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Story Notes:
I own no characters that you reconize(thogh i wish i owned Legolas)
Stupid human. Walking through a dangerous forest for a shortcut while he’s drunk. At least he won’t hurt himself from trying to fight. He stubs his toe on a root and swears in a slurred voice. Can you believe this guy? I can’t. I sigh as I realize that this means that his blood will taste like alcohol. Great. I can’t stand the stuff. I ditch my sneaks and jacket so I’m only in my tee-shirt and jeans. I start running at an inhuman speed.

So you probably guessed. I’m a vampire. Don’t start pulling out the garlic and crosses, though. It won’t work. The only things mythology got right is that wooden stakes and be-heading are the only things that kill us and that we’re immortal. Not that injuries don’t hurt us. We need to drink after an injury to stay healthy. Sunlight doesn’t bug us. We don’t sleep in coffins. We need to sleep, sure, but not as often as every night and a bed would do just fine.

Back to my chase. I purposely snap a couple twigs to get his adrenaline going. Adrenaline is the body’s natural anesthetic. I take another couple steps before pouncing. He lets out a yell as I yank his head back, exposing his neck. I clamp my free hand over his mouth. I lower my head to his neck, teeth bared.

My fangs feel a slight resistance from his skin before I burrow deeper to his artery. Warm red wetness pools in my mouth. It burns my throat as it goes down. It almost feels like fiery silk. It is good, aside from the beery aftertaste. He wiggles and I tighten my grip. I suck down a pint and remove my fangs.

“Who the fu-“his word are quickly cut off as I knock him unconscious.

He won’t remember anything because he’s too drunk. As for the mark, he’ll just think that he got one hell of a hickey from a barfly. I get up and grab my shoulder bag and jacket and start walking through the forest towards a tiny motel at the other side of it.

I start humming random tunes, mostly Celtic. It was a good era, the time of the Druids. I don’t notice how long it has been until my eyes start to itch. What is taking me so long? I quicken my pace but I seem to go slower. My feet hurt. The air is starting to smell different, as are the bird calls more frequent. How many hours has it been since I’ve slept? 50,60? To long, my body tells me. The trees seem to be talking to me, whispering in rustles of leaves. The world seems to be swaying in silent winds. And then the trees stop. Just like that. No thinning. They just stop in a perfectly straight line.

I am in the middle of a dirt plane with few shrubs. A few leagues away there is a rocky hill with travelers on it. Where the hell is the motel? I turn back towards the forest and freeze.

The trees are gone.
Chapter End Notes:
Hope you liked it! Expect chapt. 2 tomorow!
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