Troublesome was not the word to describe the creature that haunted their village every night. Terror was not the appropriate word to describe just how severe the fear was among the people living there. The young woman glanced over her shoulder as she walked in to the apothecary, not seeing a mysterious man that lingered in a shadowed ally, watching her every step.

The shop itself was musky, the hearth warmed air carrying the scent of the many herbs that hung from the ceiling. Above the fire, a small pot was hung, a mysterious deep red liquid bubbling within, producing the sweetest aroma the woman had ever smelt. She requested her small wound attended to, the apothecary cast a cautious glance at her. She explained her predicament,the apothecary clucking at her, obviously irate for her foolishness. He bound her wounded finger in lavender soaked cloths and sent her on her way, calling out a warning to watch her action the next time else it would be her next on the vampir’s dinner menu.