively licked her bloody hand. The man’s blood was the sweetest thing she had ever tasted. Soon she was sucking her fingers like a child. The hunger within her felt like a gaping hole in her abdomen, and only the metallic sweetness of blood could fill it. Suddenly she was on all fours at the man’s ruined neck. She had found an artery and was sucking at it like a straw. The hot liquid tingled in her throat and filled her mouth with the tang of iron. The hole in her stomach was filled, for the time being. Her wits returned about her and she realized the man had stopped twitching, and his skin was a deathly blue.

“Jared! Jared! We heard screaming. Where are you?” Zuheil almost jumped when she heard them. They were a group of about five men, dressed like Jared but with torches in hand. They could not see Zuheil but she could see them just fine. It was then that Zuheil noticed the lines of tombstones all about them.

What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? She scratched at her scalp furiously. There was a dead body at her feet. And his friends were looking for him. Do I hide the body? But where?

One of the men ended her indecision. “I think I see something. Hey! Is someone there?” Zuheil turned on her heels and ran. She came upon a wrought iron fence and easily vaulted over it. She was running on all fours now at inhuman speed. She did not stop running until she came to a small stream. A grove of trees grew along the riverbank, perfect for concealing herself. She looked back over the grassy plains and rolling hills behind her, but she could not see any pursuers.

Zuheil took several deep breaths to calm herself. She slid down the river banks and drank the water. The stream cleansed her hands which were caked in blood, soil, and grass. When she was done Zuheil examined her body. She was barefoot, clad in only a flimsy nightdress with some specks of blood and dirt on it. Her skin was the colour of alabaster – smooth and supple to the touch. In her precious life, Zuheil had been of mixed race, her diverse ancestry gave her milky brown skin and puffy hair.

In this body, however, her hair was a mass of curly crimson. She leaned over the water to look at her face. A beautiful stranger stared back at her. This can’t be real. She bared her teeth at the water. Her canines were longer and more pronounced. She extended them until they were roughly the length of her little finger. The action came to her as naturally as breathing.

Drinking blood, fangs and no heartbeat… I must be some sort of Vampire. Gaaaah…what do I do? That thing did this. He made me into a Vampire. The creature that had afflicted this condition upon her had said something about a cosmic war. Unfortunately, she had been too busy being terrified to listen much. One thing was for certain though; she did not want to meet it again. Guess I should gather information about this place. I should find someplace to stay, for the time being.

Zuheil rolled around in the mud, hoping that it would hide the bloodstains. She followed the water downstream until she came upon a quaint little cottage. The sounds of life spilt forth from the lit windows. Zuheil ruffled her hair and strode toward the door. It sounded like the people inside were talking over dinner. Her sharp hearing could detect five voices; a man, two women, and two children. To her horror, Zuheil started salivating at the thought of soft fleshy children.

She shook her head vigorously to banish the thought. She went down on her knees and pounded on the door. The voices stopped abruptly. Footsteps approached. The door opened a crack, just enough for the person to peek out.

“Huh?” The man asked when he saw the dirty girl at his doorstep.

Zuheil cooed, “Uwah?” She had planned to act insane so that she would not be turned away by anyone who had empathy. It pained her to do so, but it was the best way she could think of to blend in. Not to mention her ignorance of her surroundings would not attract attention.

“Patrick, who’s there?” A woman’s voice called from within. ‘Patrick’ opened the door fully. Zuheil gulped as she saw he had an axe in hand.

“Nobody, just some lost girl.” He squatted to address Zuheil. “Are you okay? What’s your name?”

What was her name? She felt it inappropriate to go by Zuheil anymore. She was a Vampire now and would need a Vampire’s name. Something cool, like Sybil or Carmilla.

“Aw, you poor thing!” A middle-aged woman appeared behind Patrick. She looked soft and plump where Patrick looked rough and burly. “Let her in Patrick. Penelope! Draw a bath and prepare some clothes. You girl, come in.” She took her hand and led Zuheil inside. Zuheil felt vaguely uncomfortable muddying the place up. The lady didn’t seem to mind though. “I’m Priscilla.” She poked a thumb at her bosom. “What’s your name?”

“D-D-Dru-ssc-illa.” I’m no good at names – they’ll definitely see through that

“Druscilla… what a wonderful name.” She grinned at her. “My eldest is preparing a bath for you. Come with me upstairs.” Priscilla led her to a room and peeled off her clothes. A blond girl in her late teens led Druscilla to the bathroom where a steaming bath was waiting for her. The tub itself was just big enough for Druscilla to fit in if she brought her knees to her chest.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” the girl said as she scrubbed Druscilla’s back. “I’m Penelope, by the way.”

Do all their names start with ‘P’? “Uwaah…” Druscilla cooed in response. She didn’t want them to detect her accent if she had any.

“Mother said your name was Druscilla, but that’s too long. I’ll call you Dru instead.” Penelope’s fingers massaged her scalp. “This isn’t dye, is it? Where exactly are you from? I’ve never seen red hair before…”

“Uwaaah,” Druscilla tried to stop this line of questioning; partly because she didn’t fully know the answers.

“And your skin… wooow – so soft. Are you some sort of princess, like in the stories? I’m so jealous of you. Haaaaah – I wish I had nails like yours. But aren’t they too long? How do you keep them this long without breaking? My nails break all the time. It’s really annoying – but not for you it seems. And your legs…” Penelope went on gushing about every feature of Druscilla’s body as she washed it. She talks too much. It’s not like Penelope was ugly, in fact, she was pretty in a rugged, rural sense. Her hands were calloused and her skin tanned by the sun. Her arms were covered in sinewy muscles that Zuheil would have coveted.

“Oookay, you’re all done now!” Penelope announced. “I’ll give you some of my clothes – come on, let’s get you dressed.”

Moments later Druscilla was in a rough cotton dress enjoying some surprisingly thick soup. During dinner, she was introduced to the Poulsens. Patrick, the father, was a ranger who traded skins and meat in the nearby town. His wife, Priscilla, was a seamstress who was unsuccessfully trying to make Penelope take up her craft. The eldest of three children, Penelope – or Pen for short – was more interested in ranging with her father, much to Priscilla’s chagrin. The youngest two, Patricia and Patrice, were identical twins who stared at Druscilla with beady eyes as their mother prattled on. Druscilla idly wondered how she would remember all their names. She was also curious as to why all their names started with ‘P’. Is it some sort of custom? Is this type of thing normal here?

“You must be tired,” Priscilla said, noticing Druscilla’s bowl was empty. “Unfortunately we don’t have any spare beds; we don’t get many visitors you see, so you’ll be sharing one with Pen.”

Pen’s room was the attic. It was a large, space save for a mattress on the floor. The straw mattress was surprisingly comfortable, even with two people on it. Pen had slid into the sheets and had her arms wrapped around Druscilla. In a previous life, the touchiness would have made her queasy, but Druscilla was smothered by Pen’s scents, and they were driving her senses mad. She had to actively restrain herself from biting Pen. It would not do for her to drain her hosts when she was trying to lie low.

Druscilla screwed her eyes shut and tried to breathe as little as possible. In the process, she discovered that she did not need to respire. And Pen’s body was unbearably hot against her own – But Druscilla persevered.

Druscilla did not sleep a wink. Soon she felt the impending sunrise in her blood. Through the window of the attic, she could see the horizon had changed colour. Will I burst into flame when exposed to the sun? Thankfully, Pen and her parents were early risers. The youth slid out and headed outside. She was trying to be silent, but Druscilla could hear her very clearly. She could also hear Priscilla readying breakfast down below as her husband left through the front door. Pen eventually followed him outside. The only sounds left were the twins’ soft snoring and clattering utensils.

Druscilla was left to face the impending sunrise alone. She curled up in a far corner of the room in a ball far away from the sole window. The sun eventually peeked out from under the horizon. Too soon. Way too soon. Druscilla fearfully stretched out a finger into a beam of sunlight, fully expecting horrible burns. Moment of truth. If the sun could kill her, then the jig was up.

Here goes… Nothing. Her index finger was fully illuminated by the sunlight, but it hadn’t erupted into flame. Druscilla sighed loudly and stepped into the sun. Rather than pleasant morning sunshine, it felt more akin to the sunlight in a desert – unbearably hot. Still, it did not kill her outright, contrary to what all the vampire novels said. Squinting, she realized that there were two suns; a bright yellow orb and its smaller and dimmer red companion.

Interesting. Druscilla calmly concluded that she really was in another world. Reincarnation; how scary – I should be hyperventilating now… She placed her palm on her chest but her heart was still… too still – there was a complete absence of a heartbeat. She remembered the man she had seen, he had called her an undead. Moreover, come to think of it, she woke up in a box underground. Does this mean this is someone else’s body? Do they have living relatives? Crap! What if I get recognized? Yet another reason to lay low.

Druscilla curled up once more in the cool shadows at the corner of the attic. She heard Priscilla’s ponderous footsteps come up the stairs. The lady of the house softly knocked on the and came in. “Good morning my dear.” She noticed Druscilla in the far corner. “You’re safe now, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” She crossed the room and started stroking Druscilla’s hair. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but nothing’s going to happen while you’re with us, you hear?” Priscilla gently dragged her guest out of the attic. “Let’s go have some breakfast.”

Breakfast was a loaf of bread, bacon, boiled eggs, and juice from a fruit that resembled a mango but without the stone in the middle. It was surprisingly tasty; Zuheil had mostly eaten packaged and processed food in her day. Despite the volume she had eaten, Druscilla was not full. Now and then she would get a whiff of Priscilla’s scent from across the table and her senses would flair, urging her to sink her fangs into the lady and drain her. The lady in question was oblivious of course. She prattled on to Druscilla about the weather, the garden, the fish, and a dozen other small things that meant nothing to Druscilla.

“…and speaking of which, Pat and Pen ought to be back by now. They must’ve been held up in town.” Druscilla pricked up at this new information.

I should learn as much as possible about the people of the land.

Priscilla must have noticed this. “Oh ho, I see you’ve already imprinted on Penelope. Well don’t you worry, she won’t be long.” She made a move to leave but thought better of it. “I probably shouldn’t leave you alone, but I have to wake those lazy brats up.” She cupped her hands and shouted, “Patricia and your sister! Wake Up!” Druscilla felt Priscilla’s voice rattle the small house. She heard groans as the twins grudgingly woke up.

They came to the table moments later, still in their nightclothes. Druscilla caught herself eyeing their chubby cheeks. I really am a monster. Druscilla thought back to the man she had killed. It had only happened the day before, but it felt like some sort of dream. I feel remarkably calm, given the circumstances. She had read in books that the first person you kill stays with you, but Druscilla could hardly remember the man’s face. Maybe I’ve lost my ability to feel? No, that’s not right. When those men came, that fear, that panic was real. The prospect of losing her emotions was not appealing. Druscilla shook her head to get rid of those ominous thoughts.

“Are you okay?” There was genuine concern in Priscilla’s eyes as she asked. The twins fixed their beady eyes on her while their faces were screwed up in confusion. Druscilla put on her best puppy eyes expression to capitalize on the moment. “Don’t worry,” Priscilla whispered. “You’re safe now. Safe. With us.”

“Yeah, our daddy will swing his big axe at the monsters,” one of the twins piped up. Was it Patrice, or Patricia? Druscilla really couldn’t tell. They looked so alike – they even smelled the same.

“Don’t say things like that, Patrice,” Pricilla chided. “She’s pretty jumpy, don’t scare her.”

Patrice and her sister kept mum and continued eating. Even Priscilla had stopped talking, instead throwing concerned glances Druscilla’s way. It felt odd. Priscilla and Druscilla were not eating, yet they remained at the table. Surely Priscilla has something to do – rural residences have an abundance of chores after all.

Druscilla heard Pen and her father long before they reached the front door. Priscilla turned in her seat to greet them. “How was town? And what took you so long?”

They removed their shoes at the door as Patrick answered, “It was fine, we got three silvers for the wolf caught in one of our traps.” He looked at the twins. “Have you two made your bed? No? then go make it then.” Once they had left, he took a seat next to his wife. Pen hovered behind them, looking worried. “Disturbing news, Priscilla. An undead rose yesternight. It killed Jared – you know, the baker’s boy – and drained all his blood.”

Priscilla covered her mouth with a fleshy palm. “That’s horrible. That poor boy…”

“I know, I know. But that’s not all; the grave this creature rose from, none other than Lady Ruringer Clearwater.”