The sun was raised high in the sky without a cloud in sight. The scorching heat, which radiated from it created a rippling effect over the horizon. From that horizon, a sleek and muscular black horse could be seen trotting at a slow pace towards the small town, as if the rider in no hurry to go anywhere anytime soon. As the pair neared closer into view, the town’s folk began to buzz about with curiosity and suspicion for the lone outsider. They had reason to, after all. What with the myths and rumors created just out a ways in the forest. Every sane man who’d heard the terrible tale dared not come within sight of the sad village. Though, maybe this man hadn’t heard, the suspicious folk assumed. The poor fool. He’d surely fall victim to the town’s curse in no time at all.
Finally, the stranger had made his way into the small town. He was a tall man; even atop his horse, it was obvious. His body was covered in a large coat that went to his knees, drenched in a color as dark as his steed, despite the heat. His hair was a dark brown, almost black, color and lay in choppy layers over his ears and to his neck. His eyes were a rather peculiar color- a dull hazel, as bright as the moon on a foggy night. It wasn’t his eyes, but his skin, which was the most suspicious.
“What business brings you about this place, stranger?” A man, likely in his late forty’s, asked as he stepped from the small crowed that lined the rider’s path.
The horse stopped, but the lone rider did not make a move to answer or so much as look in the direction from which the question was asked. After a moment, the horse picked up its slow pace once again.
The curious man stuttered a bit before running up to the rider’s side. This time the great black horse did not stop, so the man simply walked along side it. Still, those hazel eyes did not glance upon him.
“Sir, I mean you no offense,” the man tried. “We people only wondered what would bring any man to our accursed town.”
With a light tug of the reigns, the horse stopped to allow its mysterious rider’s graceful dismount outside a small restaurant. The darkly dressed man led his beast to the drinking bin beside the establishment and secured it to the wood railing. At last, he turned to the man, who stood at attention at once.
“I have no money,” he started, his voice as dark and smooth as the horse he stood beside. “Treat me and I shall answer whatever you have to ask.” The mysterious man did not wait for an answer before heading into the wooden building.
“So,” the town’s man began after their food was placed before them. “How about a name? Or should I continue to call you stranger?” he asked with a curious look as the silent one pushed his fork through a slab of meat on his plate.
“Damon,” he answered then slipped the bite between his lips. The man watched him warily as he chewed then swallowed only to repeat the process. A silent glance from the sharp hazel eyes sent the man’s gaze elsewhere.
“So, Mr. Damon, have you not heard of our cursed village? Surely if you had, you wouldn’t be here,” the man sort of chuckled.
“I have,” Damon replied without looking up from his plate. “Every now and again a ma will disappear in the middle of the night, never to be seen or heard from again. Up until recently, no one would pay it much attention, but now these abductions have become rather frequent. The last any of those men had been seen alive was outside of the forest near this town. So, supposedly, that’s where they’ve all gone. Correct?” Damon supplied as he finished off the last of his meal.
The man stared in awe. “Sir, if you know this, then why have you come?”
Damon stood and walked to the door, stopping briefly to answer the man. “I know what’s causing this. I’m here to rid this place of its ‘curse’.”
Midnight came quickly. The moon rose to its peek in the sky as Damon led his horse to a stop outside of the trees. He said nothing as he dropped off of the great beast. Gracefully and without a sound, he entered the pitch-black cluster of trees.
After a short time of being in the dense grove, an echoing giggle was heard. It was clear, ringing laugher, like silver bells. The noise seemed to come from everywhere at once, then ceased. Damon came to a stop and frowned while his brows tilted the slightest bit inward. The cool night air dance around him then ran through the trees loudly. With the glow of the moon as his only source of light, Damon moved his bright hazel eyes to each tree he was facing.
“Looking for something?” A sultry voice asked from behind him and giggled.
Damon made no move to look at the owner of the voice. He said nothing and kept his eyes fixed ahead.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” he could hear the smirk in her voice and felt her breath next to his ear while her arms gracefully wound over his shoulders. Slowly, she turned Damon to face her.
Damon studied her with an unamused glare. Her pale skin, which glowed under the moon, was dressed in a delicate gown of pure white and lacy ruffles. Her long, curly, golden locks framed her face and flowed down to her lower back, giving her the impression of a doll. Her lips curled into a sweet smile while she eyed Damon with lustful hunger in her bright yellow eyes.
“What’s wrong?” She asked playfully and drew closer to him; arms still securely on his broad shoulders. “Don’t you want to play with me?” The suggestion was little more than a breathy whisper against his jaw line. When Damon involuntarily flinched, she smiled into his skin. She had him.
Slowly, her silk like lips trailed down to the pulse in his neck. She kissed the spot softly, and then opened her mouth, revealing to the night her glistening fangs. Just as she was about to pierce his throat, her eyes widened and she gasped. Frantically, she stumbled back as far as she could and looked fearfully into Damon’s eyes.
Damon’s had could be seen clutching something throbbing and dripping on the outside of the creature’s back. Blood poured from his hand and her wound, staining her white dress a crimson red.
“Y-you,” she tried to choke out, digging her nails into his coat and breathing hard.
“You’re a disgrace,” was the only thing Damon said before ripping his arm out of her chest. She collapsed and rested in a growing pool of her own blood.
As he watched her lifeless body, Damon raised his blood-covered hand to his face. Again, he frowned. “Despicable creatures,” his voice rumbled while his tongue ran over a finger. “All of them.”