Sunlight fills the sky as thorns and brambles snag his cloak while he hacks through the unnaturally formed thicket. Just beyond it stands a dilapidated cabin, which seems to be one strong gust away from collapsing.  Even when reviewing his journal, he could only vaguely remember it.

Date xx/xxx/xxxx:

Location: Sunny Grove, Cabin 

ID:  Vampire 111

Victims confirmed: Mother and child, murdered as they slept.  

Status: Neutralized

Wiping the sweat from his tanned brow, he flicks his sword to remove the residual foliage clinging to his blade.  Emerging from the thicket, he notices new cuts, scuffs, and tears marking his leather armour and equipment. The sight of this additional inconvenience irritates him more than it should. He can’t help but curse The Divine Goddess for his troubles. 

Yesterday, on the journey to Sunny Grove, his thoughts were filled with complaints, “'If The Divine Goddess had been more specific, I wouldn't have wasted months searching for The Vampire King and his General.’ And, 'If this mission is so important, why doesn't she just make it so? Can’t a man rest in peace?' 

Ever since his return, thoughts like these consumed his mind. At first he feared The Divine Goddess could hear his grumblings, but now he assumes she doesn’t care enough to pay attention. As he nears the cabin, his onslaught of grievances continues, ’Laugh it up you fickle bitch. Send me back in time, but don't explain shit! How was I supposed to know that a monster could have the answers to saving humanity and I shouldn't kill them? Fucking Bullshit.'

 As his knuckles awkwardly yet rhythmically strike the wooden door, he couldn't help but feel as though The Divine Goddess must enjoy his suffering to prolong it this way. Fighting his discomfort he calls out, "I mean you no harm, I'm just here to ask some questions." This pitiful excuse for an olive branch sounds strange even to him.

As though nudged by the wind, the door opens slowly after his second round of knocking. He boldly enters the cabin, the floorboards warping and creaking under his weight. The smell of decaying wood and mildew hangs in the air. As he begins to wonder whether or not he was too late, a venomous voice echoes through the room, "Just like you did last time, Sir Hunter?" A cacophony of chanting whispers follows.

The impact of a pouch hitting his cheek interrupts his response. The cloud of dust blurs his vision, as the powder enters his lungs. He feels an icy cold embrace and an insatiable hunger. Suddenly and only for a moment, he could perceive an incorporeal cord extending from himself into the room.

He struggles to convey his outrage at the sudden attack as his body fails to dispel the powder, "What GASP magic is this COUGH COUGH COUGH"

 "Call it a precaution, I must warn you against harming me, Sir Hunter. Your fate is now bound to my own." The sweet spiteful voice now distinctly coming from a creature dressed in white, Vampire 111. Others may find its feminine form beguiling, but a seasoned hunter isn’t so easily tricked.  He could vaguely remember that thing, a pathetic excuse for a vampire. It even tried to hide from him in the corner of this very room all those years ago.

 After a few attempts to catch his breath, Vampire 111 confidently sat on a desk covered in a mess of scrolls and tomes. He felt its gaze unwaveringly find his own through its sheer veil. It dawns on him that perhaps he wasn’t the only one who travelled back in time and he walked straight into its trap. His thoughts questioned the notion, ‘It can’t be. Is it because I strayed from the timeline? Perhaps that thing has mistaken me for another hunter?’ 

Not one for subtlety, he lays it all on the line, "I wasted nearly a whole damn year COUGH, why didn't you try to find me?" His voice was gruff and strained, but not even that could hide his annoyance.

The tone in Vampire 111’s voice suggests it seems to take joy in his struggles, "Why would I waste my time searching for you, when I knew you would come to me?" Its answer, seemingly coy, was filled with disdain.

An exasperated sigh escapes his lips, as he fights the urge to draw his sword. ‘This is exactly why I don't bother talking to monsters, it's best to just kill 'em…’ Brimming with snark and sarcasm he finishes his internal rant, ‘But don't worry, oh great Divine Goddess, I won't!'

Resisting the muscle memory developed over years of slaying monsters, he raises his hands as a show of good faith, "Listen, pleasantries were never my strong suit. So tell me, how's a monster like you, the key to saving humanity?"

 A pause, all was silent except for the whistling of wind through the cracks of the exterior walls. An unbearable silence, until Vampire 111’s breathy chuckle broke it. Shifting its gaze down towards the tomes and scrolls, as the pad of its finger traces over their spines and edges. Softly disturbing the long settled dust and freeing it into the air.   

Her answer, unexpectedly bright and teeming with pride, "I was on the verge of developing The Cure," her prodding became a little too strong, causing some of the tomes and scrolls to topple over and fall to the floor. Continuing, her tone turns icy and sharp, "Until you killed me". 

The corner of his mouth twitched, as a piercing glare that no veil could hide met his eye line. He covered his mouth to mask his smirk as he internally rejoiced, ‘Finally! Did you hear that you bitch. I did it! I found your needle in a haystack.’

 "I-I didn't know” suddenly a fit of weak forced coughs interrupts his flow, allowing him time to gather himself, he redirects the conversation, “but The Divine Goddess sent you back to finish it, right?" 

A sweet wistful smile spread across her face, she spoke as if reminiscing "I always said I wanted to feel the sun on my skin before I died, but…” Standing up, she began to stride away from the desk towards him, her chemise cascading over the tomes and scrolls that now populated the floor “no, I have not."

“I see,” now controlling his excitement, he attempts something he’s never done before,  "M-My Lady, is there something you need to finish your work? I’d be happy to assist you." 

She approaches him, and rests a hand gently on his chest, her coolness seeming to sap the heat from his leather armor and the flesh below it. As she glances up towards him her veil slips back, revealing a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach her beautiful yet somber eyes, as she sweetly asks "Sir Hunter, do you remember how you killed me?"

For the first time in his life, he felt a strong wave of guilt and regret, as he unconsciously shook his head, he answered "No, I never record the cause of death for your kind, just the victims."

Breaking their gaze with a furrow in her brow as her smile falters, she focuses on dusting off his leather armor, and chides him gently, "I can’t say I’m surprised." Her disappointment blatantly on display. 

A cold bead of sweat runs down his neck, as he panics, his thoughts racing ‘Surely, she wouldn’t be so petty as to give up on The Cure just because I killed her once. It’s not like it stuck. Fuck.’

As she walks past him, her veil continues its journey to the floor. Confused, he nervously attempts to appease her by hurriedly bending over to pick up her garb, "My Lady, please understand, I was only doing what I thought was right at the time. We’ve been given a second chance.”

“Please-“

 After clumsily gathering her veil, he notices that she’s no longer in the cabin. Instead she was walking barefoot outside, he could see their connection glinting in the dappling sunlight through the trees. As soon as she reached the opening, the sunlight hit her skin, he felt a white searing pain. His body, writhing in pain, was unable to control his sudden descent to the floor of the cabin. 

Her stifled whimpers echoing his own guttural cries. Ash, made for their biology, litters the air. Growing numb to the pain, he crawls to reach her in the light. He'll pull her back. He'll make her see reason. It's not too late.

Instead she reaches into the shadows to hold his face gently with hands consumed by embers. In a soft melancholy voice she whispers "How does it feel to die this way, Dear Hunter? Will you remember it now?"

" GASP Why!??" he pleads for answers, the pain making it challenging to speak let alone think, as his face contorts and his vision begins to fade. He could no longer see her face clearly, but he could feel drops of dampness which brought him hope. 'Please, let it be rain.'

In a breathy strained voice, she sobs,  "You never showed me any humanity, why should I save it or you?"

At last, the sweet release of darkness. It was a familiar sensation now, like diving into the babbling brook of his youth. He can see them, his family, they’re waiting for him. They aren't far, just across the way, and as he goes to swim to them he realizes the current is too strong. He reaches out towards them, but unable to fight it any longer it pulls him beneath the surface. While choking on water, quietly suffocating, a resolute disembodied voice exuding authority and clarity reaches him.  

"Again".

  He awakes, gasping for air in the bed of the Inn he found himself in those many months ago.