Being Hunted 
		(Continuation of "On The Hunt")
		By Jesse Smith <slicer69@hotmail.com>
		http://slicer69.tripod.com/


	I put the heads of the two vampires in a bag, which I found in kitchen area
of the house. After tying it up, I realized that I had a new problem on my hands.
It was now night time and I was in a virtual vampire lair. Now, was I to venture forth
into the night? Or should I stay here in the hopes that no more vampires would arrive?
As I've said, they rarely travel in groups. But these were obviously not normal circumstances.

	I eventually opted for staying put. I was in no condition, honestly, to travel. I
plunked myself down in a corner and waited. Sleep came hard to me. After all, I was within
spitting range of two corpses. One does not sleep well in such conditions, especially when
one is waiting more more blood thirsty monsters to descend. Sometime before sunrise I slept.

	In the dream I was sitting against a wall. Propped is more like it. My sleeves we
bloody and torn. For some reason I felt tired. So tired. Everything was covered my a thin
mist. Either my poor vision, or a real mist I couldn't be sure. Moving my head was an effort,
but it swung around freely. In my arm there was a needle with a tube attached to the end.
Blood dripped from the tube into a small vial next to me. I watched, calmly, as another
drop, then another fell into the vial. Blood. My blood.

	I tore my gaze away from my arm, from the vial. Around me I could see others. Figures
who, like me, were propped into a sitting position. Each of them seemed to be asleep, each
with a tube coming out of their arm...

	I awoke in the tiny hut in the woods. Light streaming in through the window hit
my eyes like a slap to the face. How long had I slept? Regardless of that fact, I was now
awake, alive and- I looked myself over. No holes, no new blood. No needle. I breathed
a shaky sigh of relief.

	Looking around I found that the vampires hadn't bothered to bring my food rations
into the house with me. Little wonder since they could do without it. I took the time to
kick one of the corpses on my way out the door.

	It was noon at this point, which was perfect for my state of mind. The last thing I
wanted was any more surprises. I'm not often shaken so completely, but two nights without
proper sleep and close encounters with oddly behaving vampires would shake anyone.
I spent some time foraging for berries and, by luck, found my backpack. Some animal had found
it before me, however, and there was only a little bread left.

	The walk into town was without incident. Walking in past the farmers' fields felt
like a homecoming. I lowered my hood and waved at the strangers. Partly so that I wouldn't
feel so alone. Partly so that they would know I wasn't undead myself. Blood covered
figures covering their heads and faces are not often received well. Especially when people
are missing from the community. Understandable, really.

	This town, like many others in the area, was under the guidance of a small council
of retired men. One of them happened to be home that afternoon; there was no town hall.
Upon seeing me, the lady of the house asked me to stay where I was and disappeared back into
the house. Why oh why would you not let a bloody stranger carrying a bag of heads into your
home? I just don't understand some people.

	One of the Elders, as they're called in this area, came to the door. After a brief
question and answer session, I was admitted and offered a chair. What I really wanted was a meal
and a bath. My mother was from one of those southern lands where the people bath as often
as once a month. The habit had been ingrained into me at an early age. However, such niceties
would have to wait. I explained, slowly and with small words, what had happened in the
forest. Explained that the disappearances should stop now and, finally, showed the Elder
the severed heads. I have to give him credit, he took it well. Not so well that he
wanted to pay me. Such a poor town he had to run, so little money. I'd heard it
all before. I offered to lower my price in exchange for food and warm water. Surprised, he
agreed. Just as well for him. He handed over some silver and gold coins and I handed 
over the bag, which he planned to burn that very evening.

	That night I dreamt again. Again I was back in that room with the needle, the
vial and the blood. Everything smelled. The other bodies around me seemed to be asleep,
or frozen in time. Then I noticed a figure standing at the far end of the room. Tall and
dark, it moved slowly about the bodies. Smoothly it moved from one shadowed figure to
the next, looking them over like a house wife checking meat at the market. Power radiated
from the form and I made sure not to move. Once, the figure stopped, adjusted the needle
in a man's arm. I shivered and the action woke me up. I was covered with a cold, heavy
sweat.

	Just in case you think I'm completely obsessed with my work or that I take
my dreams too seriously, I have news for you. I have other, seemingly pointless
dreams. For example, just before that farmer disappeared, I had a dream about
talking plants. It was actually, quite funny. However, that's neither here nor
there. As some people will know, dreams can be very telling. Some dreams are, well,
special. These dreams give us glimpses into ourselves, our pasts and our future. These
dreams I share with you.

	Some people think that vampires have the ability to dominate people; to control
a person's will. This isn't the case. I've faced enough of the creatures, I should know.
What happens, often as not, is that the person who comes face to face with a vampire
is so scared, they fail to move. Understandable, since vampires see us as food. It's similar
to the way a mouse may freeze when faced with a cat. This is how I nearly met my end
years ago.

	It was my last hunting trip with my father. We had tracked a vampire back to a
cave out in the hills. As this was to be my last non-solo trip, I was supposed to
take the vampire down by myself. No problem, I had thought. Being smaller, I would generally
sneak around behind the creature while my father attacked head on. However, this time,
my father wasn't attacking our prey head on. So, my attempt to creep up behind the vampire
failed. He turned when I was no more than five feet distant and fixed me with a cold,
hate-filled stare. I'll never forget that moment. The point at which I went from being
the hunter, to the hunted. Looking into those yellow eyes with my green ones, we locked
for a very long second. Then he was on top of me, growling, hissing and spitting. His
fingers, claw-like, digging into my flesh. My saving grace? The dagger I already had in my hand.
I stabbed at his body, opening gashes along his side until he let off. When he turned to
run, I tossed the blade deftly into the back of his neck.

	It was my intention to stay in town for a few days. The days after a successful vampire
hunt is the time I call "Hero time". During those few days, the locals have a certain amount
of respect and gratitude for the hunter. Even if they have no money, as is often the case,
they are often willing to provide baked goods, a bed and such. It is also a time when
I can tell and re-tell stories that make men view me with respect and women view me with
lust.

	This time was no different. The locals practically took a day off to listen to my
story. Some wanted to venture off into the woods to burn down the little hut. Others
wanted to board up there houses. I tried to talk them out of both ideas as I thought
them useless and wasteful. I assured them that I would stick around awhile longer
to insure no further attacks, which did wonders for my reputation. Actually, I had little
intension of sticking around more than a few days. When word gets around that a hunter
is in the area, one of two things happen. Angry vampires come looking for him or fearful
vampires run away. Either way, it's bad for business and general well being.

	That night I was invited to stay with family of the recently deceased farmer. I
accepted the invitation and made my way (I admit drunkenly) to their homestead. I met
the wife and children of the now ex-farmer and was fed well. Since they were somewhat low
on rooms, I offered to sleep in the barn. It's usually warmer around animals anyway.

	I had just settled in for the night, when I heard the barn door open. I had a knife
in my hand and was struggling to my feet in seconds. Or rather, I tried. I cut my fingers
and fell back into the straw. Too drunk to do that quickly. I turned and sat up as the
figure came into the barn. She was slight, brown hair reflected in the light from the lantern
she carried. This was unexpected.

	"I thought you might be cold," she said, stepping into the barn and closing the
door.
	"Well, I'm actually-" I slurred. Then she put the lantern down and her cloak fell
to the floor.
	"You're not properly dressed," I observed. Though her undergarments were rather nice.
	"I'm not a proper sort of person," she replied back, in a mock country drawl.

	Then I realized that I didn't recognize this woman. I was suddenly sure she wasn't one
of the farmer's daughters. So much for that opportunity.

	"Well, miss. Um..." something in the back of my mind was sending out warning signals.
Just not quite loud enough. What wasn't right with this picture?

	She glided across the floor to where I still hadn't stood up. "Tense?" she
asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing at the dagger in my bloody hand.

	"Oh, I, yes." I put the knife down. No sense in scaring the poor girl. She couldn't
be more than sixteen or so...Though, come to think of it, she didn't seem scared anyway.
Looking up at her, watching her unlace her underwear, the pieces came together.
She wasn't from here, so she must have travelled. She was in her underthings on a cool night
and she seemed to know me. The lantern she had brought it was behind her now, shadowing
her features-

	The alcohol quickly moved aside for the adrenaline. The knife was back in my wounded
hand and I was pulling myself to my feet. Too slow, I was being too slow.

	"What's wrong?" she asked, stepping back. She seemed frozen in time, half undressed.

	Holding the dagger between us, I summoned a ball of magic light. My energy was
still low, which was fine. My eyes needed time to adjust. Her face, her eyes, her skin. All
normal. No trace of vampirism on her. She looked worried, confused, hurt.

	"My dear," I said slowly. "Where did you come from? And why are you not wearing more..."
I glanced down, "clothes?"

	She took in my words, thinking them over. "I..I came out from the house," she pointed
behind her. "I'm a guest with the Varners."

	Odd that I hadn't seen her. Of course, I hadn't searched the house or anything.
I looked her over again. While vampires can often hide themselves very well, there are
always changes made when a person is turned. This girl showed no signs. I returned the
dagger to my belt.

	"My apologies," I said. "I've been a little jumpy of late."
	She stepped forward again, the slightest smile on her lips.
	"I can calm your tired nerves," she said, touching my hand with hers.
	She did.

	In the morning, she was gone and I had to think hard before convincing myself
that it wasn't a dream. It wasn't though. I have normally have trouble sleeping shirtless
on straw. The smell of her hair about me was unmistakable. When I went into the house,
she was there, eating breakfast. Over a small meal, I found out that she wasn't a local,
hence the accent. She was a friend of the family, who happened to be visiting. She was,
in fact, from the city of Neclobar. Which, as memory served, was south of our location. 
A small city, to be sure, but a clean, welcoming one, I was assured. Would I like to
travel back south with her, on the morrow?

	I thought it over. I had no further work to be done here, I hoped. Besides, the sooner
I left this woodsy area of darkness, dreams and cheap Elders, the better. I agreed.
She had, I was told, an escort and horses. They could redistribute the load so I could
ride with them. All the better, I thought.

	I spent the rest of the day doing farm work. Mending fences, feeding animals and
talking with the widow. The next day we were off, riding south.