Maybe.

Maybe not.

I do not know. I am so confused.

On the one hand I ask myself, 'Is what I did right?'

On the other hand I counter with, 'Have I betrayed who I really am because of what I have done?'

Am I unworthy?

I was trained to hunt vampires; I had begged my father to teach me how to kill the monsters that had already taken my younger brother and mother's lives. With great reluctance he finally consented and I threw myself into training with all my heart. I wanted nothing more than to become one of the greatest hunter's known. Every aspect I studied; from disguising oneself to pass unnoticed amongst the fiends to killing them using my bare hands if it ever came down to it. The men all muttered; it was improper that a woman should be fighting. I was expected to marry, have and raise children, care for the home.

I was thankful that my father was more liberal-minded.

Soon came the day when I was allowed to accompany my father and the men on a patrol around the village. There were five of us; we left before dawn on horses, riding the well-worn path that led deep into the forest. I had with me my halberd, sharpened to a fine razor point and throwing daggers strapped across my belt. A little after dawn, when the sun had barely cleared the horizon, bathing everything in a light shade of orange, and with the scent of pine needles filling the air, we came across our first vampire.

It was massive, easily taller than Gunther and wider than Lukan. I like to think that when it saw us bursting forth from the forest, trepidation and fear must have filled its black heart, if vampires have such things. My father was in the lead, his spear pointed towards the vampire's chest. The thing lunged backwards that I had thought possible; my father overshot his mark. Before he could wheel the horse around the vampire was already attacking him, those sharp talons cutting deep into the hindquarters of his horse and bringing the animal to the ground.

My father is a strong man; I have seen him lift three times his own weight when he use to work in the fields and he has endurance that can rival that of a dragon. When I looked at him I felt I was looking at a pillar of strength, someone to hold to if life should become easy. My father always managed to pull through the worse and I wished to emulate him in every way. It was the first time I saw fear, true fear in my parent's eyes as the vampire leapt at him, the monster's fangs bared and a hiss rising from its throat. The thing tore into my father like a ravenous dog; it did not even give my parent a fighting chance. Before my father's hand had pulled his scythe from his belt, he was dead.

His hands, which had been holding tightly to the hilt of his hand-held scythe, went slack. They dropped lifelessly to the ground, stained with his own blood. Somebody was screaming at the vampire as it crouched over my father's body, trying to feed off of the blood and at the same time watch us remaining four circle it.

Only later did I realize that it was my voice that filled the air.

Gunther, impulsive and enraged, was the first to strike out. His broadsword cut through the air as he spurred his horse on; the vampire nimbly ducked to the side despite its massive bulk and retaliated instantly. It grabbed Gunther by his leg and pulled him from the saddle; before that mighty warrior could draw another battle cry from his throat the vampire had broken his neck and tossed him to the ground. Lukan was Gunther's brother; while his sibling had been impulsive and rash, Lukan had always been calm and methodical. But not now, not now.

He dismounted quickly from his steed and slung the flamethrower he had over his shoulder into his hands. The vampire growled warily and backed up. Paul, who had circled behind the monster, took out a small throwing dagger, ready to embed the blade into the back on the vampire's neck and give it a final death. Then I noticed the shift in the being's eyes; before I could yell out a warning to Lukan I knew it was too late.

Lukan pressed down on the trigger; a tongue of flame licked through the air towards the vampire. Paul raised his blade, ready to release it at its arc. Once again the vampire jumped to the side with unnatural speed; the deadly fire passed the monster and instead touched Paul. As he was enveloped by the flames, his horse rearing backwards with its iron-shod hooves pawing the air, Lukan could only drop his flamethrower in shock. Screaming over the flames Paul collapsed onto the ground, beating at himself even as the fire consumed him. Soon his shrieks died altogether, and that was when the vampire struck at Lukan.

He even made less of a whimper than Paul as his heart was torn cleanly from his chest. Dropping the still-beating organ from its stained talons, the vampire turned its gaze towards me.

My horse was unnerved; the animal stamped its feet nervously on the ground as it rolled its eyes into the back of its head. The vampire advanced upon me slowly, spreading its talons wide.

"And you are the last," it uttered in a deep voice. I did not know that the monsters were capable of speech; I gripped my halberd tighter than ever, imagining that my hand must already be bloodless inside the leather glove. "No one to turn to. So young and so inexperienced. What can you do, mortal? What can you do?"

As the vampire closed the distance between us, my horse suddenly bucked, throwing me off and onto the ground. Neighing shrilling the animal disappeared into the forest, seeking the safety of the trees and bushes than staying out in the open.

The wind was knocked out from me; purple and yellow spots danced in my vision. My grip on my weapon loosened but I could still feel it in my hands. Then the training that my father drilled into me kicked in; the panic inside of me vanished as burning rage and a desire for revenge consumed me. I would not die like everyone else; I would live. I would avenge my father this day!

Pushing backwards, I kicked myself up at the exact same time the vampire appeared over me. My booted feet hit the being, dripping with gore, right in the chin and knocked it backwards for a few moments. I darted away a bit, placing a safe distance between us two in case the vampire should strike out. Crouching low, I held the halberd out in front of me, the razor edge a little above the ground.

The sun had risen fully above the horizon now. In my chest, a faint spark of hope ignited. Perhaps if the sun's pure rays touched the skin of this diseased corpse then the vampire would burn. Then it chuckled and made a dismissive gesture towards the burning ball of light.

"You actually think that will harm me? I am far more powerful than some weak fledgling. The sun shall not touch me," it rumbled.

"Fuck you!" I screamed viciously, cutting the air with the halberd. "Come and face me, you cowardly being if you have any sense of honour whatsoever! I can take you on!" Red clouded my vision; my heart beat wildly and without rhythm. My breaths came in short, quick gasps. I did not wait for the vampire to attack. I would make the first move. Screaming incoherently and driven on by pure, unabated fury I rushed the vampire, my halberd in front of me. The vampire ducked under the first swing; I reversed the stroke and made a cut towards its legs. The thing jumped back and kicked out with one cloven foot. Blocking the blow, the strength behind the kick jarring my grip on the weapon I lunged forwards clumsily. With a snort of amusement the vampire stepped out of the way and kicked me in the left knee.

I went down, pain flaring along my leg. My weapon flew from my grasp, spinning away from me into the dirt and stopping beside Gunther's corpse.

"I must say you are quite the fighter. Alone, a weak and pathetic fool like you will still fight on. Your strength is notable, and perhaps given a few more years you would actual manage to beat me," the vampire spoke in a condescending voice as a talon descended over me. Roughly pulling my up by my short hair, I came face to face with the fiend, dangling above the ground by a few feet. The nauseating stench of blood washed out over me, making my eyes water and my nose curl in disgust. A vampire's fangs are terribly sharp and seeing this ones incisors up close, I could not argue that point. Its eyes burned with a red fire; like the fires of Hell I imagined.

"Too bad that you will end up like the others; rotting bodies on the ground to be picked clean by the crows and vultures." It flexed its other hand; I could see the talons glistening out of the corner of my eyes.

"How true," I spat through gritted teeth. My hand closed over one of the daggers on my belt. "For you!" Sliding the blade free from its strap, I flipped the dagger over in my hand and drove the iron blade deep into the vampire's neck. Blood, thick and black, gushed over my leather gloves and down my arm. The vampire let go of me, pawing at its neck as gurgling sounds filled its ruined mouth. Pain blazed in those eyes, pain that it deserved. My eyes were wide; madness must have overtaken me at that moment and rationality far from my mind. I hung onto the blade as I pressed it in deeper, feeling for the windpipe. With a backhand swipe the vampire knocked me to the ground, vainly trying to pull free the dagger I had lodged into it. Before it could do that I drove another dagger into its chest where the heart should be, and then another deep into the left shoulder, hearing the collarbone crack.

A gurgling, aggrieved howl rose in the vampire's throat, but it could not burst forth from its mouth, which was already filling with blood. As it stumbled away from me I dashed towards my halberd, picking it up. The blade glittered menacingly in the rising sun, and I saw with satisfaction fear in the vampire's eyes.

"DIE!" I screamed, bringing the blade down with all the force in my body. Slicing easily through the flesh, my weapon separated the vampire's head from its body in one clean swipe. While the head rolled onto the ground, the body stood there twitching for a few moments, unsure of what to do. Then it followed the head to the ground with a anti-climatically crash.

Heaving, panting with the exertion, I realized just how quickly the duel had begun and ended. Blood streaked my leather jerkin and trousers; my hands and face were encrusted with gore and my hair matted together with the sticky substance. Soon my hold body was shaking and I dropped my staff, understanding for the first time what I had truly done. At the cost of my father and three other men, I had managed to bring down a vampire…but at a price.

The world reeled and I stumbled away from the vampire's corpse towards that of my father. Dropping to my knees, my body was wracked with nausea as I became sick. When I was finished, only the bitter aftertaste was left in my mouth. I looked upon the face of my father; his features had been frozen into a mask of bitter hatred. My grey eyes travelled downwards to the small scythe he held in his hands. It would be mine now, something to remember my father by.

I did not cry.

I would not cry. That was something that only weaklings and children did. I took the scythe from my father and cradled in close to me. "You would be proud," I muttered. "I managed to kill that monster, but at the price of 4 men. How will the village understand this?"

Rustling in the trees made me whirl around, the scythe raised and ready. The battle lust still flowed through my body and I felt ready to fight anything. Let whatever is in that forest come, I thought darkly, and I will kill it, kill the vampire and enjoy its screams of pain. The branches of a birch tree swayed and a figure stepped out onto the forest path where the battle had been fought. The being's back was to me; unnoticed I crouched beside my father's corpse and unnoticed I watched, still tense and ready to fight. A small cry came from the mysterious figure and it rushed over to the fallen vampire. And that was when I saw the cloven feet, the sharp talons, and the pointed ears of the being.

Another vampire. It was smaller and slighter of built than that of the one I had just killed, but that did not matter. I would destroy it all the same. My eyes narrowed; the scythe was raised slowly. Then I was stopped by the words the smaller vampire spoke.

"Father, father!!!!" The vampire grasped the daggers of the fallen vampire, ripping them from the flesh and throwing them away. "Father! Who did this to you? Who did this to you?!" A large wail filled the air and the vampire raised its talons towards the sky, crying desperately. The monster continued on in this fashion, mourning the death of its father – if beings had such families as I once had – then suddenly stopped. Its raised arms dropped back to its sides and the monster turned to look at the carnage wrought behind it, the destruction it had not seen before.

Then it saw me.

Crouched beside my own father, covered in blood, my face as haggard and as pained as my own, it understood.

And I, in turn, understood the pain that this vampire was feeling; pain that I would never be able to express. We continued to look at each other, not speaking. A slight wind began to kick up, blowing dust and dead leaves over the ground. The scythe in my hand did not waver, yet I did not lash out. The vampire's red eyes were filling with tears…they could feel emotions?

How can that be, I wondered.

They are monsters, and monsters who kill humans for no reason have no emotions.

I lowered the scythe and slowly stood. The vampire watched me warily, blocking its parent's body with that of its own. I just stood there and watched the fiend with dead eyes, my blood-matted hair falling over my eyes. It seemed to understand finally, understand what I could not say. Grasping its father in both arms, the younger vampire picked up the body and not looking back, headed into the forest. I turned and began to walk back towards the village, a long walk through a dark forest.

And so I ask myself: by sparing that vampire's life, one who has now lost its family as I have, is what I did right? Or have I lost the right to call myself a vampire hunter and a human by letting one of them live?

Maybe it is just one of those things that will never be answered.