It was another mostly restless night. I waited for everything in town to quiet down. In the early hours of the morning I returned for Fern, only to discover that quiet did not mean that everyone was asleep. Unable to reclaim either my horse or the remainder of my gear without being spotted I was forced to leave empty-handed.

When I finally allowed myself to relax, it was not hidden in a dark hole like I usually did. I laid myself down out in the open, where the first rays of the sun were guaranteed to keep me focused, and in the one place no one would ever expect to find me, on the roof of Onar’s barn. Its top section was nearly flat, a clever way to create a larger interior space without building higher. Because of that it created the perfect hiding spot.

Even as late as it was I could not calm down. Shae’s haunted, traumatized expression chased me every time I closed my eyes. She had been so happy, bubbly, clingy even, and in the blink of an eye all of that had changed.

Onar’s fault!

I had been doing something… no… achieving something I had never managed before. I had found a small community of people that maybe not trusted, but at least tolerated me. All of that had been lost now, and I doubted I could find something like it ever again. I doubted I would even be able to get out of this alive.

I had let hope into my heart, I had allowed myself to believe for a short moment that things could be different for me. They could not. I was a monster, same as all the other monsters. All too soon now I would be hounded, hunted, cut down unceremoniously.

Just like I do to the other monsters every single day.

How many demons had I killed, how many monsters had I hunted that deserved a chance every bit as much as I did. I could not know, because I never paused to consider it. In the end I was just as bad, every bit as judgemental as Onar. Monsters and demons were evil, a plague that needed to be eradicated. That was simply how the world worked.

I could not, should not fault Onar for the same prejudices I held, but I still did. It was his fault, his damn fault. It was because of him that I was in this mess, because of him that Shae had looked at me like that.

The first rays of the sun found me beyond grumpy, and with new resolve. I would not let this stand. From my hiding spot up on the roof I observed, or let my nose and ears do the observing for me. After all, I did not need to see what people were doing, just know where they were.

I waited patiently, letting some half-opportunities pass. Regardless of my sour mood, I dared not screw this up because I was impatient. Eventually, an opening presented itself. Onar was heading for the barn. Shae was all the way on the other side of their land, the barn’s entrance out of sight for her.

After last night the man was skittish. I could tell from the uncertain, nervous way he moved. Every so often he would stop, wait, then move on. Whenever he hesitated, I could tell it was because of me, because of how I had disappeared so suddenly in the middle of the night. I could almost taste the possibility eating away at him. What if I was still around…

He repeated the same worried motions when he approached the barn door, slowing down, faltering, probably wondering if I might be hiding inside, or sneaking up on him from behind. Yet like all prey, Onar never looked up, never expected the threat to come from above.

Right before he stepped inside the barn, I jumped down from the roof, landing right in front of him.

He froze up, the taste of his sudden terror nearly drowning out everything else. Maybe he realized then. Maybe he became aware that even weakened by this sunny weather, I could have landed right on top of him and killed him before he even realized I was there.

The man’s shocked reaction was exactly what I had hoped for. Panic always ruined observation skills. Just to make sure, I enforced his panic with a murderous stare. That way, with a little luck he would be terrified enough that he wouldn’t even notice the uncoordinated way I picked myself up from the ground.

After several seconds of white-faced shock, of being captivated by my gaze, Onar scrambled back, swearing incoherently.

A part of me was glad for his continued fear. Watching the man that had ruined everything for me cowering in shock was cathartic. Another part of me was excited. Terrified prey was the best of all.

Wrenching my gaze away from his face, I ruthlessly shelved both sentiments. Neither would help me here, and I had already let my fury dominate my actions far too much. It was hard to keep the anger down, but I had to. The man was useless to me this terrified. I needed to do this calm and composed. All I had bottled up over the night wanted out so bad though.

I took a deep, calming breath. “You and I have things to discuss,” I declared, coloring my voice with a small, controlled tinge of wrath.

I still needed that hint of anger, just a trickle of it, enough to add an extra edge of authenticity. Normal people couldn’t flip from angry to impassive as fast as I could. The man was already convinced enough that I was a monster. I did not want to reinforce that notion more than I had to. It would only terrify him more, and that was the opposite of what I needed.

Sampling the ever-changing flavor of his every emotion, I responded in kind. A shift of a muscle, a tilt of my head, a minute change in my posture, all of it were carefully calculated reactions to his mood. None of my manipulations were subtle, but I didn’t need them to be. The only thing I needed here, was to push him past this fear.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

I succeeded. A hint of the same fury he had displayed last night surfaced. The man brandished the first thing he could get his hands on in front of him. “Get back!” he screamed, waving what was barely more than a twig.

Aaah… so cute.

I shoved that annoying part of me down as well. Depreciating the prey, labeling it as adorable, pathetic, pointless, it was not helpful either. It did not matter how much I hated this man, how all of this was his fault. I was the rational one here, and one way or another, I would make this foolish prey see that.

His anger, while better than fear, was not ideal either, so I pushed him past that emotion as well. “Or what?” I wondered aloud, with a teasing grin on my lips.

The small provocation was all Onar needed. Even with his useless little stick, he charged. I sidestepped and pulled the thing out of his hands as he barreled past. I reeled from even that little bit of exertion, but did not let it show. I could not show any kind of weakness now, no matter how much effort it took me to move like this, exposed to the sun.

He stood there gasping, gaping at me and then his empty hands. He opened his mouth but no sound came out.

Even more pitiful.

This was the moment he would realize that he was the prey. That he was at my mercy. I waited, hoping for the first sign that he would stop acting, and start thinking.

Frantically he searched his surroundings. Nowhere to run. No weapons in sight. No one was in shouting distance but his daughter.

I kept waiting. Either he would become aware that he was still alive because, despite everything he assumed about me, I was not here to kill him. Or he would run away screaming, dragging his daughter into what he thought was an assault by a bloodthirsty monster.

He going to risk her life again?

I feared he might do so. He had been fiercely protective of Shae so far, right up until yesterday evening. Then his reckless actions had endangered her life. He should have broken off his charge the second I let go of her, should have prioritized getting her to safety over attacking me. Instead he had barreled past her, his own weapon mere inches from her face. His fear and hate of me had made him risk his own daughter’s life. I needed to know if he would make that same mistake again.

I had tried to run every possible way this could go through my mind. This was the point where I always got stuck. I could not predict how he would react past this point. From here on out, I was improvising.

“Fine. Stop playing games already and do it!” he spat eventually.

Do what?

He still think I’m here to kill him?

And this was the problem, this was what made it impossible for me to determine how he would react. Blinded by hate as he was, Onar was probably still assuming that I was here to kill him. Even now, when rationally, logically, I would gain no advantage from killing him, he still thought I would. It was a painful reminder, that no matter how hard I tried, I still could not understand human emotions.

“Do what? You’re the one that tried to kill me!” I spat back.

Not good. Not good. Got to calm down.

I was pissed as all hell too, failing to keep my anger in check, and that was not a good way to go about this. I tried to push down my anger, see it from his side, but I was just so seething mad at this man.

Onar fell to his knees, grabbed on to the legs of my trousers, and begged. “Please, please, don’t kill me, I’ve got a daughter, oh gods, please don’t harm her.”

What?

He’s… back to being terrified?

This was the complete opposite of what I had been expecting. I was supposed to talk him down, desperately stop him from trying to kill me, prevent him from running away screaming. Instead, I was faced with a blubbering mess.

Bewildered, and not knowing what else to try I got down on my knees in an attempt to make myself appear as small and non-threatening as possible. Grabbing his shoulders I forced him to look at me. “Why are you so scared of me?” I begged.

He glanced at me, at the fangs in my mouth, then down at my hands holding his shoulders. My left hand, claws poking through the ruined glove, holding him down. He shook me off and scrabbled back, whimpering in terror.

Studying him, from this close, as he scrambled away from me, was enlightening. Blinking in surprise, I realized why he was so scared. It was such a perfectly rational fear, but even now I was still denying what I knew about myself. I myself was too terrified to admit these conflicting truths out loud.

Thinks I’m one of the monsters.

But I’m not a vampire!

This was where things were breaking down between us. Confronting his fear meant confronting my own messes, my own denial. Sorting myself out while trying to fix someone else’s irrational fear just wasn’t working.

How can I ever get this man to trust me, if I can’t even admit such a simple truth to myself?

I could not think of anything. Everything I might try would only be filtered through that same flawed perspective, that of his irrational fear. No matter what I did, he would always see it as a monster manipulating a whole town into liking it simply to further its own demented goals. There was no way I could ever break through that.

No way.

Except maybe one.

He had not risked his daughter again. It might work. It was stupid. Suicidal. Idiotic. I had made so many of these retarded mistakes here, that one more of them would not matter. In the end, it was only one more stupid act in a long line of utterly boneheaded decisions.

He feared me because, more than anything, he was powerless around me. The only way to fix that was to grant him that power, grant him power over the big, scary monster.

Secret’s out already in this town.

Just a matter of time now before the Inquisition gets to me.

Might as well happen this way.

My life, in his hands.

In hindsight, it did not compare to the stupid decisions I had made before. I just acted, without thinking.

“It’s unnatural, me out here in the sun, isn’t it?” I asked him as I sat down. I fished underneath my shirt, pulling out the amulet by its cord. “Truth is, I can’t. I’d die without this.” I looked at the amulet for a second, imagining the web of tiny runes etched into it that I could not see in the light of day, before pulling it over my head.

My next words were a struggle. With the amulet removed from my skin the power of the sun tearing at my Metzus, eating at me as I tried to keep my body animated was overwhelming. Simply getting my tongue and mouth to move in the right ways required so much. I had only consumed the one fox two nights ago. I would run out soon.

“Give it back… I live… keep it… die.” I stammered, then tossed the thing towards him with the last of my strength.

My arm sank back down. The world tilted as I tried to remain sitting. My shoulder hit the dirt, then my head followed.

I tried to twist my neck… look his way… Muscles… wouldn’t.

Ugh.

Stupid!

Flesh sizzled… drooped… melted.

I… Metzus… withered.

Mistake.

Decomposing.

Ha’ to… keep think… not let…

The meat… made sound… words… language…

Wasn… as ba… las’ti…

wha… dffr…