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Ochako was safe from winter’s bite. A thin layer of glass and wood between her and the cold air outside. A warm mug cradled in her hands, steam floating upwards to escape it’s chocolate grasp. Her eyes reflected the white landscape outside, specks floating to join it’s brethren on the ground. The sky was a murky grey with evening soon to fade into night. It would’ve been a serene sight if it weren’t for the tension resting in her stomach like bog water. The memories ever present in the back of her mind.
The room was plagued by the smell of death. A repugnant scent, making her stomach lurch with the need to vomit. The bile threatening her at the bottom of her throat but her will stood strong enough to suppress it. Sweat trailed her brow, tracing the roundness of her face and drenching her shirt. Her hands were equally as clammy as she held the foreign crossbow. Her aim was far from steady, looking everywhere but her target under the shakiness of her grip.
“Oh, you’re a cute little thing.”
Came the woman’s voice, chipper and a hair’s breadth from seductive. Her smile was wide, displaying her fangs for Ochako to see. They would have likely been a stark white if not for the crimson red dripping from them and down her chin. The blood was as fresh as could be, not even an inch of rigor mortis had found the bodies yet; Still soft and paling around their legs, unaware of the conversation above them.
Ochako shook her head to rid herself of the recollection. The sweet drink in her hand tasting far too much like iron and dust as a result. The shiver that followed could be attested to either the memory or the dwindling fire and she opted for the latter. An issue that could be rectified and set to rest far easier than a traumatic memory.
The floorboards creaked under her weight, shifting and protesting each step as she ambled over to the coffee table. A pink coaster with hand-painted white stars was where she placed her mug before she pulled her cardigan closer. It’s material was soft and warm, long enough to reach her knees and perfect for lazing about in the cabin. It wasn’t enough to protect from the cold, making her fetch her knitted hat, gloves, and her bulky coat from the small entrance cove before heading outside.
The snowflakes kissed her bundled body as she emerged into the open and brisk space. The lack of wind made the area feel empty, filled with nothing but silence beyond the crunching of snow. The barren branches did not sway, the snow called for no one, and the space couldn’t care less about holding her. Yet, she didn’t find herself lonely, not when paranoia bore holes into her skin. The feeling of being watched clung to her mind ever since she returned home.
The first night had been hard. Between the images that played crystal clear against the backdrop of her closed eyes, to the unease of unseen eyes trailing her every move. In the week that had followed she slowly eased herself into a feeling of security. Seven days had passed and life had returned to normalcy, pretending nothing had ever happened to her. It almost had her believing its words. Even if an unaccounted for noise or an off-kilter shadow had her jumping.
Like say, the snapping of a branch in the distance after she’d hoisted a few logs into her arms. Her head snapped up at the sound, like an elastic band returning to form. Her wide eyes scanned the area around her to find nothing beyond grey and white. The clutter of trees hid nothing with their thin trunks and nakedness. Just as she’d done many times before, she chocked it up to animals scurrying about and made her (quickened) way back inside.
After she’d placed the logs down and disrobed she was back to her cardigan jacket and hand-woven gift of a sweater underneath. A poker in hand as she added the wood to the fire and breathed new life into it’s flames. The paranoia felt stronger, a sensation gripping her spine and making her want to hold onto the poker for protection. A notion she forced herself to discard, she was no child afraid of boogiemen. The only sound in the room was the fire and her. She was safe.
A lie that shattered onto the ground once she’d place her would-be weapon away and reached for her mug. Her fingers never made it to the porcelain, frozen in fear with a new-found tremble when something wrapped itself around her. Hands as cold as death slipped under the hem of her sweater, ghosting along her stomach that attempted to flee in repulsion. Freeze turned into flight as she attempted to escape the intruder’s grasp. A grasp that tightened to prevent such a thing from happening. It pulled her close, back pressing against their chest.
“Now that’s something I’ve missed.” They mused into Ochako’s ear, cool breath fanning the lobe.
Ochako steeled herself, taking a deep breath as her eyes narrowed. She couldn’t see them, but the voice was feminine. The same as that day a week ago. “What is?”
“Warmth.”
As if to punctuate the statement the woman nuzzled her face into Ochako’s neck. The action was far too familiar and loving for the situation, almost as if the woman was taunting her. She likened it to a sadistic predator playing with it’s food before eating. Her hands underneath Ochako’s sweater had taken to lightly petting her skin, almost soothing if it weren’t for how painfully cold they were. Her teeth were just as cold, feeling the edges grazing her neck. A shiver ran up her spine, anticipation gripping her body, waiting for the moment she’d become another body at the woman’s foot.
A wait that stretched on longer than she’d expected, enough to make her question. There were no taunts, no subtle moves of power, just deep breaths of her scent as the woman basked in her warmth. Ochako licked her lips before chancing the risk of speech, “Is that why you’re here?”
She felt the vibration of her humming, “Mmm, nope!”
Ochako was still as she awaited elaboration, either in the form of words or actions. However, the only thing she was met with was the woman snuggling closer, rubbing her forehead against her neck. It was a faint relief that her fangs were no longer hovering half an inch from her vital points. She prodded again, searching for more. “…Then why are you here?”
“Because you’re interesting.” The woman answered, tangling a whole new knot into the mess. Apparently the threatening undertones of the situation were lost on her as she backed away. The couch behind them groaned as she flopped down onto it, casually, as if they were merely friends having a chat. A sight that had Ochako blinking in confusion and offence. The woman chose to speak again before Ochako could collect her thoughts. “I want to learn more about you.”
“Me?” She asked, wanting to sound furious and intimidating but found her voice came out as a squeak. The memories she’d seen every night feeling stronger in her mind, reducing her normal confidence to meekness.
The aim was horrible, arrow loaded. The only two targets it could hit an unfeeling wall and the bloody vampire ahead.
“I swear I’ll do it!” Ochako barked; A shaky dog protecting a non-existent master.
The predator ahead looked on without a trace of fear. It knows its prey, knows its strength and capabilities from observation alone. She knows Ochako could pull the trigger and she knows the look in her eye suggests she doesn’t want to. An invisible barrier held her finger from the trigger despite the grief and shock racking her body and mind.
“I don’t think so.” She said, calmly. The panther to the deer.
Ochako’s brows furrowed, angry at being underestimated. “What makes you so sure?”
“You’re a healer, not a killer.” She retorted, licking her fangs. “You’re not like me.”
Ochako found her anger dampened by the words, not quite gripping the unexpected observation. Distrust coated her words, assuming the predator to be bluffing, manipulating. “And how would you know?”
“You didn’t discriminate earlier.” She answered, matter of fact and without falsehood. Something close to vulnerability seeps into her words. “You fed and helped all of us, even me.”
Ochako faltered. Her altruism and the words of her mentor encouraging her to reason. A chance, to help someone, no matter how bloodied their hands. The crossbow was lowered, still raised but no longer directly swaying in the vampire’s direction. An action that is met with a lunge. It’s quick, faster than Ochako can blink and had her stumbling away from the sudden proximity between them.
The crossbow was ripped from her hands, clattering to the ground out of reach. A reminder of a vampire’s strength and speed. She could see the smirk on the woman’s face, the hints of her fangs and a glint in her eye. Yet, her voice is less sadistic and more…hurt. A front of the monster cracking and peeling to reveal pieces of a scared child underneath. “Do you regret it now? Helping me?”
Ochako found a sliver of sureness, of something undeniable as she speaks with the sturdiness of rocks and mountains. “No. I don’t.”
The woman, who’d taken care to hide herself behind her mask, was now naked before her. Her eyes wide in surprise and mouth hung open without words.
The memory was at its end, now peering down at her with that same mix of fright and confidence. Although far duller when the lack of immediate threat had been done away with. “Is that why you didn’t kill me?”
The throw pillow served as a crutch for the woman’s elbow, leaning against it with cheek squished against palm. Her attention drawn towards the flames dancing with faux-boredom, another mask. “Maybe.” She let her smile creep back onto her lips, curling them to match her half-lidded eyes. “You smile nice.”
“Why did you kill them?” Ochako glared. Her anger fuelled not only on behalf of the dead, but by way of the woman’s attitude. The inability to grasp the gears that make her tick, unable to place the pieces together to form an understandable picture. “They had lives, famil—”
“You think I don’t?” Despite the interruption and heat underneath the surface, the woman was calm. Her explanation came as smooth as a school teacher’s, lightly punctuated with irritation. “A girl has to drink. I’m not going to sit in agony starving when I can hunt a perfectly fine deer.”
Ochako crossed her arms, lacking the pout of a petulant schoolchild. “Humans aren’t deer, it’s different.”
“Is it?” The woman’s mask of happiness is pained, paint cracked along the stiffened edges. What was once flexible had gone rigid. “We hunt and kill just like animals do. The only difference is the languages we speak and the thumbs we use.” She hides it, turning to face the flakes of cold drifting down past the glass panes. “You’d be surprised how much cannibalism is in nature.”
“…is there no other way?”
“Nope.” It’s emphasized with a pop of the P.
Ochako studied the back of her head. The unruly blond hair flayed at the edges of her buns, the slump in her shoulders, how warn her clothing is. She held her convictions, but found it hard not to reach out for neutral ground.
“Do you have to drain someone dry?” She asked, taking a seat on the next cushion over. “Is there a way to eat without, you know, killing them?”
“Yeah,” she answered, forlorn and bitter. “There used to be one.”
She felt a prick in her heart, but from where or what she could only hazard a guess. An inkling from context clues that gave a faint outline in the fog. “What do you mean…used to?”
The woman sighed before turning back around, her mask fixed and adorned with a smirk. “I came here because I’m interested in you.” Her eyes wandered in the brief pause, studying the details of Ochako with a sharp gaze, hunger radiating from her in a manner that would make anyone squirm. “I didn’t realize the feeling was mutual.”
Ochako felt her cheeks turn as red as the hands she had been caught with. The only way to hide the evidence was to avert her face and let her hair block anything that might give away the obvious. “It’s not everyday you meet a vampire…”
A chuckle broke the atmosphere, followed by the sound of the couch groaning as the woman scooted closer. The edge of her body pushed against Ochako’s, something that certainly didn’t help her flush. Not when the woman’s breath hit her neck again, the phantom feeling of her teeth close by.
“And yet, you’re about to offer yourself…” It’s low and sultry, pushing her buttons far more than she’d like to admit.
She attempted to save face, her own mask the transparency of glass. “I never said that…”
“You were going to.” She said, breaking the thin veil with ease. Despite seeing underneath she was merciful, offering her another. “Or am I mistaken?”
“No,” Ochako’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat. She found confidence in her barren face for the moment. “I, I was going to do that.” Before the woman could interject she looked back at her, steadfast despite the blush. “If you don’t hurt the village.”
She watched as the woman’s eyes flickered down to her neck before meeting her own again. Something impish had found its way into them again. The glint of something that made her stomach flutter. “That can be arranged, sweetheart.” The nickname made her heart leap, galloping against her chest like a racehorse.
“I think that’s what I’ll call you.” She explained, reaching forward to cup Ochako’s cheek. Her slowly warming hands brushing Ochako’s skin. The pads of her fingers striking the horse to run faster. “Your scent is sugary, just like your personality.” Ochako’s body tensed as she leaned in, a predator stalking its prey and slowly gearing towards its kill. She could feel the prickle of her fangs’ edges, ready to strike.
“I bet you taste just as nice.”