Spellcaster series #1: The Neophyte

Vampirism

HEIDI

I counted the footsteps every time I heard them: One, two...three, four...five, six...

Grandma said counting would help me sleep. The scent of lavender wafted through the bedroom. It was particularly windy outside too. The branches of the tree tapped onto the window several times like it wanted to come in.

Or maybe it was a knock and something indeed wanted to come in.

Maybe it was a djinn, like from the stories of the neighbourhood kids. Grandma always scolded me for believing them. She said that djinns could not kill us so we must not be afraid of them. But what if I saw its hideous face at the window? I froze at the thought of it.

The shuffling of footsteps got louder, closer, like they were right above me. "Grandma!"

My grandmother was seventy-two with a bad knee after her last operation. The footsteps moved about, heavily, convincing my nine-year-old imaginative mind that there was actually someone in the attic above me.

One, two...three, four—a pause. The room had turned cold all of a sudden. I checked to see if the window was open and the wind had made its way into my bedroom.

"Grandma!" I cried again. I pulled the covers up over my head.

Quick footsteps came from her bedroom. She opened the door, "Heidi, what did I tell you—"

She stopped midway. I lowered the covers to peek. Her face paled and hazel eyes widened. Without tearing her eyes from the window on my left, she beckoned me. I was about to ask when a loud knock banged onto the window. I jumped from the bed and ran towards her.

My grandmother picked me up so swiftly like her body had forgotten that she was past seventy with a weak knee. She held the back of my head down and I buried my face into her shoulder as we headed for the main door. I could hear her staggered breaths as she raced through the hallway to head to the main door. I could hear her mutter something under her breath—a prayer?

We lived in a single-storey house in the outskirts of Orchidville. Who could hear us?

She unlocked the door to escape. We could have been free. We could have asked for help from the orphanage nearby and things might have been different.

An unseen force yanked us both and we flung backwards. I flew out of my grandmother's arms and crashed onto a wall, my right shoulder first. I cried out for her when I saw something large and black drag her into the dark kitchen.

"Grandma!"

I pushed myself off the floor. A sharp ache jolted from my shoulder. Tears streamed down my face. It was pitch dark, I was nine and beyond terrified.

But I ran after her anyway. Portraits of my late parents that hung on the wall were cracked and loose in their frames as I entered the dining area. My bare feet stepped on a glass fragment and I yelped. I shook it off and did not stop chasing after my grandmother.

Her screams echoed in the distance. The house was not large but she was completely out of sight. I turned on my heels and made my way for the door. I felt helpless. I had my hand on the doorknob when I saw it in the corridor outside the bedrooms. It blended in with the shadows, its white eyes like two floating glowing dots. It was a sight I had always seen in my nightmares and in a blink of an eye, it caught me too.

A crash in the kitchen—someone had broken in. That was the first moment I saw her. She flew in from the window, swift and nimble. The djinn saw her and dropped me immediately.