Anne exited the changing room in her fresh, clean clothes given to her by Haditha. She already did not like having the tan shirt paired with brown trousers. It was the most basic and unappealing of color combinations. Whatever the material they were made from was, it was uncomfortable. But she really should not look a gift horse in the mouth and count her blessings that someone even considered giving her clean clothes. Besides, when she gets her school uniform washed and patched up, she can return them.

"Haditha informed me that you were awake." A voice spoke. It was one Anne did not know but recognized at the same time. She guessed it was from when she was out cold — standing before Anne were two adults, one a man and the other a woman.

The woman had dark skin with long brown hair and warm hazelnut eyes. She was garbed in a forest green tunic with a white undershirt and black leggings with knee-high boots of the same color. Holding her uniform together was a thick belt and hanging from that belt was a sheathed longsword.

The man was pale skinned with black hair that looked like a dark turquoise in a certain light, with a beard of the same color. He also had one eye that was permanently closed. He wore a flat broad-brimmed hat, torn black trousers, and an open indigo vest with a red scarf and boots with his toes exposed.

"Ye feelin' alright, lass?" The man spoke, and Anne recognized his voice. It was the one she heard the longest during her time unconscious.

"You must be, Wally?" Anne guessed.

"Right-o." The man bowed. "Wallace Hamilton's my name. But the folks call me "One-Eyed Wally," for obvious reasons."

Anne turned to the woman next. "So, you must be the Head Woman?"

"I am Greta, yes." She answered. "And I suppose you know why we're here."

"Haditha told me you wanted to talk."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but Danesti is a village secluded from large parts of society."

"We're a humble village and proud," Wally added.

"Yes." Greta nodded. "But being a humble village comes with risks. We are more vulnerable to attacks from the likes of bandits and far worse."

Anne blinked, wondering what she was talking about at first. Then it hit her. "Wait, do you think I'm dangerous?" Anne was sure she had to be joking; there was no way she could be considered dangerous.

"I need you to understand this village and its people are under my protection. As far as I'm concerned, every man, woman, and child that lives here is like family to me." Greta gave the teenager a dark look. "And make no mistake, I'll go to any fucking length to protect my family." Anne took a step back, intimidated by the woman. Even Wally backed away from her. "Tell me you understand."

Anne nodded slowly. "Okay, I understand."

"Good." Greta looked over at the empty bed. "You may want to sit; we may be talking for a while."

"Yes, ma'am." Anne did not even ponder the thought; she just did as she was told.

Greta pulled up a chair and sat across from her. "First, tell me your name."

"My name's Anne Boonchuy."

"Boonchuy?" Greta looked at her curiously. "That's not a Wallachian name."

"It's Thai."

"So, you come from the East?"

"No. Well, my grandparents on my mom's side did… but my mom and dad—"

"This's a simple "yes" or "no" question."

"I know that. It's just… if I told you the whole story, you'd think I'm crazy." Anne rubbed her throat. "And probably kill me."

"The whole world's gone mad in the last year or so. I've seen things that made me question whether the All-Mighty really does know what he is doing." Greta's look became kinder than before, understanding. "Believe me when I tell you that nothing will sound out of the realm of possibility."

Anne did believe her. Greta was an honest woman. "Okay." Anne breathed in and out. "I was born in Los Angeles, California. In America."

Greta leaned back. "I've never heard of this America."

"It probably doesn't exist here. Or… has yet to exist here." Anne coughed. "Anyway, yesterday was my birthday. And I was celebrating it with my friends, Sasha and Marcy. When we all met up, Marcy looked super bummed out about something. Then the next thing I know, a portal opens and sucks us all in. I landed in the middle of the woods and kept walking until Wally found me."

Greta said nothing for a minute straight, and Anne grew more worried about her safety. "I am not sure if I fully believe your story about this ''America" or ''portal" as you said. But you have not said anything that makes me you believe you're a threat, either."

Anne blinked. "Really?"

Greta nodded. "You're welcomed to stay here in Danesti."

"That's a relief," Wally said. "I was afraid we were gonna turn her away."

Greta looked at Wally. "As long as she respects the rules of our community, she may have a home here for as long as she needs."

"Thank you, Miss Greta," Anne said, feeling confident in standing. "I gotta find my friends, then a way home." Her confidence lowered upon mentioning her two tasks aloud, knowing they would be easier said than done.

Greta stood up next, followed by Wally. "Then come, Anne. Let's introduce you to the rest of our village." Anne nodded and followed the two adults, accepting this would be her home for a while.


Hurting. Everything's hurting. Marcy slowly opened her eyes, only for a bright light to shine on her face. What is that?! She forced them to shut and tried to get up. Why can't I feel my left arm? She forced herself into a sitting position, using all the strength she could muster in her good arm. Okay, I'm starting to wish I took gym more seriously. Sitting up, Marcy opened her eyes fully and was somewhere different than she remembered last. She was in a wagon.

She was sitting on a splintery surface with a cover above them, and the sun was shining brightly through the only opening. What am I doing in a wagon? She looked over at her left arm and found that it was tightly bandaged. Did I break my arm? The last thing she remembered was fighting off the Hellbats and getting knocked aside by the huge one. Marcy then heard a loud sound, like a growl, behind her. She slowly looked back and blinked to see it was a snoring Trevor Belmont. "Mr. Belmont." Marcy turned around and walked over to him on her knees. "Mr. Belmont." She nudged his shoulder, and he shot up, startling her. "Ah!"

"Awake. I'm awake." Trevor Belmont said the opposite of that. He looked over at Marcy. "Oh, it's just you." He massaged his eyes with his index and thumb.

"What happened last night?" Marcy asked him. "And where are we?"

"Is everything okay back there?" A friendly-sounding voice asked from outside the wagon, sounding like it was a man to Marcy.

"We're fine, just woke up." Trevor Belmont answered.

The voice's owner revealed himself from the wagon's only opening: a dark-skinned man with brown hair and blue eyes with a large beard and a bald head. "Just in time, too. My husband finished making breakfast."

Trevor Belmont grinned. "Well, I'm not turning that down. Scuse me, kid." He crawled past Marcy on all fours and slid out of the tent. He looked back at me. "Are you coming or what?"

Marcy then felt her stomach growl. Some food does sound good right about now, and it does smell delicious from here. "Gimme a sec." Marcy eased her way to the opening on her knees, taking extra care not to give herself a splinter. Once close enough, Trevor helped her out. "There we go." Marcy's feet connected to the ground, and she stepped forward in reaction.

"Hi." A squeaky voice greeted. Marcy saw it came from a little girl, no older than seven, at Marcy's guess. She was short with light skin and adorably plump with big green eyes and puffy dark hair. And she wore an equally endearing, though ragged, green dress. Oh my god, she's precious.

"We're glad to see you're alright." Said the man next to the little girl, who shared similar physical features to her. Though his body was leaner, and his eyes were blue. "My name is Ewan." He looked at the little girl. "This is our daughter, Willow." Then looked to the friendly man who greeted them in the cart. "And this is Gilbert."

"Come get it while it's hot," Gilbert said. He placed what looked to be a medieval frying pan filled with scrambled eggs down onto a flat stone surface, pulling nearby strands of grass away from it. Smart. The last thing we need is a forest fire. He filled up five wooden bowls with two-pronged forks.

"Thank you so much," Marcy said as she joined the group. She sat on the grass with her bowl in front of her, legs crossed. "I'm Marcy."

Trevor Belmont grabbed his bowl and began digging in. "Oh, won't you say grace to us?" Gilbert asked as he handed two bowls to his husband and daughter. "We always do this before starting a meal."

Trevor gulped down what was in his mouth and let out a huff. "Sorry, but God and I aren't exactly on speaking terms."

"I'm sorry to hear that." The family gathered around and held their hands.

Ewan looked at Marcy. "Would you like to join us?" He asked.

"Oh, uh… I guess." Marcy slowly stood, taking care not to spill her food accidentally. Once on her feet, she joined the family. For some odd reason, I can feel Mr. Belmont rolling his eyes at me. Marcy and her family were not particularly religious, but they did believe in a God that did watch over them.

"Who would like to speak?"

"Lord, we thank you for the food we are about to eat." Their daughter spoke. "We know not everybody has what we have, and we thank you for all you have given us. We pray for the poor and hungry. Please be with them. In the name of Jesus, we pray. Amen."

"Amen." They all spoke together.

That actually felt nice. Marcy went back to where she left her food and finally dug in. Wow, these are good eggs.

"I'm surprised you actually pray to Him," Trevor said, honest in his tone. "Doesn't he condemn what you have?"

"The Church does. Not God." Gilbert answered. "They place blame on everyone else for the evil that plagues the land. This is our punishment for what happened at Targoviste. What we allowed to happen."

Trevor stopped eating his eggs. "You were there at Targoviste?"

Targoviste? That sounds really important. Marcy swallowed the food in her mouth. "What happened at Targoviste?"

Trevor Belmont let out a small, dark chuckle. "Nothing much. Just the biggest fucking mistake in all of human history."

Ewan gasped and quickly covered his daughter's ears. "Kind sir, could you please not use such profanity in front of our child."

"What does that word mean?" Willow asked.

"Nothing, sweety. But don't ever say it." Ewan raised a finger at her. "It's a bad one."

The girl gasped and covered her mouth. So cute.

"Okay, but can someone explain to me what happened there?"

"You really don't know?" Gilbert asked, surprised.

"She's not from around these parts." Trevor Belmont explained.

"Then you're lucky to have not witnessed the horrors we did. It was about two years ago—"


Gilbert, Ewan, and Willow made their home Targoviste. But they had to hide their relationship from the constantly vigilant Church, looking for sinners and heretics to bring to "justice." When out in public, Gilbert was Willow's uncle and Ewan's brother-in-law. But one day, Willow got sick, and everything they tried did not work. As they grew desperate, they began hearing rumors of a woman in the village of Lupu just outside the city who had the power to cure any ailment. The loving fathers traveled discreetly and met the woman, Lisa Tepes.

"Here," Lisa said as she finished brewing a mix of herbs and pouring the yellow liquid into a vial. "Have her drink this twice a day, and within three days, she will be back to how she was."

"Bless you," Gilbert said, clenching her hands. "Words cannot express how grateful we are."

Ewan pulled out a pouch of silver. "Please, take this." He spoke. "It's the least we can offer for all you've done."

"I can't." Lisa declined. "You all need that more than I do." She looked down at Willow. "And seeing her healthy and happy is payment enough."

Gilbert and Ewan gave Willow the concoction twice a day as instructed. Within three days, she was out playing with the children again. But the happiest day of their lives also became the most horrifying. While out playing, Willow noticed a gathering of people with pitchforks and torches. Gilbert and Ewan picked her up and followed to see what was going on, and that is when they saw and heard what they wished they could forget.

"This woman stands accused of committing witchcraft in the village of Lupu!" The Bishop of Targoviste declared to the crowd, gesturing towards the accused woman, Lisa. "My knights have broken into her home and seen it filled with gifts she could have only gotten from Satan! And I have seen them myself, too! She has swindled the innocent into believing she had the power to heal! But only those who believe in God have such power! Her acts spit in the eye of the All-Mighty! She calls it science, but all that word is just that, a word! A word of a madwoman who lost God's grace! And for that, she shall suffer a befitting punishment!"

"Yeah!" "Burn the witch!" "Send her back to Hell!" The crowd cheered for the woman's death, the same group she had dedicated her life to saving.

"Daddy, what's going on?" Willow asked Gilbert, scared from all the noise.

Gilbert recoiled, looking around to make sure no one heard her. "This isn't right. She has done nothing wrong." He wanted to march to the bishop and tell him he had made a mistake. But Ewan stopped him, shaking his head, knowing doing so would put them all in danger. And the part Gilbert hated to admit, his husband was right.

"Don't hurt them!" Lisa cried out to the sky as knights and city folk began igniting the stake she was tied to. "They don't understand! Have mercy on their souls!"

"Behold!" The bishop shouted. "She is exhorting Satan not to take his revenge on us! She believes this will save her soul but only confirms what we've already known." The crowd ate it up, roaring louder for her demise.

"I have faith in you!" Lisa cried. "Be a better man!" And with that, the fire consumed her. Gilbert and Ewan shielded their daughters' eyes from the brutality while the crowd cheered. Murderers. All of these people have been made murderers.

"And thus, God's work has been done." The bishop said as he and several of his knights walked away from the flames.

"Blessed be our saviors!" "True servants of the Lord!" "The most Holy!" The crowd cheered for them, making Ewan and Gilbert sick to their stomachs.

But then, the fire that burned innocent Lisa Tepes exploded, causing the crowd to panic and the bishop to turn around. The fire grew wilder, reducing the stone streets to ash. Then it began taking shape. First, a skull; then an angular face with eyes of red that burned as hot as Hell itself.

"What have you done?!" The flaming face questioned. The crowd was stunned, immobilized with fear, only able to watch in horror. "What have you done to my wife?!"

"The Devil reveals himself!" The bishop declared, holding out a cross with a trembling hand.

"No! I am Vlad Dracula Tepes! And you will tell me what you have done to my wife! Lisa Tepes was a woman of science! And the one thing to help me tolerate humanity's existence in this world!"

"You are not real! Dracula is fiction! A justification for practicing black magic!"

"You take my wife; then you deny my existence?!"

"Daddy!" Willow cried into Gilbert's arms as he and Ewan tried to calm her.

"It's okay, Willow." "We're here." They both said, trying to be brave for their little girl.

"Hear me, people of Wallachia! I give you one year to make peace with your God! One year until I wipe you all out! You've taken away what I love! So, I will take away everything you've ever been and ever will be! One year!"

The flames expanded in one last burst. Glass from nearby buildings shattered. The people finally scattered, trying to avoid being cut. Fire rained from the sky and set homes on fire. It was like the end of the world before their eyes. And just as quickly as the fires of Hell came, they vanished. All that was left behind was the charred skeleton of Lisa Tepes.

One year had passed. But no one heeded the warning…

Instead… they celebrated…

As declared by the Archbishop of Targoviste, Lisa Tepes' day of death was made a holiday. A disgusting holiday from an appalling crime. The archbishop himself decided to grace the public with his presence that day, with words to declare. "For twenty years, have I served you, and God, as the archbishop to Targoviste Cathedral!" He proudly proclaimed to the crowd before him. "Yet, never before, have I felt the love of God shine so brightly upon this great city! A little more than one year ago, many of us suffered a vision! During a God-given punishment of a witch! The Devil himself came to us and threatened us all with doom in one year! Yet here we are!"

Clouds began forming over the city, but no one except Gilbert and Ewan noticed, with Willow asleep in the arms of the latter. The rest of the people were still entranced with the archbishop's words. "The Devil lied! Why should we be surprised?! Do we not know the Devil for a liar?! Do we not know his works to be illusions?! Of course, we do?! Illusions and falsehoods hold no fear for us! For we are the righteous people of Targoviste! Living, as if cradled by the love of God!"

Raindrops fell from the sky — the first one landing on the archbishop before moving to the rest of the people. A raindrop landed on Gilbert's face, and it felt… warm. Ewan gasped in horror as Gilbert reluctantly touched the drop with his fingers. It was not a drop of rain; it was a drop of blood. Fresh blood.

Then some things fell from the sky, splattering onto the sidewalks and the roofs. One of the things landed right before Ewan's and Gilbert's feet. It was a severed arm. Limbs were raining down from the sky. "Oh my God!" "What is happening!" "Jesus Christ!" The people began shouting in fear. A scalped head then landed right next to the severed arm. The face was that of one of the bishop's holy knights. One of the same ones who raided the home of Lisa Tepes and tied her to the stake.

"Ewan, we have to run!" Gilbert told his husband. "Dracula is coming!"

The ground began the rumble, and cracks formed within the earth before the Church behind the archbishop exploded into flames. It consumed him and his followers the same way Lisa Tepes was. And just like that horrible night, the face of Vlad Dracula Tepes took shape. "People of Wallachia, I gave you one year to make peace with your God! And what do you do? You celebrate the death of my beloved! Now, you shall all face the wrath of Hell itself! You had your chance."

The flames dispersed and, in their place, stood a castle taller than any building imaginable. From it, shadows exited. From it, death exited — legions of demons. Large and small, four-legged and two-legged, flyers and land crawlers. Abominations that not even the most disturbed mind could conjure have come for the people of Targoviste. The City of Murderers.

A giant bat demon swooped down from the sky and grabbed a poor woman by her lower jaw before flying away with her. The woman's scream was muffled by its claws and was silenced as others came to rip her in half — her intestine splattering onto the streets as the people tried to flee. A screaming man was pounced by a wolf-like demon who ripped his head off with a pair of powerful jaws.

With Willow in his arms, Ewan ran with his husband to get away from the carnage. "Mommy!" A child cried, standing before his ripped apart mother. Gilbert wanted to grab him but could only watch in horror as the demons reached the child first. And the cries were replaced with bloody gurgles.

The bat demons breathed fire on the citizens. Ghosts that gave off a chilling presence froze those who attempted to run in place before little green creatures smashed them to bits. Ewan and Gilbert continued running amongst the massacres. "Help me!" Someone cried out before their tongue was ripped out and devoured by a bat.

The husbands heard neighing and realized there was a horse within an open stable. Their way out. Ewan and Gilbert ran towards and mounted the horse as quickly as they could. Gilbert cracked the reins and the horse bolted from the chaos. The streets of Targoviste flowed like a river of blood, guts, and body parts. Willow was still asleep, fortunate to not have to bear witness to any of this. And so, they rode as fast and as far as the horse could carry them; out of Targoviste and the surrounding villages.

The shrieks of bats could be heard from behind them, and they looked back to see a swarm of them gather in the sky. Once more, the face of Vlad Dracula Tepes took shape. "Hear me! My Children of Hell! Kill them all! Targoviste has been made into a graveyard! Avenging my love! Now, go forth into the country! Go forth now! Go to all the cities of Wallachia! Go now! Kill! Kill! Kill for my love! Kill for the only true love I ever knew! Kill for the endless lifetime of hate before me."

The bats dispersed as Ewan and Gilbert kept on riding. They had to get as far away as they could. They did not look back even once. Not a single glance back to the City of Murderers.


Oh my God. Marcy was shaken, having difficulty processing the dark tale she was told. Of the evils that humankind was capable of and the destruction wrought upon the innocent because of it. For a moment, she thought she was going to hurl her breakfast.

"You're not made for this life, kid." Trevor Belmont commented to Marcy.

"Mr. Belmont," Ewan spoke. "You should know that Gilbert and I pondered your offer last night."

"And I'm afraid we can't take her with us," Gilbert concluded.

Take me with them? Marcy looked over at the monster hunter. "What are they talking about?"

Trevor sighed. "When I came across their wagon carrying your unconscious ass, they offered to patch up your arm. They didn't have to, but they did anyway."

"And, fortunately, it was a clean break, too," Ewan added.

"So, I figured you'd be better off if I left you with them," Trevor concluded.

Marcy looked at Trevor Belmont, feeling betrayed, despite not knowing him that long. "So, you were just gonna leave me without explanation?"

"Pretty much. They're better people than me, that's for sure."

"Mr. Belmont, do understand we would welcome her to our family," Gilbert said, then looking at Willow. She was still eating, not paying attention to the conversation. "But we have her safety to worry about, first." He looked back at Trevor. "However, if you are looking for someone to take her in and keep her safe, then I would suggest heading to Gresit."

"And who exactly would we be finding in Gresit?"

"There's a rumor going around about a clan who refer to themselves as Speakers are currently staying there."

"Speakers?" Trevor rubbed his chin, pondering the idea.

"Who are these Speakers?" Marcy asked.

"A nomadic lot who gather knowledge, memorize it, carry complete spoken histories with them. They also gather hidden knowledge only very few would know about, the magical kind."

"That sounds awesome," Marcy said with excitement.

"And you'd have an easier time searching for your friends with them."

Marcy blinked. Oh, man. I got so wrapped up in everything here that I completely forgot that Anne and Sasha are still out there. Marcy looked at Trevor. "Then, I guess we're going to Gresit."

"Then, let's get moving." Trevor Belmont headed over to the wagon, grabbing his sword and whip from them.

"I guess this is goodbye," Marcy told Ewan, Gilbert, and Willow. "Thank you for the meal and the help."

"Good luck to you both," Ewan said.

"Bye." Willow waved. So cute.

"Better keep up!" Trevor Belmont shouted, walking ahead through the woods. "I'm not slowing down for you!"

"Hey!" Marcy shouted, hopping to her feet and giving chase to the rude monster hunter. "You really gotta work on your manners."

Trevor Belmont looked at the girl as if she were unwell in the head. "And why the fuck would I want to do that?"

Marcy pointed at him. "See, that's exactly what I'm talking about. There was no need for such language."

"Ugh." Trevor dragged a hand across his face. "This is gonna be a long walk, isn't it?"


"Are w-w-w-we th-th-there yet-t-t-t?" Sasha asked, shivering as she marched through the snow with her captors, who remained unfazed.

"No," Striga answered bluntly.

Sasha felt like her bare legs were going to get frostbite at any moment. She looked up at the tall and muscular vampire woman. "H-h-h-h-how are y-y-y-you g-g-g-g-guys st-t-t-t-til march-ch-ching?"

"We're vampires. The cold does not bother us. And the camp is just up ahead." Striga pointed forward, and Sasha followed her finger, revealing a small gathering of tents and lit torches to brighten the chilly night sky.

Sasha clasped her hands and looked up at the heavens above. "Th-th-thank you, G-G-God."

"Just keep moving." One of the soldiers behind the blonde teenager pushed.

"I'm g-g-going!" Sasha marched with the troops into the camp, staying behind Striga the entire way. Everyone there, all vampires. Some were in the middle of training, and others were discussing something. But they all stopped whatever it was they were doing just to look at the blonde… looking at her with hunger.

"If you behave for Morana, I won't have to feed you to them," Striga assured and warned at the same time. They stopped at a larger tent than the others within the camp. The vampire general turned to the soldiers behind her. "Leave us."

"Are you sure?" One soldier asked. "What if she tries running?"

"How far do you think she would get?" The soldier remained silent, realizing just how stupid his question was before leaving with the others. "Come, girl."

Sasha did not need to be told twice and followed the strong vampire into the tent. It was warm inside. A blissful warmth enveloped the blonde from head to toe, and she loved it. At this point, anything was better than freezing out in the snow. At the end of the tent was another vampire woman sitting at a table, reading a book. She looked up from it and smiled upon noticing Striga. "My beloved." She began. "You've returned earlier than expected."

"Would you believe me if I said I couldn't stand being away from you much longer?" The general flirted.

Morana was different from the other vampires here. She wore very regal attire; a blue and white corset dress that went down to her feet and covered arms to her wrists, and a gold scarf around her neck. But aside from that, her skin was much darker, and her eyes were lighter in color. If it were not for the fact that this was an encampment of blood-drinking monsters, Sasha would have easily mistaken her for being human.

The blonde's presence did not go unnoticed. "And who is this?" The well-dressed vampire questioned.

"My men discovered her within the village that was raided." Striga looked at Sasha, and the girl looked back at her. "She says she is from another world and was stranded in ours."

"Another world, you say?" Morana rubbed her chin.

"You know something?"

"Some legends surround a portal known as the Infinite Corridor. These tales have existed even before our lifetimes in this world. Yet, neither human nor vampire knows much about it."

"You have an idea, don't you?"

"And what would make you think that?"

"You have that look in your eye; it tells all."

Morana chuckled. "I'm not a schemer like Carmilla." She stared intently at that teenager. "What is your name, girl?"

"Sasha Waybright." She answered without hesitation, knowing lying through her teeth would not get her out of this situation.

"I can hear it in your heart and see it in your eyes that you don't wish to die here."

Sasha scoffed. "I think that's pretty obvious, lady."

"You're far too young to turn into one of us; Carmilla would not tolerate an immortal child within her army. And you would hardly be of any sustenance to soldiers. So, I'm offering a proposition."

The teen raised an eyebrow. "What kind of proposition?"

"I could use a servant to help me with my work. My beloved's soldiers, while competent, lack the… shall we say, elegance, for what I need."

"And what makes you think I would agree to that?"

"Because I would have no issue with throwing you out into the cold and letting you freeze to death." Sasha remained silent at that threat, which she could only assume was completely honest. Morana looked to Striga. "Get her cleaned up and into some fresh clothes; I have a feeling we will be able to make use of her, for now."

The general nodded and dragged Sasha out of the tent. The blonde knew there was no point in trying to fight it. She will try escaping the moment there is an opening. But for now, the best she can do is just try to survive.


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