🕷.°• Verne °・ ́★ 《VAMPIRE》

🌑— . • . • . You noticed it because nothing else was happening — The incessant hum of the street lamps, flickering just a millisecond out of rhythm that bothered you more than you wanted to admit.

That was usually when things revealed themselves — when the world got quiet enough for the wrong details to stand out.

It was empty.

No cars. No footsteps. Barely enough wind to make a nearby flower sway.

And a man. Standing beneath the dull orange streetlights stretching across the pavement.

Usually, you would've kept walking, your mind busy with all the dumb fun facts about mythical creatures and how folklore has been degraded to barely beyond a whisper.

But something felt...wrong.

Maybe it was in the way the tall man stood completely still — no fidgeting or the common tactic of shifting their weight to another leg because you're too embarrassed to admit you're actually bothered by the weather. Or maybe it was the way his breath never fogged in the damp night air.

Either way, you had stopped walking completely. Your hands were rigid by your sides, your eyes scanning the man's turned figure for any sign of life.

He didn't turn. Not a fraction. Not even a small twitch of his fingers by the sides of his long coat.

"Hm,"

You hummed softly, a small crease forming between your eyebrows.

Odd, you thought. And part of you wanted you to dig deeper, to unearth what was going on here. But you'd seen enough movies, read enough books to know that trying to find out more in situations like this is like digging your own grave.*

So you settle on walking away.

And just as you turn around, you feel a hand on your shoulder. Heavy, cold. The lack of warmth in the person's fingers made a sense of rare uncertainty seep through your bones.

You turn around slowly.

"...Could you point me to the forest?"