2. Daylight Attack

As the forest enveloped her, Lark made her way down a path worn into the undergrowth. Originally a deer trail, it had been maintained by the village people to access the nearby lake. She hurried down it, her bag heavy as she scrambled over a few fallen trees. She could not move as quietly as she'd hoped, but found herself invigorated by the thought of her own bravery. Her life at the lord's castle may have been a comfortable one, but she refused to be a prisoner. Or a pet. Her brow furrowed at the thought. She would never be locked away to be used, fed on and humiliated. She would rather die than face that future. As she marched onward towards the next village to the East, she was resolute in her decision. She would build a new life for herself. Maybe she could even choose a new name. 

What she had forgotten was that the castle was located on the edge of the pristine lake. She would need to pass relatively close to it to continue her journey.  The next village was nearly one hundred miles away, a four day journey on foot, and she was burdened by her own supplies. Her path was dangerous. She would need to avoid predators, navigate a precarious mountain trail, and avoid detection if the lord's men came for her. In truth, she had little chance of reaching the village without incident. Her enthusiasm quickly began to fade as she saw the castle's impressive towers erupting from the trees across the still lake. It was still obscured by the morning mist but the water's surface was undisturbed and glassy. The castle itself was quite impressive and many centuries old. Some of the exposed stone was eroded and mossy, but it was still a beautiful sight, like a picture from one of the books she had read as a child. She frowned at the structure disapprovingly, relieved that she had left early enough to avoid being intercepted when she passed by. The lord's men would not come for her until sundown. Even when shrouded, sunlight was distasteful to vampires and they avoided it when possible.

As she drew nearer to the castle, she felt a sharp unease settle over her. Every step felt heavier. Her own dread made breathing difficult and her racing heart pained her. She soon needed to stop and rest. Though she could no longer see it, she knew the castle was close. Forcing herself to keep walking, she dragged her bag into a small glade down the road and settled down to eat some of the bread she had brought with her. She had baked it with some of the orphans in her care, and a few tears rolled down her cheeks as she realized how much she would miss them all. She had not risked saying goodbye, as any suspicion from her mistress would have resulted in her confinement until she could be collected by her new master.

Dejected, she sat for a while and let the rising sun warm her exposed skin. It helped to renew her and she gathered her things to leave. But as she stepped back under the shadowy canopy of the trees, she heard a disturbing sound. It was a low growl, ferocious and familiar. The birds had all ceased their singing. The growl was the only sound, besides her own footsteps over the fallen leaves. She froze, panic building in her chest. She had no weapon with which to defend herself and could not locate the source of the sound. The creature seemed to be drawing closer but she could hear no movement. Her eyes darted back and forth through the dense trees but she could see nothing. She dropped her bag of supplies, unsure of where to run. There was only one safe place nearby, and it could prove to be her gilded cage. As the growl intensified, goosebumps formed on her entire body. She felt like defenseless prey, blind in the dark. Frantic, she finally looked up into the trees. A dark figure perched on a branch overhead, obscured by a dark cloak. It was clearly humanoid but its face was hidden by a heavy hood. It was climbing towards her in a strange, fluid way, barely disturbing the tree itself. The sound it made was not human. 

Lark knew that it must be a rogue vampire and hunting in daylight was an act of desperation. Leaving her bag behind, she sprinted to the safety of the glade which was completely exposed. Even a starving vampire was unlikely to follow her into full sunlight. The vampire pursued her, crashing to the ground from its perch and chasing her on foot. But the glade was so close that even with its great speed it was unable to catch her before she burst through the treeline and into the clearing. However, much to her surprise, it continued the chase. Her lungs were on fire as she fought to escape. But the vampire easily overtook her. It extended a hand to snatch at her clothing, but she was able to wriggle from its grasp. She could hear a strangled shriek as the creature felt the sun on its outstretched hand and Lark turned quickly back the way she had come, leaving the vampire in the glade where it was greatly impacted by its exposure. It was weakened but still continued its pursuit, lumbering after her with a terrifying determination. As she felt her own strength failing, Lark realized she had only one option to save her own life.

The castle. 

Though her fear disoriented her she soon found the deer trail and struggled down it towards the home of her master. As she approached, the hunter still close behind, she searched desperately for the footbridge that led into the castle. Beyond it was the drawbridge, fastidiously maintained and erect, blocking her entrance. She raced across the bridge as the vampire gained on her, only a few steps behind. But as she was certain she would feel its claws at her back, the vampire let out a strangled cry and collapsed. Shocked, Lark turned and saw it laying crumpled on the bridge, an arrow sunk cleanly into its heart. Its hood had fallen off of its face, exposing an expression twisted with hunger and pain. The vampire was likely very beautiful in life, her dark hair falling over her delicate, distorted face as she began to disintegrate grotesquely in the sunlight. Lark watched as she burned away to nothing but a charred skeleton. Rage swiftly consumed her fear and she impulsively stepped forward and crushed the monster's skull with her boot. Tears began to fall freely down her face. She fell to her knees, the weight of her emotions cascading over her like an unrelenting wave. 

Confused and hysterical, she could not see her savior. Her eyes were blurred with tears and her head spun. Feeling as though she might be sick, she dropped onto the bridge and sobbed. She could hear the drawbridge being lowered but could not move, lying where she had fallen beside the remains of the vampire that had nearly killed her. Her energy gone, she barely felt herself being lifted from the bridge by a guard. He kicked the charred skeleton into the moat with a grunt of disgust and carried Lark's limp body across the drawbridge and into the keep. But before they had crossed the threshold, Lark succumbed to the mercy of unconsciousness.