A hunters game

**Warning - This story contains dark themes. Including violence, death, and blood.**

Amid 14th-century Ireland, the darkened night enveloped the briar and thistles as Mar, a vampire of 127 years, strolled through the thick fog clinging low to the ground. The moonlight reflected off her milk-pale skin, contrasting her deep, ebony hair as she glided through the night.

As Mar reached the village that was her destination, she noticed the thrum of two heartbeats at a constant distance as she strolled. She aimed for a shadowed area and slowed, waiting for them to reveal themselves.

The heartbeats quickened as she slowed her pace. If Mar had a heart, she was sure it would have quickened in tune with theirs. Instead, as they closed around her, her smile grew in anticipation.

The men, covered in grime and feeling secure in the shadows that cloaked them, called out to her. Their tactics held no surprise for Mar; she had been roaming these lands too long to be surprised. These men, weaker than herself, were Mar's favourite prey.

Her smile chilled, and her fangs flashed as the only warning. She had learned long ago never to give too much notice when facing multiple adversaries. She flung herself at the man closest with fluid motion, her nails raking through his tunic in beastial fury. He froze, stunned, as her fangs sank deep into the tender flesh at his nape.

The second man had enough time to gather his wits as she drained the lifeblood of his companion. He backed away in confused fury. Unseathing her fangs from the cold and clammy skin, she flashed him her most charming smile.

“Don’t want to play?” she teased, blood dripping down her chin in a dramatic flourish she loved. The man's face paled. She lunged at him as he opened his mouth to shout, and they landed hard in the dirt. She pinned him by the shoulders, fluttered her lashes at him, placed a bloody kiss on his lips, and then sank her fangs deep into his neck.

Standing, she brushed down her heavy cotton dress and gazed upon her handiwork—the two men sprawled on the hard turf, their skin an ashen pallor. No one would notice. This is why she loved Ireland. The lack of sunshine hid her fair complexion and made her victims less noticeable.

The thrill of her feed made her feel weightless as the blood spread warmth through her numb skin. She stood, eyes closed, her face basking in the moonlight as she followed the heat that travelled through her murky veins. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and glanced at her newest art.

With her skin now renewed with warmth, the numbness faded. She leaned close to the man closest to her, caressing her hand over the marks she had left on his skin. A chill ran down her spine with the sweet sensation.

In the distance, a wolf howled at the moon. She wanted to gaze upon her work longer, but she had to continue. Picking up a corner of the man's ratty brown tunic, she dabbed the blood from her face.

She would let the wolves have the bodies, and she had somewhere else to be tonight.

She strolled gracefully through the village, inspecting each front door, searching for the symbol. When she finally saw it on the wooden gate of a large manor just outside the western part of the village, she glanced down at her bare feet and let out a puff of stale air.

Keenly aware of her naked feet and what that would mean for later, she pushed open the front door to the house. It opened with a sharp noise that caused Mar to hold her hands over her ears, a prominent warning that someone had entered. She glared back at the door and ripped it off completely. She was sick of these games.

Unfortunately, her feet were bare, and her temper flared as she entered the meeting room. Within sat five vampires. Her family. None turned to her as she entered. They were the last of their species, having searched the land for others but only ever finding bloodthirsty humans.

“Well, I’m here,” Mar said as a greeting, her hands firmly on her hips.

Her mother, Miatis, slowly turned to look at Mar. She opened her mouth, a smile half-formed, but her eyes caught on Mar’s feet, and she closed her mouth into a thin white line. “What have I told you about not wearing shoes!” Her voice was high-pitched and grated on Mar’s ears, but she stood tall and faked innocence.

“No one remembers. It doesn’t matter,” Mar said, hooding her eyes, shrugging her shoulders, and finding a seat.

Miatis stood before Mar within a heartbeat, her long talon-like nails gripping Mar’s face. Mar rolled her eyes. “Dramatic, as always, mother.”

“Do you plan on them knowing again? Do you want to repeat what happened before?” Her voice grew into a shrill wail, echoing through the house.

All the remaining warmth drained from her, leaving her skin cool and numb again. No, she did not want to live through that again. She had been trying to remember about shoes for the past 50 years or so, but it was just so hard to care.

Her mother let go with a brisk jerk and floated over to stand behind her husband's chair. He didn’t move, of course; he was practically stone now. She glanced at each of her brothers, equally as still as her father.

Mar glared at her mother. “What is happening?” Fury had her back on her bare feet in a wide stance as she faced her.

She waved a dismissive hand. “You know how they are. If I give them too much blood, they would be out of control.”

Mar scoffed but relaxed. “They need to wake up; give them blood.”

Miatis sighed and placed her palm over her husband's face, hiding his eyes. Then she slowly maneuvered her palm so the skin broke open on his fangs. The blood dripped from her wrist, flowing over his chin, with a small amount pooling in his mouth and slowly trickling down his throat.

“We must leave. Just imprinting your feet in the dirt will trigger human memories.” Miatis locked her stare directly at Mar, who scoffed in reply. “Get yourself ready.”

Mar left the dark room without offering to help wake her brothers. Once they woke, her family would flee the area for the fifth time because of her. The stories passed down through generations of humans changed with each telling, but the underlying themes remained the same. The impressions of tiny soles in the mud were always remembered. A chill ran up Mar’s spine at the memory of the last time the humans figured out her feet were the ones from their stories and what had happened afterward.

Mar and her family abandoned the dreary house together, trekking through the night. They stopped only when the air began to warm and their skin started to prickle. The sun would soon rise. They each buried themselves in the ground and waited for the sun's warmth to dissipate from the soil. They emerged again when the moon reclaimed the sky, continuing their journey.

“Stay here; I will find our new hiding spot,” her father said, his words so quiet Mar could hardly hear them.

“No, father. We should all go,” Mar replied with a grunt.

The five vampires had now reached the center of the new village. There were no thundering heartbeats around. Mar gasped aloud at this realization. The entire town was abandoned. She had never witnessed a whole village devoid of human life.

Each vampire went a separate way, searching through each house for signs of life. There were none. No signs that this village had ever been inhabited.

There was no longer time to investigate the village; they had to find a hiding place. They chose the church, a building of thick stone and minimal windows, the perfect location to weather the sun's harsh rays.

They all sat once inside, having gathered the furnishings they wanted from other houses.

“This is the perfect place for us to live, with no humans in the village,” Mar's brother said with his signature sneer. “Of course, there will be visitors whom we will welcome with open arms.” His greedy smile showed the lust in his eyes, the craving for the warmth that flows under our skin after drinking from humans. Mar smiled back, fully agreeing to his plan. They would stay in the empty village and feast on the humans that came to pass.

The sun rose and fell again under the moon's might as the vampire family emerged from their stone church, each wearing an enthralling grin. They roamed the village's edges, crafting plans for their new venture.

Mar sensed a faint heartbeat while setting up her makeshift inn at the village's main crossroads. Her ears perked up in alarm. The heartbeat was already in the town.

She followed the faint thumping to the middle of the village, where a small makeshift shed stood, its wood panels rotting and caving in on itself.

Instinctively, she hunched closer to the ground and bared her fangs. This was where the heartbeat was coming from, still faint and unmoving. Mar was sure this was a survivor of whatever had happened here. It would be their first victim.

She circled the shed, still low, and hissed aloud, trying to scare the human out, hoping to make them run so she could give chase. However, the heartbeat remained unchanged, still that same faint, steady beat. Perhaps they were deaf and couldn't hear the danger outside.

Mar crashed through the shed door, her angry yowl piercing the air. Inside the shed, there was nothing. Mar stood in an empty building. Anger flared through her, and she kicked the rotting panels down. She was destroying the shed, venting her frustration. The heartbeat was gone.

Across the village, another scream tore through the air. Mar ran toward it, her bare feet hitting the packed ground hard with each step. Miatis was standing amidst the ruins of a building. They locked eyes, and without a word, they followed the faint heartbeat coming from another direction.

Together, the two vampires followed the heartbeat to new buildings and destroyed them in anger when no heart greeted them. Their rage grew with each failed hunt.

The building surrounding them was in ruins at their last stop, but the heartbeat didn't vanish, instead morphing into laughter. The laughter grew louder and swirled around the two vampires. Mar felt a vice grip her ribs. What was this unfamiliar feeling? Was it fear?

“I have followed you,” a voice sang through the laughter. “I have found you. Finally.”

Mar instantly bolted for the church, Miatis close behind her. When they reached the churchyard, they stopped. Sitting in front of the large wooden door was a cat. It purred and licked the sleek black fur on the back of its paw.

It looked into Mar’s eyes. “I have found you.” The voice sang from behind her. She turned in its direction, but nothing was there.

“What do we do?” she asked her mother, still looking at the cat. Miatis instantly vaulted over the cat into the church, and Mar watched as the cat lazily lifted its paw and let its claws drag across her mother's heel. Miatis didn't notice the wound or feel the slow leak of congealed blood seeping through it.

The cat looked at Mar, but she decided to back away. To run. The laughter circled her, the sound making her dizzy. She gripped her temples, trying to push it out.

A blood-curdling scream rents through the night air. Miatis. Without thinking, Mar ran toward her mother. She slipped past the cat without a scratch. But she halted once in the room. Her father had transformed into stone, his mouth closed. No way to feed him blood, no way to bring him back.

Miatis was still screaming, crumpled over the form of one of her brothers. Scratches gaped open on his face and arms. The blood was black and dried. He had lost all his blood and had not turned to stone.

“We followed you, vampire,” the voice rang above them, and the laughter ceased.

Mar looked around. Where was her other brother?

The air was eerily quiet as the two vampires huddled together, clasping hands. Miatis was shivering violently as Mar held her hands firmer.

From the doorway beyond, a man walked through, flanked by two black cats. No heartbeat, just a manic grin on pale pink lips.

“Ah, vampire. I meet you at last,” the man spoke through the silence, his breath forming a frigid cloud with each word.

He spread his arms wide, and the cats advanced closer to the two vampires.

“Aren’t you going to run?” He laughed aloud. The sound carried on a breeze and started to encircle Mar again, taunting her. Her mind began to throb.

A cat had walked over to Miatis and was scratching at her leg lazily. Mar watched, horrified, as her mother slowly turned toward her, her movements pained as if she were turning to stone. She gave Mar a slight push and mouthed the word run.

Mar ran. She ran from this hunter and his tribe of black cats. She left behind her family: her father turned to stone with no chance of being brought back, her brother's body mangled and lifeless on the floor, and her mother slowly drained of blood by the wounds left by the cat's scratches.

She was now the hunted and had only one goal: to find her last living brother. He must have run after witnessing the heartless hunters' work himself.

With each step, Mar could feel her feet sinking into the earth. Each step was a reminder that she needed to cover her tracks.

The laughter grew fainter the farther she got from the hunter. She might be safe if she kept the sound at her back. As long as she didn't follow disembodied heartbeats and as long as she stayed away from any cat. She could escape her past mistakes, and she could find her brother. Maybe she could still survive.