Where I had hoped to see a bustling village, teeming with laughter and torchlight, children running in the streets, I saw nothing but the skeletal remains of buildings and people.

"What in God's name-" I whimpered, climbing to my knees, staring in horror at the burnt rubble, "-where is Lindenfeld?!"

It was gone. All of it! Everything! Nothing remained.

Quietly, I began to cry. Gradually it grew louder until I wailed.

I cried for so many different reasons: I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to return home to my warm bed, where I knew hot food would always be available. I cried because I was frightened- I was terrified as the realization settled in that I did not have enough food to survive the return trip home, and the one place I had hoped to resupply was just gone. I lamented for all the lives lost in Lindenfeld, only guessing that some great catastrophe had befallen all of its people. I sobbed because the only companion I had encountered thus far had been my imagination playing wicked tricks on me or something I could not rightfully explain.

I cried for a great many reasons, but I needed this cathartic moment- if to at least clear my head and help me sleep. No one alive or dead was going to cease my wailing for the time being.

By the time I had finally wiped the tattered sleeve of my undershirt across my face, leaving behind a streak of dirt and soot, I looked around the desolate village in the dying light of dusk.

I had to set up camp- while I knew I'd go hungry tonight, at least I would be able to take shelter from the majority of the cold. Casting my eyes skyward, I sniffled softly as the brilliant sky had turned gray and ominous. Wonderful, I thought as I collected my satchel and finally hoisted myself again onto my feet, it was going to rain.

"It could always snow," I murmured to no one in particular, another humorless smile twisting my lips into a lopsided grin.

It lasted but a moment more before it disappeared, and I marched through the devastated village, looking for any homes that I could squat in. Unfortunately, the majority of them were little more than the charred foundation. For a brief moment, my eyes flicked up towards the priory that sat relatively untouched. However, just staring at it, the tall white stoned walls caused a crawling sensation to wriggle beneath my skin. I'd take my chances out in the cold and wet.

After several minutes of searching, I found a safe haven. It wasn't much, but it was enough- half of the building stood untouched, and although the windows had been shattered, I would at least be dry.

Night had fallen, and with it, the clouds opened up and wept as I had, soaking the blackened Earth. I sat curled up in one of the corners; knees tucked up beneath my chin, my father's thick cloak wrapped tightly around my frame. I watched from my little corner inky black water drip from the room and pool on the filthy, lifting wood floors. Everything was black.

I listened to the steady tapping of the rain, fully aware of the fatigue that weighed down my eyelids. Sleep was better than sitting in the dark, alone like some sort of- I did not know, terrible beast in a cave?

With a sigh, I slid my back down the wall until I lay on my side, curled up in the fetal position, trying to ensure all my extremities were covered. Letting my eyelids flutter shut, I absently began to imagine my mother's warm hands stroking my long ebony hair as she hummed to me a lullaby. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I could swear I could smell her scented oils—Strawberry and vanilla, with a hint of cinnamon. Fresh, warm tears ran down my cheeks and cooled immediately- I didn't mind crying myself to sleep; it was the one thing I knew at least, I could control.

I wasn't surprised when sleep whisked me away to an empty dreamscape. I was comforted by the void. Dreamless sleep was better than nightmares.

"Remember-" a sudden and familiar disembodied female voice from somewhere in the nothing called out, causing me to search for its source. "Remember the lesson that compassion makes a man and cruelty makes a monster."

It was Bess! Immediately my heart jumped into my throat, recalling how she had vanished as if she'd never existed only a few hours ago. While every inch of my skin prickled, I wasn't afraid- this was my dream! I was in control!

"You're not real!" I screamed back into the all-consuming blackness, "you're just a phantasm of my dreams!"

Silence filled the emptiness until the voice replied again. "You're not listening, child."

A low growl erupted from my mouth. Bess wasn't listening! "You're not real! Y-You're just a figment of my imagination!" I repeated to dispel the illusion in my mind, to try and wake myself. However, despite my best efforts, I felt trapped, like I was submerged in molasses. I struggled until I was gasping, feeling as if I was allowing myself to be pulled deeper into its depths.

"Compassion will be your greatest ally."

"How can I be compassionate with a monster that would sooner eat me alive than listen to a word I have to say?! Bess, tell me!" Momentarily the voice did not respond. However, in its stead was a loud clattering, that grew in volume until I had to protect my ears.

I awoke bolt upright and gasped, my eyes wild with fright as I looked around my familiar settings. I was still in Lindenfeld, or what remained of it, in my hovel. I breathed a sigh of relief as I tried to shake off the remnants of my dreams. I was succeeding and jumped again when the same deafening clatter from my dreams filled my ears.

Frantically I began to search for the source of the noise. Much to my horror, I was unable to detect where the sound had resonated from, deciding to give up as nothing jumped out from the shadows. Or, so I silently hoped. While, sure, nothing jumped out of the gathering darkness, I watched frozen as shadows and inky blotches skirting just out of my field of vision like demons sent from the pit to torment me.

All night this cycle continued- I would fall asleep only to be whisked back into the sticky black tar of my dream where I'd begin sinking into its warm embrace. I'd foolishly think I was alone when time seemed to ebb out of existence only to be startled by Bess's voice rattling through my skull like an echo. I grew furious with the repeated snippets of our conversation, and I'd shout at her endlessly, repeating more for my benefit, that she wasn't real. When I thought I'd lose my voice if I continued yelling, something in the outside world would startle me awake. I hated the dream but being awake was far worse. Every time my eyes would snap open, new shadows would twist and creep around me, causing me to wonder if I was ever truly alone in this ghost town.

When the first light of dawn peeked over the snow-capped mountain to the west, I found myself reluctant to rouse. I was still exhausted, and unsurprisingly, the night hadn't offered me much in the way of restful sleep. As I considered laying there, warm beneath my cloak, my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten for a day. Damn, I thought as I forced myself to erect my spine with a groan- it was time to get up for the day. After a handful of stubborn pops from achy joints and I collected my satchel, I was outside in what remained of the village.

Lindenfeld was still a desolate graveyard. Seeing it in the soft light of dawn, the streets little more than black mud pits and bodies scattered hither-tither produced in me a feeling of utter isolation. The day before had stirred in me my desire to be among others, even if our interactions were brief- I missed the living and the hustle of a village.

I shook my head in an effort to resist the crushing miasma that permeated every surface and set out on my first mission- find food. I had a vague idea of what berries and roots I could consume without death, but I still had trouble with mushrooms. The forest was as good as any place to start looking, I reasoned.

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Perhaps, I thought pulling my cloak tighter, trying feebly to trap the last remnants of warmth that hadn't been swallowed whole by the icy morning, I could find a weapon. Reflexively one of my hands sank to the waistband of my trousers to finger my brother's knife. I had anticipated feeling only the thick wool of my gray tunic but breathed a sigh of relief when my fingers brushed the hilt. Good, at least I hadn't lost it.

Sadly it wouldn't do me any good catching breakfast. If I had a bow, then maybe? Slowly, I turned my head from right to left and back again in a futile cursory search for the object of my desire; I'd need to search a little more thoroughly.

My stomach gave another furious snarl, a second reminder that it was empty. "Not yet," I snapped, "I've got to find-" I trailed off, returning to the entrance of the village, intent on searching every square inch of the surrounding area for anything I could use as a weapon.

As I searched, I began to wonder if I had the strength to kill another living creature. When I had been home, I had never been out with Father and Timothy when they had gone hunting, and if a rooster had needed to be killed for supper, Timothy had always been more than eager to offer his services. Life was precious, and the idea of stealing something else's life to further my own made me nauseous. I swallowed hard as I made my decision- if I didn't kill something and eat it, then I certainly would perish before my journey's end.

As the morning wore on, I found what had likely been a lance or perhaps a spear? I had absolutely no idea. What I did know was that while I didn't have the materials or know-how to repair the weapon, the broadhead spear tip might come in handy. Wiping off the filth with my leg of my breeches, I slipped the blade into my satchel and continued on my way.

Just as I had been about to forego my search further did something in the distance catch my eye. Squinting, I glared in vain at the thing, trying to deduce what it was I was seeing. It could have been a bow, but it very well could have been a table leg, a charred piece of tree, or even part of a house too. At this point, I would have been happy with a sharp stick!

Carefully I made my way through the sticky mud, nearly slipping a handful of times before I reached my prize. It was a bow! It wasn't the most beautiful bow I'd ever seen and in rough shape, but it was still something! Giving it a quick test to ensure it was useable, I squared my stance and drew back the bowstring until it rested against my cheek pleased when the riser only groaned in response.

Releasing the tension of the taut string, warmth spread throughout my body that I hadn't felt since being home. It washed over me in a lazy wave that started at the top of my head and slowly trickled down the rest of my body. The feeling eventually began gently tugging at the corners of my mouth, coaxing me to smile. I did, and a small laugh followed. I had needed this small pick-me-up.

I allowed myself to be consumed with this temporary joy for a moment longer before I slung the bow over my back and began the search for arrows- a bow was great, but it wouldn't do me much good if I didn't have anything to fire. I reasoned that eventually, I'd have to make my own, but that was something to worry about later.

My search continued for a bit longer until I resigned to myself that the three arrows I had managed to collect throughout the chared remained of Lindenfeld, were all that I'd be lucky enough to find. With a huff, I looked back up towards the priory again, and the slimy wiggling inside me returned. Curiosity had begun to gnaw in the back of my skull despite my apprehension. I wanted to see what was there, to know why it gave me the collywobbles. Maybe there were more weapons inside.

Besides, I thought with a shrug, what was the harm of poking around? No one else was here, and if I got too scared, I could always leave.

Just as carefully as I had throughout the majority of the village, I moved towards the priory fraught with anxious curiosity. As I walked, I began to wonder what had happened here- it looked as if a dragon had come ripping through Lindenfeld, but dragons didn't exist, did they? So, what had caused the destruction?

I allowed the thought to pass through my mind and soon offered it to the ether, stopping to quirk a brow at another indistinguishable object ahead of me. It looked like a person sprawled out on their back. It could have been a rock and the cause of the fires that decimated Lindenfeld, but then again, it could have been anything. As I drew closer, I confirmed, with horror, that it was another corpse.

Silently I stood over the body, or what was left of it, my face scrunched up in disgust. I chided myself for my disgust but I argued that this particular cadaver was more human-esk. Whoever the person had been, they hadn't died by the fires - they weren't like the skeletal remains that littered the entirety of the town. They also looked important. While the majority of their black robes were tattered, dirty, and sunbaked, I could almost imagine what the clothes had looked like before. Definitely someone of import.

Maybe the person had been the mayor, I thought as I sank onto my haunches to get a better look at his receding features. There wasn't much for facial features and what remained was more skull than a face. After a moment more of appraisal, I moved on- I needed to leave Lindenfeld before noon if I had any chance of finding the castle before the first snow. This thought immediately made me fidget. Coupled with my lack of food and if I'd survive the creature in Dracula's castle, I'd be lucky to return home.

I had agreed to this, though when I had left in Father's stead.

I had begun my trek back up the hill to the priory when my stomach growled again, this time causing me to groan. I was far hungrier than I had remembered ever being. I needed to find something to eat, and while I desired to see what was inside the ominous building, finding something to eat was far more critical.

With a grumble and reluctance in my step, I turned away and headed into the surrounding woods.

Much like how I had combed through the village, so too did I search through the wilds. Much to my distaste, the results had been unsurprisingly similar. Food, it appeared, was much harder to find, especially on an empty stomach. Thankfully though, I had been lucky enough to find a thicket of blackberries that had yielded but a small handful. I cared little for the small scratches and pinpricks I received in the process, as I was simply overjoyed to be eating something.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and continued on my way, hoping to find something, anything else that would sate the rumble of my stomach. I looked up again at the sky, huffing as I was greeted with nothing but heavy gray rainclouds. Silently, I prayed that the rain wouldn't come yet. When I flicked my vision away, I stopped mid-stride.

"Is that-?!" I yelped, excitement bubbling up in my chest at the sight of what looked like an apple tree. I almost wanted to break out into a sprint again, elated that there may have still been a few good apples left on the branches but remained rooted when an acrid, rotting scent assaulted my nose.

I immediately wanted to gag- it was so pungent! Lifting my hands to my face, I covered my nose and mouth in an effort to block out even a fraction of the stench. I twisted my head left and right, trying to locate the source of the smell despite the feeling in my guts telling me it was coming from a pit that sat just feet in front of the apple tree.

Instantly my mind conjured the story of the Black Judge- recalling how he had used something similar to murder the children of his village.

Cautiously I walked forward until I could see some of the pit's bottom. Leaves, fallen twigs, apples, and small bones littered the pit floor, but so did tall sharpened spikes- again my mind remembering Bess' story. A weighted sense of unease coiled inside me the closer I got. When the entirety of the pit's bottom came into view, I shrieked but quickly clamped my hands over my mouth for fear that something in the woods might hear me.

There, impaled, was the body of a man- the source of the stink. Unlike the body that I had found in Lindenfeld, this body was still fleshy. Most of the face had rotted or been eaten away by smaller creatures and insects. I felt my stomach lurch as I sucked in a breath through my teeth, my stomach preparing to evacuate what little was in it. Clenching my teeth as hard as I could and swallowing roughly, I forced myself to regain my composure. This course of action was much easier said than done as I watched a long centipede crawl out from the man's empty eye socket and disappeared among the small human bones.

Despite my best efforts, I turned and hunched over to dry heave. I stood there, tightly hugging my arms around my stomach, and drooling for a moment as I tried to catch my breath. As I attempted to collect myself and I wiped my mouth again with the back of my shirtsleeve, the story of the Black Judge filled my head, and my eyes widened as I looked towards where I had come.

The body I had found in the village, the pit, the small bones: the story of the Black Judge hadn't been a story at all, it had all been real!

The same potent terror that had gripped me the day before when my traveling companion disappeared into the mist quickly retook hold. I wanted to run again, but I willed myself to remain. It took every ounce of strength to resist the ache in my muscles to flee, but I managed somehow.

When I stood up tall again, I didn't chance another look into the pit- I knew what was there, and I didn't need to see any of it again as the memory was more than enough. I fixated my gaze on the apple tree and moved around it quickly collecting a few apples that looked relatively unscathed before I slipped them into my satchel.

As I kneeled on the ground securing the bag, a soft rustling caused me to jerk my head in the direction of the sound. My heart had already been pounding for nearly losing my breakfast, but now it vibrated in my throat, almost choking me. Clumsily, my hands reached for the knife and with a quivering hand, I withdrew and held it at arm's length, prepared to fight for my life.