Violet sometimes hated being right. Monsters like these always seemed to follow certain rules. Why? Who knew. Maybe there was some god of vengeful spirits that made them. Maybe it was part of the way their powers operated. Maybe it was just funny to them and they were all sadists. But there were a few well known rules when fighting an angry spirit.

Don’t stop to ‘catch your breath’, because if you did then the spirit would suddenly be behind you when you looked back. Avoid running blindly past random rocks and trees that were big enough for the spirit to step out from behind. Kind of hard to not do while running in a forest. EXPECT the angry spirit to be in all directions. So long as you expected it, it wouldn’t be there. But the moment you let your guard down, it was there.

She’d already made that mistake.

Running through the rain and fog, she was so tired, so exhausted, that she’d just stopped for a moment. Leaned against a tree. Only for her to do the dumbest thing. She heard something behind her and she’d turned around. There hadn’t been anything. She should have just run that way. Instead she’d broken the most obvious of rules. She’d turned back towards the way she’d been going, at which point the angry spirit had come out.

Violet did have one edge, though. Enchanted knives. She’d spent a small fortune on them over the years, but the number of times they’d saved her life was practically unending. While they would be unlikely to KILL a spirit unless she got a few really good hits on them, it might temporarily disperse them. If she did it right, it might even disperse them for a few days. Even better, while the knife was in them it made the spirit a lot more solid and possible to attack.

Unfortunately, this spirit in particular seemed to be quite the nasty thing. It had jumped at her, its own claws flashing, and she’d only managed to stab it, causing it to pull back and allow her a chance to escape. In the exchange its claws had slashed a painful, bloody streak down her left arm.

Because blood loss wasn’t going to make her any more exhausted.

Violet clutched her arm, panting for air and wondering if it would be the blood loss, drowning in the rain or the spirit in the end that was going to get her. Maybe hypothermia. She certainly felt colder than she had since she’d taken this form. She supposed she should be grateful, this dragon form of hers was tougher than it looked, she probably would have lost her arm if she’d been human.

Then again, if not for the necklace she’d have not been in this situation to begin with.

Violet shook her head again. No, being grouchy about her situation and pissed at an old cursed piece of jewelry wasn’t going to help her here. She needed to focus and figure out how to get rid of this thing, for good. Or at least stall her death long enough for help to arrive. How long had she been running now? It felt like days. The sun had gone down ages ago, but fortunately this new dragon body of hers seemed to see in the dark well enough. The last thing she needed was to twist her ankle.

Once more she had to consider why it was targeting her.

Ami had worn the necklace for weeks, yet she’d never mentioned being attacked. Was it because she was a werewolf? Had the creature not wanted to hurt one? Or were the nightmares just the start? Why hadn’t Violet gotten nightmares? It seemed to have adopted a form very similar to her own. Some kind of weird half human, half dragon thing. Had it been waiting for some random human to put the necklace on, then attack her? If so, why start so soon? She’d only gotten the stupid thing last night. Weren’t spirits supposed to harass you for a few weeks BEFORE attacking? She preferred that. It gave her time to research, prepare and ensure she had backup.

It shouldn’t be like this, all of this felt too rushed.

If not for the necklace making her look like this and the monster appearing so similar, she’d have honestly considered that the two weren’t entirely connected. That, somehow, this was originating from somewhere else.

But that didn’t make any sense either. If someone wanted her dead, why do it now? When she was, honestly, tougher than normal? Why not attack her when she was a weaker human? Was it because she hadn’t left the city in a while? Nope, in the end that didn’t make any sense either.

Violet supposed that when she considered how impossible the other ideas were, the answer was obvious. Whatever her tampering had done to result in her looking like this, it obviously resulted in pissing off whatever angry spirit had cursed this necklace to begin with. Hell, maybe it wasn’t an evil spirit, just an angry spirit. Maybe the necklace was ONLY supposed to be worn by werewolves and now that she was wearing it, it was pissed.

Violet stopped for a moment, gasping for air. She hurt so much. How much blood had she lost? How long had she been running? She remembered hearing once that humans used to be able to run for hours in pursuit of their prey, honestly, she felt bad for that prey. Running for so long sucked.

She could almost hear her mother scolding her for her eating habits again. Wow. Even when running for her life she could still feel the guilt trip from here. She tried to shove that thought aside.

Violet looked around, trying to peer through the fog. Careful to not actually focus too hard on anything. She wondered if it was a sign of just how tired she was that she didn’t want to trash talk the spirit. Why waste the breath when it likely wouldn’t care?

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

She really, really hoped Tani had help on the way. The last thing she wanted was to be another story of ‘And all they found in the morning was her necklace.’

Ugh, this was so not fair. She was supposed to be back at the manor, wearing pretty dresses as she was teased by an evil vampire. Not fighting for her life with a stupid angry spirit. Grudgingly she started running again. Why did nothing she fought ever fight fair? It was always ‘I’ll disorient the world around you’ or ‘I’m immortal unless you use specific tools’ or ‘I’m so much faster and stronger than you that you can barely even see me before I’ve ripped out your spine’ or ‘I’m so hot I make you drool on yourself and feel like an awkward teenage girl with a massive zit on her prom night’. It was never ‘Oh, I just have this big glowing weak point that if you kick I’ll go down in two or three hits.’

Then, suddenly, she was out of the fog. It was still pouring, but the thick fog no longer blocked her sight. She slowed her pace again and glanced back. Wait, was she out? Had she escaped? Relief flooded her. She’d done it. Maybe the spirit--

Relief.

SHIT!

Violet turned just in time to see the spirit coming from ahead of her. She barely ducked under its claws and stepped to its side, her knife flashing out and lodging in its arm, only to be torn out of her hand when the arm yanked back. She slashed out with the blade in her other hand, but this time it smacked her wrist, making the blade fall from her hand and nearly breaking her wrist. It then lunged at her.

Violet backpedaled as quickly as she could, but she wasn’t fast enough. She fell backwards, slamming back first into a tree and stunning herself for a moment. She felt the cold, vicious claws of the spirit wrap around her neck and, despite herself, she let out a pained, frightened whimper.

She was going to die. She stared up at the monster, its form shifting, as strange and faded as the fog it seemed to draw in.

Violet grabbed the wrists with left hand, struggling to pull them off. But the monster was much more powerful and, unfortunately, it seemed the knife she’d stabbed it with had already fallen out. She fumbled at her holsters with her right hand, trying to find and free another knife. She had to have more. If she could just stab it a few times. Get it to let go. Get it to--

“MINE!” a voice yelled.

A moment later something flew through the spirit, making it dissipate, before slamming into the tree and then crumbling to the ground.

It took Violet a few moments to realize that ‘thing’ was Scarlet. She gasped for air, relief washing over her. She couldn’t believe it. What was Violet doing here? She looked like a mess, well, more of a mess than normal. Her dress was soaked through, her hair all stringy and flat on her head. Her glasses were cracked and her nose all bruised. She had never looked more beautiful, and Violet would have kissed her if she could.

Except it was then that the spirit lunged on the vampire’s back and wrapped its claws around her throat, intending to choke her out it seemed. Violet blinked and then feebly groped her body, trying to find another knife. She had more somewhere, didn’t she?

Scarlet, meanwhile, slowly began to sit up into a kneeling position, despite the fact the spirit was on her back, lifting both of them up. She then reached up, touching the hands around her throat before sliding her hands up to the wrists. She then squeezed.

There was a poofing sound and the spirit once more dissipated. Scarlet then turned to her. “Violet? Are you okay?”

“Not yet,” Violet said before finally drawing one final knife. How many had she already lost? Oh, she did not want to have to replace all these. Then again, she didn’t want to die and if she had to make a choice, she’d choose replacing expensive knives.

“You’re bleeding,” Scarlet said, her eyes focused on the arm.

“I’m going to be dying soon if we don’t-- LOOK OUT!”

Unfortunately, Scarlet didn’t seem to understand and the spirit’s claws slashed into her back. Scarlet let out a shriek of pain, falling to her knees on the ground. The spirit towered over her, its claws raised high in the air to try and land a finishing blow.

Violet lunged forward, shoving off the tree with all her might and slamming into the spirit’s chest. It began to dissipate once more. Until her knife plunged forward into its fading body. Once more it solidified and, for the moment, its body remained still and real, solidifying around her. Oh, that was NOT an experience she ever wanted to feel again, the sensation of being half inside of a solidifying spirit. The pair crashed down into the grass, but she held the knife in as best she could.

Unfortunately she couldn’t properly defend herself like this and she let out an agonized scream when she felt claws stab deep into her back.

A moment later, the spirit was gone. She collapsed to the ground, gasping for air and looking back. Everything hurt. Her arm. Her back. How much blood was she losing?

She looked up and felt a chill run through her, one not caused by the icy rain.

Scarlet was towering over her, her eyes burning red, the spirit’s head in one hand, the rest of its body in the other. Both fading to fog and causing the knife that was in it to drop to the ground with a splash.

The two stared at each other for a long moment. Even as the rain faded away, the two didn’t move.

Violet wasn’t sure she even had any more knives, not that they’d do much good. She was wounded. Bleeding. She could barely move. Everything hurt.

But that look on Scarlet’s face was one she’d seen on a vampire’s face before. Right before they went into a violent feeding frenzy. One where they gave into all of their deepest, darkest desires.

Slowly, Scarlet knelt down and her hand reached out. Violet let out a soft cry of pain when the finger pressed against the wound in her backside, dipping a finger in her blood. She watched helplessly when the vampire lifted the finger up towards her mouth.

Violet stared at the woman, helpless. She closed her eyes and gave another soft, pathetic little whimper.

She couldn’t believe she was going to die. Not to an angry spirit. But to a hungry, vicious vampire.