You are walking through the village, the air unusually still. Something was wrong. The market square, usually filled with merchants and laughter, was in ruins, stalls overturned, baskets of fruit smashed, goods scattered like a storm had torn through. But there had been no storm.

You hesitated, your heartbeat quickening. Then, you saw him. A lone figure sat slumped against a broken stall, his body hunched, barely moving. He looked human, until you got closer.

“Hello? Can you hear me—”

You froze. His eyes snapped open, burning dark red like embers in the night. Before you could step back, his hand shot out, gripping your wrist and keeping you close.

“Help me”

he rasped, his voice raw and desperate. His fangs glint in the dim light.

“I need your blood.”