Another dream. Well, more of a nightmare. I remember it clearly. The 10th birthday that transformed me from a boy to a monster. Where I lost everyone, my parents and myself. I don’t want to relive the old human memories.

I wake up, still in my blood and wounds, while lying in the pod. I have no familiar crewmates to help me. I’m in a forest that I don’t recognize. My communicator… Err, phone is now missing. I have no way of figuring out where I’m at. I guess this is what happens when you press a random button without checking. Did I really black out from that? Oh, right, werewolf wound.

 I look up to see that stitched-up woman. Her black shoulder-length hair spreads out unevenly in frizzled batches, with a white streak tracing through her bangs. Her skin tone comprises blues and greys divided by the stitchwork. She stands half a foot taller than I, even when I stop hunching over. Her clothes are an uneven mess, with small ripped parts, some of which are patched together like her body. 

I see her holding a gun as dead bodies surround her. I get up from that battered pod, meeting with her as I hold onto my wound, “What happened?” Her eyes widen briefly, then, narrowing immediately, “I was attacked, and I had to defend myself.” I guess I’ll believe her for now. I look around the mess, watching the bodies covered in juicy, delicious blood. Blood that I can’t consume. 

“Except that guy. He was annoying,” The woman points at a particular man who seems to be losing the least blood. I ignore her last comment as my body craves nutrition. I call upon my bat, which flies shortly after onto my hand. I check my pockets for what I need to consume my daily plasma; however, I find nothing. Not even my wallet. 

“Where’s my straw? Do you carry one, lady?” I ask the undead woman. “No, why?” She responds. “I can’t drink my friend without my sippy straw,” I say. She pauses, eyeing the thing resting on my hand before replying, “Just bite it down or something. No one carries straws on their person.” Maybe where she comes from, people don’t pocket straws. 

Bang. My friend pops like a bloody balloon, further covering me in red fluids. The woman immediately shoots someone, presumably the killer. My daily plasma is ruined. It’s contaminated with human essence. 

My hands shake as I wipe around the blood, unable to get them removed before I flop onto a river of water. “What are you doing, you freak? We still need to find that Captain L’Arc guy,” the lady hollers at me—that captainly-hatted man. I forgot about him until now. I continue washing myself in the water, leaving my hair and clothes soaked. I jump out to shake off any water I can.

“Ugh, enough with that,” the frizzy woman comments. “Let’s get going, vampire,” she urges me as I patch myself with bits of my cloak. I follow the tall lady’s lead, hoping she knows where she’s going. “Do you know where you’re going?” I inquire. “Of course, I do,” She responds confidently. 

We walk for what feels like forever. We barely talk, only ever interrupting the silence to state the obvious: That we both are starving. I watch the trees growing ever so taller as we move forward. I think about any animal that could show up in a place like this. Hunting for them might be the right move here. Maybe. I still feel the stinging of the slash wound. 

“I’m not dying,” I muttered to myself by accident, failing to remember there is a person with me. “Huh?” The reanimated woman answers without looking back. “Nothing,” I say clearly. “You said something about not dying. Are you sure you won't be a deadweight?” She asks me, this time looking back at me.

A moment of concern in her eyes before reverting to a dismissive sigh. “I said I’m not dying”, I express in full confidence. I clench my wound as the pain spikes, retracting my sudden assertion. “Don’t think I plan on burying you when you drop dead, Star,” my guide comments as I look down. I zone out briefly, thinking about whether we should stop to hunt or hurry to find that captain. 

“Hello, Ms. Sable,” I hear someone speak. I look ahead, witnessing someone holding the stitched woman by gunpoint. This person is a lady in a formal blue uniform, similar to the captain we’re looking for. “Fuck off,” my tall acquaintance refuses to look back. “I’d appreciate it if you used kinder words around me. Especially, if you were to apologize to me for what happened on that ship.” The formal-wear lady continues.

“I have a vampire. Dumbass,” the frizzy-haired woman declares. I feel a thin cut through my cheek before turning to see 3 other individuals surrounding us. Unlike the lady holding my guide at gunpoint, their attire is much rougher, stained in brown and red. 

The one closest to me is a large woman wearing a stapled-together leather mask, wielding a chainsaw. Her eyes are lost in shadow beneath the mask. Then, there is the shortest among the three, a shoulder-length-haired man wearing bone-based accessories. He carries a small box knife with an uncontrolled stance, shaking as if he’s holding himself back from going at my throat. Finally, the man furthest away from me, who has the least dirt on him, and a noticeable lack of hair. He stations himself on a nearby log, resting with no weapon on hand.

“I don’t believe you’ve met the Texan Butchers, right? You don’t need to worry about them, just as long as you apologize to me and tell me where Captain L’Arc is,” The blue-uniformed lady elaborates. “I don’t know where he’s at, En,” my acquaintance responds. “Is that so? Then what happened to my boys while I was gone? ‘Saw quite a mess you made-” “She defended herself,” I blurted out. 

“Star… I’m glad we didn’t turn you over, cause this is such a perfect opportunity to remove a vile thing like you from Earth,” the gun-wielding woman goes off on me. “Kill him,” she orders the 3 as she continues holding the tall woman by gunpoint.

I spring backwards, barely avoiding a slash by the knifed man. “Sally, what are you doing? Rip this man apart,” the man stationed by the log commands. I hold myself together as I continue to evade any swipe of the woman’s chainsaw; however, I’m not in an ideal condition to avoid the box knife. Bit by bit, I feel the thin slashes. 

“I don’t reckon we’ve ever had barbecue of his kind,” The balding man comments. “Ugh, you don’t need to be racist about it,” the blue-uniformed woman notes. “I was more talking about his vampiric side. I mean-.” “No. Absolutely not. I know who you are. You were not excited by the idea of eating a vampire,” the nicely fitted lady berates the lazy man. “Oh my God, kiss already!” My tall acquaintance mocks the two arguing.

Cannibals, huh… I think about it as this goes on. I didn’t want to fight them, but they’re applying pressure on me. I always evade the chainsaw swipes, but I struggle to avoid the small cuts from the knifed guy. He slips past me every time I try to catch him. If I were not bleeding or not blood-starved, this man would’ve been stopped. As for the masked lady, I refuse to harm her.

I can’t help but think about why I used to consume humans. I was forced into this lifestyle until I quit. “So what is your excuse!?” I exclaim out loud. It briefly stops the masked lady from attacking, making her look back at the balding man. I feel a slash on my nose before I react immediately with a swipe of my hand, pushing the box knifer away. His body tumbles through the muddy grass. 

“Why do you all feel like you need to eat another human being? For what reason?” I exhale my visible cold breath. The balding man responds, “As if we need lecturing from a bloodsucker.” “At least- At least, I had a good reason! We were taught that human essence is the ideal nutrition.” I shout over in controlled anger. The balding man barks an order before the two return to striking me. My motivation grows slightly, however, as I avoid contact with the two cannibals, hopping great distances.

“I have more reason to kill and drain all of your blood than you have to dine on another human being. We vampires, don’t even drink each other’s blood. I quit that stuff,” I continue my speech as this ‘fight’ resumes. I feel myself hungering for blood, ironically. It’s easy to give in to your darker urges than what I’m doing. I’m hurting; Hurting myself by playing defensively.

“I wouldn’t even be mad if I die and become food. I’m just disappointed that this is normal for your three. Do you plan to devour your other friend?” I exclaim, questioning their loyalty to the blue-uniformed lady. The masked woman charges in with her chaotic weapon before I kick it up in the air. She immediately jumps up for the damned thing, using my head as a stool. The box knifer continues his barrage on me as this continues. The masked lady catches her chainsaw before missing me entirely with her falling swipe, getting it stuck onto the ground.

“It’s a shame. Humanity is a sacred thing, and you three lost it without care,” I finally finish my big speech. The masked butcher eventually pulls her weapon out of the mud, running towards me before I leap backwards. I briefly look back at my stitched-up acquaintance, who has been in a conversation with the blue-uniformed lady this entire time. The stitched woman glares at me, her whole body tense with impatience.

She looks back at the woman holding her hostage, “You’re right, I DO know where L’Arc is.” The frizzy-haired woman further asserts her voice, “In fact, he told me not to tell anyone. Especially not YOU.” The nicely clothed lady retorts, “You think I buy that bullshit!?” “Maybe. But if I die, then that information will go with me to the grave. All that information on Dr. West will go away,” She says out loud with this all-knowing smile on her face. Her smug demeanor emits, urging me to act.

She could be bluffing, but I can’t afford to lose that chance. I can’t keep playing things defensively with these cannibals. I need to act instead of this charade. I watch the two butchers rush at me as I brace for what’s to come.

I annihilate the incoming chainsaw swipe, breaking that thing like the worthless toy it is, in one swoop of my arm. I get ready as I raise the same hand, almost committing to ending it with the masked woman. I stop to see her crumbling under the pressure. With no chainsaw left, she cries and moans to herself, scrambling to pick up any remaining pieces. She’s no longer a threat. I feel awful already.

With this moment of hesitation, a sharp pain springs up in me. I gush blood from the back of my neck. I still have to take care of this box knifer. With full energy, I snatch him by the wrist before twisting it. He screams sharply, almost killing my ears. I take his weapon and crush it in one motion. Now’s my chance to protect that information.

At an instant, I get between the two women, knocking away the gun. “Are we done?” I glare daggers at the now disarmed lady. Picking up her own gun, my tall guide fires a bullet at the other woman’s kneecap, “We’re not done.” She falls, panicking as she looks up at us, “Wait- Wait!” “There’s no waiting. Give me everything. Come on! Empty your pockets,” my strange acquaintance ushers this poor woman. 

The blue-uniformed lady pulls whatever she can to satisfy the white-streak haired woman. There are many random assortments and valuables. I watch my guide verbally attack this poor lady, “Aw, did your captain not give you a better allowance than this?” I stand motionless, unsure about this situation. “Let’s move on,” I try to hurry my tall acquaintance before looking back at those other three. I still see they’re no longer hostile. “Give me a moment, Star. I’m not done-.” “We’re moving on!” I say with slight impatience. 

The stitched woman looks back at me with her narrowed eyes in silence. “Fine. Go fix that bleeding neck,” she expresses while looting whatever she can. I use parts of my cloak to stop the blood spewing from my neck like before. “Don’t be a deadweight, okay?” she asserts as if trying to remind me.

I hear mutterings from the cannibals. I try not to listen; however, something catches my ear. “Well, shit, neither of you are in good condition to even hunt a bunch of kids in this place,” the balding man grumbles. I stop in my tracks to ask, “What… are you even talking about?” The balding man stops himself from speaking, trying to steer the conversation away; however, the man whose wrist I’ve broken pipes up, “We’re in Neverland, man.” 

“And how do you know this?” I inquire. “We almost got them pixies, and they told us where we are,” the balding man answers. My tall guide chimes, blasting her firearm at the air, “If you keep yapping about this ’never’ land bullshit, I’m gonna make your deaths painful. You freaks sicken me. I don’t wanna ever see you three again.” She motions me to follow, “Come on, I don’t wanna waste precious bullets on those Texan freaks. I’m feeling super hungry, too.”

We depart from this place, marching on with purpose. I feel noticeably weaker than I was this morning. Those tiny cuts really did add up. I also remain thirsty for blood. Any kind. I watch the night sky, noticing a slight yellow sparkle from a distance. 

As we walk, I wonder to myself… Can I trust her? Does she really know where that captain went? Or… Never mind. I just need that slight sliver of hope. For Maya.