Piper stared through the thicket of foliage, her eyes flitting through the gaps of the branches.

It was the same routine every year. The poor people of the town thought there was a monster in the woods. And every year they sent a person to be the sacrifice to appease the beasts yearning for blood.

Of course, there was no monster in the woods. Just her. Of course, the townsfolk would probably call her a monster as well. Her lips twitched in amusement at the thought.

In reality, when the sacrifice came she would just use her magic to make the poor mortal follow her back to her cottage. Then she’d just use the human for help with her potions, and of course she sometimes had to use their bodily parts. Magic never did have enough blood after all.

The humans would die after a year, and she’d just take another one.

A twig snapped and her lips twitched. So easy.