When Night Comes

3. 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓯 𝓡𝓾𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

(Y/n) rubbed her gloved hands together, a visible shiver running through her frame as the early signs of winter crept in. The tapestry of warm hues, created by the fallen leaves, hinted at the impending arrival of the cold season. Clutching her basket tightly, she navigated the forest floor, where the leaves crunched beneath her every step. Although she wore mittens that her mother had lovingly knitted, the biting wind still managed to sneak its way through, causing her to quicken her pace. She was used to walking down this path. The girl had passed through these trees more times than she could count. In fact, (Y/n) could confidently assert that she knew these woods as well as she knew the back of her hand, familiar with the choicest spots for fruits and the tastiest areas for legumes.

Her gaze dipped down to her basket, brimming with an abundant harvest of wild mushrooms. She liked picking mushrooms. While she held the expertise to distinguish between edible and toxic mushrooms, her mother had a habit of double-checking her finds before consumption. (Y/n) took pride in her knowledge, and it was something she didn't hesitate to boast about.

As she walked, her thoughts circled back to the clearing she had recently departed. She realized the mysterious nobleman hadn't stopped by today. She wondered why a person from such a high profile entertained himself with her. Despite the mystery surrounding his intentions, (Y/n) appreciated his presence. He seemed to genuinely enjoy her random rants and conversation. The only thing that she didn't quite appreciate about him was his insistence on the fact she shouldn't do these little tasks she considered trivial. In his eyes, she was "too young" to be working "so much," a notion she found utterly ridiculous. The invitation to live in his mansion had been extended a week ago, and his repeated offers, met with her continued refusal, had become somewhat tiresome.

The path neared its conclusion, and (Y/n) failed to hear the familiar sound of her father's ax slicing through wood, a task he undertook to prepare for the impending frigid months. As (Y/n) tilted her head to the side, she wondered if he had hurt his back again. He wasn't as young as he once was. This task was becoming too strenuous for her father.

She knocked at the door. Approaching home, she anticipated her mother's customary welcome, complete with a steaming bowl of stew. However, as she waited outside, there was no such greeting. Unsettled, (Y/n) tried the door, only to find it unlocked.

"Mom never leaves the door open," (Y/n) whispered out with a pit forming in her stomach. She didn't know why it made her feel so weird. Maybe her mother had simply forgotten to lock it. There was a first time for everything, right ?

"Mom? Dad?" she called out with uncertainty, stepping into the silence of the house.

The once-cozy family home lay in ruins, a chaotic scene of overturned chairs, shattered tables, and broken plates that appeared as if a merciless tornado had swept through their lives. Blood stained the floor in grotesque patterns, a sign to the carnage that had unfolded within. There was too much blood. Dad was laying there, unconscious— dead on the floor. His eyes were wide open, staring at her with horror etched in his features. His neck had been bent in an odd shape, blood pooling out of it at a rapid pace.

A few feet away, (Y/n)'s mother was held captive in the clutches of a man—a man she recognized as the Duke de Beauvoir. Her mother's eyes were vacant, her complexion deathly pale, and sharp, white fangs had punctured her neck, the source of her life's essence drained by this monster in human guise.

'Vampire,' her mind supplied the dreadful truth.

A creature taking the form of a man, feeding upon the lifeblood of mortals.

The beastly Duke turned his gaze toward her, his once-blue eyes transformed into a deep, almost crimson violet. Blood, her mother's blood, trickled down his lips.

Every instinct within her screamed the same command: Run. And she obeyed, abandoning her basket and sprinting into the forest, a place she knew well. She darted among the trees, her footfalls almost stumbling over exposed roots and colliding with low-hanging branches. Her mind was on high alert, and her heart pounded fiercely. Eventually, she found refuge inside a massive oak tree, one with a sizable hollow in its trunk where she had often hidden as a child.

Footsteps drew closer, their ominous presence tormenting her. "Are we playing a game, child?" the voice of her parents' murderer called out in a singsong tone. "I will find you~."

(Y/n) bit down on her trembling lip, her hands muffling her sobs. It was a macabre irony that she was once again using this tree for hiding, but now it wasn't a game. She watched as he walked past the tree, seemingly unaware of her presence. Relief washed over her, but her respite was short-lived. He returned, kneeled, and peered down at her, his face twisted into a sinister smirk that revealed his elongated fangs.

Terrified, she couldn't suppress her scream, and he effortlessly yanked her out of her hiding place. As she fought back against his inhuman strength, she pleaded through sobs, "No! Let me go! Please—"

"Hush," the vampire whispered soothingly. "Your father is here now; I shall make it all better."

He smiled at her, and before she could fully comprehend his words, he sank his fangs into her neck. A harrowing shriek escaped her lips.

This was the end, she thought, the world fading around her. She would join her parents in the afterlife. Her vision blurred, and her body went limp against her will.

Eventually, her screams quieted, and the pain subsided. (Y/n) felt the vampire's arms carry her, her body unresponsive. Her breathing slowed, and her head spun. Everything began to fade to black.