A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

I trudge through the Darkwoods hopelessly lost and growing weaker by the second. My foot catches on a root, causing me to stumble and crash to the forest floor. I cry out as pain explodes through me. Large blisters cover my body from where the sun had burned me the day before… Or was it a couple of days ago? I’ve lost track of time…

 I don’t know how long I had been passed out for. All I know is that it was the hunger that woke me and drove me out into the forest as soon as the sun had set.

I lick my parched lips. So thirsty. I had somehow managed to catch a rabbit, but its blood didn’t sate me for long. I need more, and lots of it. The silver that those Knights of Stronghelm had used on me has significantly inhibited my healing abilities, which in other words means—I’m fucked. Too weak to catch sufficient prey, but too weak not to.

I try to push myself up, but collapse again. Where do vampires go when they die? I wonder, my eyes half lidded from sheer exhaustion. And who will come to collect me when this vessel is no more? Will it be the one my heart longs for, my soulmate Azrael, kept away from me by the Demon Lord for far too long? Or will it be my old flame Thanatos, whom I never forgave but could also never forget?...

Stop that. If I die, then Scark died for nothing. I grit my teeth as I grapple for whatever handhold I can find, dragging myself across the forest floor. My hand hits something hard and sturdy. Head bobbing up, I spot the fallen tree before me. Perfect.

I reach up to grab it, fingertips digging so hard into the wood that it causes them to bleed. With all my might, I pull myself up, as I try to get my feet under me. Get. Up. My legs are shaky as I stand, leaning heavily against the log for support. I let out a yelp as a snake suddenly slithers out from the dead tree’s hollow core. I eye it for a moment, before letting out a sigh. Screw it.  

I snatch it up and sink my fangs into it. I’ll take whatever I can get. I drain it no time and throw its carcass behind me. Better. I carefully push off of the log, my balance sketchy at best until I at least get a good momentum going.

I trek onward through the forest, the moonlight spilling through the canopy above my only guide. It takes all my strength just to keep myself upright and one foot in front of the other. My progress is slow. Then again, is it really progress if you still don’t know where the hell you’re going? As far as I know, I could be going in the completely opposite direction of Bludhaven.

My eyes are bleary, and I blink back tears I hadn’t even realized had fallen. I flick away a hot tear rolling down my cheek, as I keep soldiering on.

The trees begin to thin, and nestled in a small clearing is a—cottage? I rub my eyes. Surely, I’m just imagining things? Wishful thinking and all. I’m so in my head that I don’t notice the errant pail, and with the grace of a true queen, I faceplant. In a swirl of flapping wings and annoyed crows, chickens scatter every which way.

Groaning in pain and metaphorically licking my wounds, I almost miss the sound of a door creaking open and the flicker of a lantern lighting up the darkness. “Hello? Who’s out there?” My head snaps up at the sound of a man’s voice.

“H-help, p-please.” My voice comes out as a mere croak from lack of use, and I reach out a feeble hand.

“Oh my god, Darla get out here!!”

. . .

An older woman, dark hair peppered with gray and wrinkles suggesting she’s seen many winters, swims into view. I can feel the warmth of the hearth through the wool blanket covering me, soothing all my aches and pains.

“Oh good, you’re up,” she remarks. The smell of a steaming broth wafts in the air. Had I been a mere mortal, it would’ve made my mouth water. I watch as she ladles a heaping portion of it up, pouring it into a wooden bowl and carrying it over to me. “Here honey, you need to eat something. You’re so pale.”

“Careful, it’s hot,” she adds as she holds the bowl up to my lips. I take a sip, the warm liquid gliding down my throat. Oh, how I wished with every fiber of my being that it would satiate my hunger, but it wouldn’t. I needed blood, and I needed it now.

She pulls back a bit, squinting as she looks at me. “What’s wrong with your eyes?” Shit. I pull an arm out from under the blanket, rubbing my eyes in a feeble attempt to hide their changing color.

“I’m just tired,” I mumble. I let out a small breath when she doesn’t press the matter. She sets the bowl on a side table, before rummaging through a trunk.

“I need to redo your bandages, trade them out with fresh ones,” she explains. I hadn’t noticed until then the bandages wrapped around my major wounds. I feel a pang in my heart from the kindness shown by these strangers—Wait, there were two of them.

“W-where’s the man—I mean, your husband?”

“Oh, he went into town to get some more supplies. He’ll be back later tonight or tomorrow,” she says with a smile. I nod my head as she carries over a wad of bandages over to me. She sets her supplies on the edge of the bed, and she’s leaning over me to remove the bandage on my shoulder when it blindsides me. The hunger.

The sheer intensity of it scares me, and I shake as I desperately try to stuff it back down. But it’s like grasping at threads. I’m hyper-aware of her pulse beating steadily under the thin skin of her neck. Her blood, it calls out to me. No no no. I’ve felt this raw hunger before, this lack of control… Suddenly, the woman before me changes shape in my mind’s eye. She’s no longer a stranger but instead is my mother, begging for her life—from me.

“Anneliese! Anneliese, please!” my mother screams, those words forever etched into my skull. “Anneliese! Anneliese—WHAT are you?!” The woman’s voice cuts through the illusion.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can manage to say before the Beast takes over. In a blink I strike out, grappling and pinning her to the bed as my fangs tear into her throat like a savage animal. And perhaps that’s what I am. An animal. A monster. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.