Sasha sat stark-naked in the tub. Calling it a tub was too generous; it was more of a large barrel nearly filled with warm water that Striga drew for her. It did feel nice, given her current climate, to be honest. "I don't hear you washing, girl." The general said from outside the tent. She was standing watch to make sure none of the other vampires had any ideas to attack the vulnerable girl. "We don't have all night."

Sasha grumbled to herself as she took the washcloth and scrubbed every part. Once she was clean, she dreaded what came next. The blonde grabbed a towel and quickly wrapped herself up in it as she stepped out. Her body began to shiver from the freezing weather. She did not waste any time grabbing the clothes laid out for her. It was a red dress. The color was nice, but Sasha loathed those kinds of outfits — and it was ragged, and the material was far from comfortable. It was made for a servant.

Fully garbed, Sasha stepped out of the tent. "About time," Striga said, walking ahead. "Come, girl, Morana will be expecting you."

"My name is Sasha." The blonde replied.

Striga looked back. "What?"

"I am not just a girl. My name is Sasha Waybright."

"Your name matters not. You are just a girl. A girl who is lucky to be alive. And if you want to stay that way, you will do what I fucking say and come with me."

Sasha, admittedly unnerved but not showing it, followed behind the vampire. She mumbled, "I'm only listening to you because it's cold outside, not because you told me to."

Sasha nearly jumped out of her skin upon hearing a squeal. She turned to the sound and spotted three vampires feasting on a pig, crying for someone to rescue it as the monsters stole its blood. One of the vampires gagged after having his fill then looked at Sasha, and she saw no trace of humanity in his eyes.

"Don't even think about it," Striga warned him.

Before walking away, the vampire glowered and bared his fangs at Sasha, trying to intimidate her. The blonde just turned away and covered her ears, trying to put any empathy she felt towards the poor, dying creature in her mind. Another grim reminder of her situation, that if not for Morana, she could have been that pig.

Sasha and Striga arrived at Morana's tent. The aristocratic vampire was eating something off a plate, with a fork and knife in each hand. It looked like steak, the reddest looking steak she had ever seen, with chopped potatoes and greens. Red oozed from the meat as she cut into it, indicating how raw or recent it was.

Morana then looked up from her work. Her attention, particularly on the blonde. "She cleaned up nice." She said approvingly. While Sasha tried to hide it, Morana could read the disgust on her face. She looked at her lover. "Did anyone give her trouble?"

"No," Striga answered. "I stayed by her side the entire time." She looked at Sasha. "Though, we did pass by some of the soldiers feasting on a swine out in the open."

"Oh, for God's sake." Morana sighed. "They have tents pitched to eat in private, yet they act like animals in the wild."

"I'll remind them they are soldiers of Styria and should act like it."

"Will you not stay for some dinner?" Morana used a potato slice to soak up more blood. "It is delicious."

"Thank you, but I must decline. I'll be surveying the perimeter; make sure nothing comes skulking around." Striga turned and exited the tent, leaving Sasha to wonder what vampires would have to worry about. But before she went, the general gave Sasha a look. "Don't try anything stupid." With that ominous warning or threat, depending on how one interprets it, Striga left Sasha with Morana.

The blonde looked back at the aristocratic vampire drinking from a goblet, then gazed at her. "Girl, bring me more wine." She pointed over at a fancy-looking cabinet. "Middle shelf."

Sasha looked over at the cabinet, then at Morana, then back to the cabinet. She hurried over and opened it. There were so many glass bottles inside, all filled with red liquid. If not for her stomach being empty, Sasha would have sworn she would throw up.

"Girl!"

"I'm coming!" Sasha snapped back, trying to keep her façade up as she grabbed a bottle. She picked up a corkscrew along the way. She knew how to open bottles from seeing her mom doing it…. way more than often. Sasha popped the bottle open at the table, steeling herself for the disgusting smell to invade her nostrils. But there was none; it was…

"What?" Morana looked confused at the girl's confusion. "It's wine." She blinked upon realizing and chuckled. "You thought it was—"

"Yeah." Sasha nodded.

"Blood isn't all we can consume. Just the most nutritious." Morana stabbed one of the greens with her fork. "We are allowed to enjoy more than that." She ate the vegetable with a crunch.

"Good to know." Sasha poured the wine into the goblet. The vampire took a sip from it. "Leave the bottle and pull up a seat."

Sasha blinked. She understood leaving the bottle, but why would she need a seat? "Okay, why?"

"I'd wish to discuss your claims of being from another world and the village Striga found you in."

"I told your girlfriend I don't know anything about that."

"I know you're not lying about that. But every bit of information would be helpful to learn what happened."

Sasha's curiosity was starting to be piqued. "Why do any of you care about an empty village?"

"I ask the questions, you answer." Morana took another sip of wine. "Your life is in my hands, remember?"

"And that's why I'm asking." Sasha leaned on the table. "You see me as food, weak, and beneath you. So, why do you care about what happened to one stupid village?"

"Alright, girl. While most would only see value in material objects, you seem to know the value of information. Seeking every advantage for your survival." Morana looked Sasha in the eye. "I know those who are masters at this game. And while you are not one, you know how to play better than most people your age."

Sasha folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Are you buttering me up so that I spill the beans?"

Morana gave Sasha a confused look. "If that's your way of asking if I am complimenting you to loosen your tongue, then no. I'm merely stating a fact."

Morana chuckled lightly. "How does Lenore make this look easy?"

Sasha relaxed in the chair. "Lenore?"

"One of our sisters." Morana sipped more of her wine. "She may not look it, but she is one of the cleverest of our kind." She put her goblet down. "Something tells me that you would either be the best of friends or enemies if you two met."

"Well, she sounds nice." Though she said it jokingly, Sasha would admit her curiosity was piqued.

"Over there!" "Come on!" "Move it, soldiers!" Sasha and Morana heard the commotion outside, seeing soldiers running past the opened flaps of the tent.

"What's going on?" Sasha asked the vampire.

"I am not sure," Morana answered, getting up and investigating. Sasha followed behind her, feeling that she would be safe with the vampire that did not want to drink her. And whose girlfriend was in charge of everyone else in the camp. Speaking of which, the two lovers ran into each other. "My love, what is going on?"

"That." Striga pointed, and Morana and Sasha followed her finger. A figure ran to the camp in the snowy distance, completely naked.

"It's just a guy, right?" Sasha asked.

"A human who approaches a camp full of vampires either has a death wish or something else." Striga looked to her beloved and the girl. "Stay here, both of you."

"Please… help me!" The man cried, dropping to his knees. "They took us! They're coming!"

"Stop where you are! Identify yourself!" Sasha stayed by Morana's side as Striga approached the naked man.

"They're—" The man was cut off by a shriek coming from the sky. Sasha looked up and gasped upon seeing a creature like a human bat diving toward the man. "No!" That was all he could scream before being pinned to the ground, and the creature ripped his throat out. The snow turned a deep crimson. The monster looked like a human with pale gray skin, elongated limbs, lifeless yellow eyes, and a flat face. It was drenched in blood and the upper half of its torso and leathery wings protruding from its back.

"Oh, dear God," Sasha said, feeling like she would hurl out her stomach.

The creature turned to Sasha and let out a hiss-like roar before charging toward her on its hands and feet like a wild animal. Before it could get any close, it was pinned down by Striga, who moved much faster than someone a body should be capable of. But then again, they are vampires. "No, you fucking don't!" The muscular vampire cursed. She grabbed the creature's head and rapidly slammed it into the snow. The sounds were a mix of crying and blood-gushing as its face was ultimately reduced to a bloody mess. She crushed the head into a paste with a final smash, and the body stopped moving.

Striga cleaned her red-stained hand in the snow and wiped blood splatters from her face. Everyone in the camp looked in awe, except for Morana, and Sasha was even more terrified of what the vampires could do. But that thought was interrupted by shrieks. "General!" A soldier shouted and pointed in the distance. More of them were coming.

"Soldiers of Styria, arm yourselves! And prepare for battle!" Striga and the soldiers returned to the camp. "Morana, come with me. And you too, girl." Sasha was not going to argue with her and followed the vampires back into the tent. "Find a weapon but stay in here. I'll handle this." She gave her beloved a quick kiss on the lips before departing.

"What the hell are those things?!" Sasha asked. "They look like vampires, but not like you guys!"

"They're Nosferatu," Morana answered, opening a cabinet with a pair of swords inside. "Feral vampires that live out in the wild. They usually aren't this organized." She grabbed one for herself. The tent's roof tore above, and a feral vampire stuck its head through the opening, shrieking. "Stay beside me!" The Nosferatu clawed its way inside and dove at Morana. The regal vampire slammed the flat of her blade against it, knocking it away.

Sasha was not an expert on dueling, but she could tell the only person stopping her from becoming a meal had little to no skill for fighting. "We are so screwed."

The feral vampire shrieked and tackled Morana just as she slashed at it. Her swing missed, and the creature had pinned her down. The sword was tossed away. Morana wrestled the monster with her bare hands, using her strength to keep the beast from tearing into her, eyes turning blood red and fangs bared. Using them, she bit into the creature's jugular and ripped it out. It shrieked as blood sprayed all over the room, drenching Morana as she swiped at it with her nails. There was another screech as a second Nosferatu tore through the tent. It tackled Morana, laying her face down, and was about to bring a claw down on her.

"Hey, ugly!" Sasha shouted, grabbing its attention long enough for the blonde to drive the retrieved sword through the feral vampire's eye and out the other side of its head. Sasha put all her strength into a slash with a grunt, cutting half of its head off, exposing the brain as she was sprayed with crimson. "Ugh! Gross! I think I got it in my mouth!" She spat until her mouth was dry.

"Impressive," Morana said to the girl. "Where did someone young as you learn to fight like that?"

Sasha smirked with confidence. "Cheerleading, believe it or not."

Morana looked at her, confused. "I'm sorry, cheer what?" There were more shrieks, and the sounds of battle outside were starting to grow. "Never mind." The vampire got to her feet. "If you can fight, you join."

Knowing she would not have much choice, giving her only option was to flee out into the frozen forest. Sasha joined Morana outside and witnessed the rest of the carnage. There were more Nosferatu than expected, and the soldiers of Styria were on the brink of being overwhelmed. The better-armed men fought to their last unliving breaths, but the sheer numbers were too much. One soldier would be ripped apart for every several feral slain. A pair of Nosferatu shrieked and headed right for Sasha and Morana; the blonde held her weapon and let out a cry of defiance. She was not going down without a fight.

But the creatures were then cut down so fast that Sasha could not even register it, not until the blood splattered on her and snow she stood within. In place of the feral vampires stood a hulking figure armored from head to toe in black plating with an openmouthed crow-shaped helmet, with a reflective yellow visor concealing the face behind. Held in one hand was an enormous sword; it was unlike anything Sasha had ever seen, and it was being carried like a butter knife.

"Girl, Morana, why aren't you in the tent." The echoing voice of Striga demanded from the blonde and her lover.

"She can fight," Morana answered. "And she will."

"I gotta say, girlfriend, that armor suits you," Sasha said, trying to cut the tension. But she was not lying, either.

"Make sure to stay out of my way and keep Morana safe," Striga warned, turning to her loyal vampires fighting off the feral ones. She crouched down, digging her feet and freehand into the snow, and pounced into the fray like a restless animal. "Come on, you fucking vermin!" With a slash of her sword, she reduced five targeted Nosferatu into a bloody paste. At the same time, several who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time were sliced in half. She grabbed the ankle of one that was barely clinging to its undead life, entrails pouring out of its gut, and used it to club others to death before all that was left was just its leg. She charged at another group of feral vampires and skewered them on her sword; they were all shish-kabobed. With the vampires still on it, she slammed her sword so hard on the ground exploding upon impact. Striga let out a roar that caused some of their enemy to make the wise decision and flee. "You're not going anywhere!" Striga charged at the fleeing Nosferatu and cut them all to ribbons, letting out a grunt that grew more feral with each slain.

The soldiers of Styria let out battle cries; their morale was boosted by the carnage brought about by their general. Sasha felt exhilarated from all this. She joined the men she once saw as captors, the holders of her fate, in hunting down the last of the invaders. She drove her sword into one foe after the other, her adrenaline pumping faster with every drop of blood spilled on the icy white ground. This was her first experience in an actual battle; ending lives by her hands or theirs could end her life. It was exhilarating. Within this very moment, she truly felt alive.

Soon, the battle was over, and the once pristine white snow was soiled with red blood and corpses. Sasha breathed heavily, dropping to her knees, using her sword to support herself. Her adrenal high desisted, and she realized just how drenched in crimson she was. "Gross." She breathed out. She was going to need another bath, and soon.

"Still alive, I see," Striga spoke, grabbing the blonde's attention. The vampire was covered in more blood and guts than she was. "Not bad, for humans." She offered the teen a hand, which she accepted, and was pulled to her feet like a child picking up a ragdoll. "The only humans I've ever known to fight like that against Night Creatures was the Belmont Clan."

"Never heard of 'em."

"Well, they are all dead. But they were the only humans to have my respect for their bravery. Foolish bravery, but bravery nonetheless."

"Wait, did you just compliment me?" Sasha smirked.

Striga smirked back. "Perhaps." Suddenly, a shriek grabbed the attention of everyone in the camp, and they spotted Nosferatu with its legs cleaved and wings shredded, clawing out from the bodies of its kind. "I got this."

"My love, wait," Morana spoke before Striga could walk over and put the feral out of its misery. "Look." She pointed at the forehead of the creature, where a sigil was burning bright. "It has a brand."

"What does that mean?" Sasha asked.

"It means these creatures were under the control of magicians. Keep it alive; I must study it."

Striga nodded, stabbing her blade into the ground before walking to the feral. She picked up the creature by its arms. "You're not going anywhere." She ripped off the Nosferatu's remaining limbs with a grunt, making it screech in pain and splattering more blood around.

"General!" A soldier shouted. "It's almost dawn!" The soldier pointed out into the distance to the sun that was beginning to peak out over the horizon.

"Everyone, in your tents! Now!" Striga ordered, and the soldiers did not need to be told twice as they retreated to their only shelter. She carried the screaming feral with her and gestured for Morana and Sasha to join. "With me!" They would have hours to interrogate their newest prisoner and soon commence a hunt for the truth.


Danesti was indeed a humble village if Anne ever saw one. A definite change of pace compared to Los Angeles' loud and bustling streets. It mainly consisted of hut-like houses, and the people were busy with their daily routines.

"I'll help introduce ya to everyone here." Wally offered Anne. "Some of them may act a little wary at first, but they'll eventually get used to ya."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that," Anne said.

Wally led the teenager through the village and introduced her to them personally. The people Wally mentioned would be wary of her, treated her like she had the plague or something, and did not leave a good first impression. But she eventually got around to meeting some friendlier people.

The local woodcarver was the first person, a man with small white tufts of hair and a large white mustache named Leopold. He was a cheerful man and offered to sell Anne some wood carvings, but she turned them down. They met an elderly dairy farmer known as Mrs. Croaker and Archer, her dog. She was a bit crabby towards Anne and Wally, but the latter assured the new resident that she could be lovely. Next, they met the local baker, a stocky man with a deep voice who also happened to be Hadditha's father. The last person was a kind woman with long red hair named Velicia, who was happy to see that Anne was up and about and offered to make her some tea. But like with Leopold, Anne kindly refused.

After getting to know the village a bit, Anne felt more confident and decided to explore. "Hey, you're that new girl everyone's talking about, right?" Anne turned around to see who it was that was speaking to her. A boy around her age, maybe slightly younger, with light skin and orange hair poking out of the edge of his dark forest green hat. It reminded her of the hat worn by the likes of Robin Hood or something. He wore a moss green tunic with black pants and shoes. And slung around his shoulder was a red sack. "Word travels fast around here."

"Oh, yeah, that's me," Anne said. "The new girl in town, Anne Boonchuy."

"The name's Timothy Plantar, but everyone here calls me "Twig." Because I like to go foraging in the woods and usually get twigs in my hair."

"Nice to meet you, Twig." Anne extended her hand outward, and the boy gleefully shook it. Anne heard a squishy sound and realized Twig's hand was covered in mud.

And Twig seemed to realize it himself. "Oh, sorry." He pulled his hand away, embarrassed. "I was working in the fields with Pop and forgot to clean up."

"Working in the fields?" Anne wiped her muddy hand clean on her tunic. "Are you farmers?"

"Yep. Pop and my sister Molly help supply Danesti with the produce."

"Twig, there you are!" Another voice shouted an older sounding voice as a well-dressed older man — by medieval standards, at least — approached them. He was short stature and had white tufts of hair on each head. A girl who shared similar features to Twig was walking alongside him, except a bit younger. Her orange hair was tied into a ponytail and had a blue bow on her head. She wore a lavender tunic with black pants and shoes.

"Oh, hello, Pop. Hello, Molly." Twig greeted them.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack, boy." The older man, Pop, scolded. "I thought you ran off into the woods again."

"You could've gotten eaten by a monster!" Molly, the girl, exclaimed. "And then I'd be stuck doing your chores!"

"Sorry, I just wanted to meet the girl everyone was talking about." Twig apologized. "Speaking of which, this her." Twig turned to introduce the fellow teenager.

"Sup, I'm Anne." Anne extended her hand out, but unlike Twig, neither Pop nor Molly shook it. Anne could guess that they fell into the "warry" category in Danesti.

"Don't take it personally."

"I'll try not, too."

"Now come on, boy, do you want everyone to starve because of us?" Pop asked Twig as he and Molly were taking their leave.

"No, sir, I'm coming," Twig replied, about to follow. "I hope to see you around, Anne Boonchuy."

"You too!" Anne waved goodbye. Now that she is somewhat acquainted with the village, she needs to figure out her next move to find Sasha and Marcy, wherever they are. She had a feeling she was going to be staying in Danesti for a while.


Marcy groaned as she continued following behind Trevor Belmont. We've been walking for hours! My legs feel like they're gonna snap off. "Mr. Belmont, do you know where we're going?" She whined.

"I swear to God; I will leave you to fend for yourself if you ask me that one more bloody time." Trevor Belmont responded to her bellyaching.

"Please, I don't think I can keep walking." I will never skip gym class again, that's for sure.

The man pinched his temples with his middle finger and thumb. "Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

I have one suggestion, but I think I know his answer. "You could give me a piggyback ride?"

Trevor Belmont stopped and glanced at the girl. "Do I look like a fucking horse to you?" Called it, and still rude. Marcy then gave him big sad eyes, like a puppy dog. "Stop looking at me like that; it's not gonna work." She continued to stare. "No." She did a little quivering lip, and the man inhaled sharply. "Oh, for God's sake, fine! Just stop it already!"

Marcy breathed in and had the biggest smile on her face. "Thank you! Thank you!" Trevor Belmont grumbled something she could not make out. Another creative use of the "F" word, if I had to guess.

He squatted down and allowed Marcy to climb on top, holding his shoulders, and stood without a grunt. "Christ's sake, do you have any muscle at all?"

"Come on; I'm not that light."

"I've carried bundles of sticks that weigh more than you." Trevor Belmont marched on with the thirteen-year-old holding onto him. They ventured through the forest until the number of trees grew thinner and the sun peaked out. Out in the distance, they spotted a walled-off city out in the middle of nowhere. "And there's Gresit. Only forty bloody miles out from where we are."

"That's Gresit?" Marcy asked, underwhelmed.

"It's what I said, wasn't it? Forty miles. Forty miles until your someone else's problem."

Marcy let out a sigh. You don't have to be so mean about it? "Yeah, you're right. I find the Speakers, they help me find my friends, and then we go back home to our normal lives. And you go back to yours, right?"

"Yeah, you get the better end of the deal, leaving this hell." Trevor Belmont carried Marcy to their final stop together in this world.


The story isn't dead! Sorry for the long delay between chapters, but I am back and will try to upload more frequently unless life has other plans. Anyway, from all the reviews I've gotten, I'm surprised how well received the subplot with Sasha, Striga, and Morana has been. I want to thank everyone who is still following the story despite the lack of updates. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and have a wonderful day or night.

Please favorite, follow and leave a review; feedback is appreciated.