Taylor Dusina
Content Warning: death, violence
I ran as fast as I could through the woods, dodging the branches and fallen trees. My steps left marks on the ground, boots sinking into the soft earth, my shirt snagging the brambles. In the distance, their whines drew closer, the call of my name echoing off the trees letting me know they would catch up soon. They were superhuman, strong and fast, with centuries of experience behind them, centuries of power. They could smell me from a mile away, see me through even the darkest night and hear the faint steps of my feet. They were no match for the average human—but luckily for me, I wasn’t the average human.
Crashing through trees, I landed on the ground, scrambling to get up. Ahead of me, in a clearing of trees, was the cabin. I ran towards it. I didn’t have much time left. Soon it would be too late. Inside, the moonlight struggled to reach the corners. The space laid deserted, only a small table and a single chair to greet me, a fireplace filled with burnt wood and glowing embers. Wind rattled the windows, shaking the walls, branches scratching like nails down a chalkboard. Above me, the floorboards creaked, a faint sound of scuttling forcing me to look up. Blood dripped from in between the boards. It hit my nose as it fell, metallic and sour, dropping by my feet. Wiping it away from my face, I rubbed it through my fingertips, noticing its warmth. The victims were fresh. Their attacker was watching me, waiting.
Slowly, I moved around the table, lifting my crossbow as I headed to the stairs. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight, adrenaline flowing. The uneven floorboards shuddered as I walked over them, rats laying lifeless along the edges, snacks before the main meal. Climbing the stairs, I held my weapon at the ready, wooden stake hanging from my belt. The noise grew louder, the air turning to ice until my breath misted in front of me. From the top step, a trail of blood led my way. I followed it to a closed door that I opened slowly, unsure of what would be on the other side. Above everything else was the smell of decay, bodies left rotting after they had been used. No dignity, no respect. Piled in a heap, they were forgotten, naked and discarded like trash. Rolling them over with my boot, I held my breath, waiting for the face I had been looking for. He wasn’t here.
As I walked further into the room, I readied myself for an attack. A small window towards the back of the room was boarded up, faint moonlight slipping through the wooden slats until it cast light upon a figure. Blue eyes shone through the darkness, remorseful and begging, the figure’s hands tied together and his body suspended from the ceiling.
‘Vincent.’
Dropping my crossbow, I lifted his head, which was saggy and limp, eyes glassy yet still aware. His skin was pallid, cold to my touch as though what was left of his life was slipping. Searching his body, I feared the worst. Blood dripped from the two dots forced into his neck. Marks of the vampire.
Pressing my hand to his chest, I felt for any indication that he was still human, finding a steady heartbeat. When I released him from his ties, he fell to a lump on the floor, weak and struggling to stand. He looked at me, barely able to focus—but it was enough for me to see two yellow slits reflected in his eyes.
The room instantly went cold, thin sheets of ice cracking across the floor and shadowing slowly up the walls. Turning around, I grabbed a stake, eyeing the vampire. He was ugly and scarred, a long nose bent out of shape and skin whiter than paper. When I kicked at his chest, he moved back as he had known the kick was coming before shoving me away. I flew backwards across the floor and into a mirror where it smashed upon my impact, sending shards of glass flying across the room. Pain was overwhelming but I wouldn’t let it show. I knew better than that.
When I got back up, my body shook. Blood soaked through the back of my shirt, shards of glass stuck in my skin. The vampire grabbed Vincent, holding him by his hair, and rolled his neck to one side to expose the bloody marks of his bite. A wicked shriek filled the air, the vampire showing his fangs like a snarling dog—this time, he was moving in for the kill.
Lunging forward, I screamed, feeling the power behind my step. The vampire pushed me away expecting me to fall, but we crashed to the ground together. We interlocked, struggling against each other, both trying to gain our grips, as we rolled across the floor and out of the room. We tumbled down the stairs, his body and mine tangled together in some sort of unbreakable bond until we broke apart by the bottom step. Rolling backwards, my back hit the wall so hard the plaster cracked. A high-pitched whistle rang in my ears. It was the vampire laughing, his victory within reach.
He drew closer, hungry eyes seeking the blood that ran in my veins while I struggled against the ground. The stake was beside me, only a hand out of my reach, but I couldn’t move. The vampire had the upper hand and he knew it. His eyes rolled shut, nostrils flaring as the smell of me reached down into him. His fangs sharpened, hunger practically dripping from their points. I wondered if he could hear my heart beating, taste the warmth of my blood even before biting down.
He advanced, long fingers wrapping around my throat and nails pressing into my skin while he lifted me into the air. His touch was icy as he pinned me to the wall, my legs dangling above the ground, scrabbling for a foothold. My vision started to blur, life being sucked from me. But I knew he wouldn’t let me lose my breath. I would be no use to him then.
His hand released and I fell to the floor, expecting to feel his weight over the top of me. Colour came back and I could breathe again, feeling the heavy beat of my heart. Through dim light, I opened my eyes. The vampire clutched at his chest as he fell to his knees, long fingernails clawing at the thing that was stuck in him. Weight pressed over me as his body fell forward, light, as though a thick blanket had fallen on top of me instead. Sticking out of his back, right through his heart, was a splintered stake.
Shadowing above us, Vincent bared his fangs for me to see.
I’m Taylor Dusina (she/her), a Meanjin-based (Brisbane) writer in my final year at uni. My writing style centres around a mix of romance and fantasy, with twists that readers won’t see coming. Currently, I’m working on a fantasy novel centred around vampires and worldbuilding. I aspire to be a published author someday, sharing my writing and being recognised for something I love.
@taylorjanewrites
Inspired by childhood classics such as Shirley Barber, Monster High Dolls, and Sailor Moon, Erin McKenna (she/her) aims to create whimsical, ethereal, and uncanny contemporary artwork. She mainly works in a digital space and discusses her personal experiences with mental and physical health, sexuality and liberation, and her relationship with her body.
Instagram: @erinxisobel