Summer was drawing to a close. The forest had grown colder, the green leaves now tinged with gold. The air carried that quiet stillness — the kind that made everything feel like it was about to die.
Elena stirred beneath the tree roots where she'd taken shelter. Her body was weak, her hunger like a parasite gnawing at her insides.
She opened her eyes slowly, blinking into the dim light of a setting sun.
But something was different.
The light… wasn't hurting her anymore. No dizziness. No burning skin. It was as if her body had adapted — just enough to tolerate the last golden rays of daylight.
Still weak, she stood up and stumbled forward through the thick underbrush. Her legs trembled, but she kept walking. Each step felt like dragging chains, but the hunger was gone… for now.
She reached a quiet stretch of forest path when a gentle voice called out behind her.
> "Hey, young girl? You shouldn't be here. It's already 5 p.m., and it's getting cold. You should head home."
An old man in a knitted cap stood by the path, carrying a basket of mushrooms. His eyes were kind, weathered. He smiled warmly.
She opened her mouth to speak — to say anything — but the moment she smelled his blood…
Her vision blurred. Her throat burned. And everything inside her snapped.
In one violent moment, she lunged at him.
She didn't remember how. She didn't remember deciding.
Just the sound of tearing skin, the warmth flooding her mouth, her fangs deep in his neck.
The man collapsed beneath her.
His body weak. Fading. Shaking hands trying to push her away.
Then… silence.
Her eyes widened in horror as the haze lifted.
> "What did I… what have I done?"
She dropped to her knees beside the man, trembling. Her lips were stained with blood. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
She tried to vomit. Tried to spit it out. But nothing came up.
> "I'm sorry," she whispered, again and again.
"I'm so sorry…"
But then — just as she feared the worst — the old man stirred.
He slowly got up without a word, wobbling on his feet, and turned to walk back down the trail toward the village, basket still in hand.
She was frozen. Confused. Relieved?
Maybe he'd be okay.
That night, Elena didn't sleep.
The next morning, a knock on a neighbor's door turned into sirens.
The old man had been found dead in his bed.
His body was strangely cold — and already beginning to rot.
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