I must say, I never believed the stories the village elders used to tell. Those whispers about haunted forests, shadows crawling between the trees, and forgotten castles that still breathed despite being empty.

They were tales meant to keep us close to the fire, under a roof, away from the mist and the woods. But now… I wish I had paid more attention to what I once thought were harmless children’s stories or simple, truthless legends.

It all began with something simple, something ordinary. A small walk. That day, I needed to clear my exhausted mind, to get away from the constant pressure of a life I never had the option to choose. I grabbed my backpack, some food, and headed into the forest along the path that circles the lake. I had walked there many times before. I knew it… or at least, that’s what I thought.

But that day, something was different… more sinister than usual. The sky was covered with gray clouds, like a warning of imminent danger. The wind wasn’t blowing, and yet the leaves crunched under my feet as if someone else were walking behind me, following me. I convinced myself it was paranoia—maybe I really was missing a screw. I kept moving forward and forced myself not to look back.

The first thing I noticed was that the trees… all looked the same. Tall, thick trunks, covered in moss and fungi. Their intertwined branches formed dark tunnels, as if the forest itself wanted to swallow me.

I tried to remember the usual landmarks, but none of them were there. The split rock, the carved tree, the small stream with fish. Nothing. I took the map out of my backpack, one of those tourist ones they hand out at this time of year.

It was wrinkled, wet in one corner. I looked at it, turned it, frowned, even tilted my head. It didn’t match what was in front of me. I checked my phone, hoping to at least see an online map. No signal. Of course.

The sky growled with a distant thunder that illuminated everything for a moment. And then the rain began. Not a drizzle—it was a sudden downpour, cold as if the forest itself were crying.

I ran, aimlessly, dodging roots and branches, tripping every ten steps or even less. Mud clung to my boots, and my jacket didn’t last five minutes before becoming completely soaked.

Then I tripped again, and during one of those falls, I hurt my knee. Nothing serious, but enough to make me limp. I dragged myself to a tree, panting. I was soaked, trembling. Water ran down my neck, through my hair, dripping from my eyelashes and even stinging my eyes—definitely not helpful in my situation.

I closed my eyes. I wanted to cry. And then I saw it.
Between the trees, something that didn’t belong… something that stood out. A silhouette. Not human. Tall, symmetrical, made of stone and iron. I pushed myself up with difficulty and walked toward it. What I saw left me speechless.

A castle.

It emerged from the mist like a memory from another era… its worn-down walls showed the weight of years. It was tall, majestic, covered in ivy and mold. The towers rose into the gray sky like broken needles, and the dark windows seemed to watch me.

The main gate was forged iron, decorated with symbols I didn’t recognize… apparently my history classes weren’t going to help me here. Without thinking, I touched the door.

A metallic creak opened it just a few centimeters. I hesitated, of course. I could keep searching for help… or go inside and take the risk. I looked behind me: only trees. Endless, identical, unyielding… grim. I swallowed hard—at least the inside would be warmer… and less wet, I thought, pushing the heavy door.

To my disappointment, the interior was even darker than the outside. I was greeted by an enormous hall, with columns covered in cobwebs, carpets worn by time, deteriorated, and a silence so dense it felt solid—broken only by the drops falling from my clothes onto the floor.

It seemed like no one had walked there in centuries… and yet, something told me I wasn’t completely alone. I stepped forward cautiously—my footsteps echoed too loudly. Instinctively, I turned on my phone’s flashlight, though the battery was in red, nearly dead.

I swept the light across the place: extinguished chandeliers, broken mirrors, portraits of people no one remembered and whom I certainly didn’t recognize. And then—a sound.

Something fell behind me.
I spun around. A chandelier had come loose from the ceiling, crashing onto the floor. My heart pounded.

"H-Hello?" I called. "Is… is someone there?"
Silence.

And then… I felt her.
A presence.
No footsteps. No creaking of the rotten wood floor. She was simply… there.

On the upper floor, standing by the railing. The figure of a woman, tall, poised, dressed in black with violet accents and a choker holding a gemstone. Her long hair fell like liquid silver over her shoulders.

I didn’t see her move, but I blinked… and suddenly she was descending the stairs.
She wasn’t walking. She was floating. She made no sound—not even the slightest breath in that overwhelming silence.

I froze. Every part of me screamed to run, to do something, to get out of there and never look back. But I couldn’t move. Something in her eyes… red, glowing, like embers that devoured everything… held me with an invisible force.

“Are you lost, human?” she asked.
Her voice was soft, almost melancholic, like an ancient echo trapped within the walls. A shiver crawled down my spine—her voice cut through the silence like a knife.

“I-I… yes,” I stammered. “The storm trapped me…” I said, embarrassed.

She approached. Her skin was so pale it seemed translucent. Her dress floated slightly, as if the air itself bowed to her.

She didn’t smile. No emotion showed on her face. She just watched me.

“This place is not for you,” she said. “Here, only memories… and the dead… reside.”

I stepped back. Then again. And then I ran—ran as fast as I could, or as fast as my injured ankle allowed.

But I didn’t get far.
In an instant, she was in front of me. I didn’t see her move—didn’t see when she did it. It was as if the air carried her. Her hand closed around my neck. She wasn’t squeezing, but her grip was as firm as marble, as cold as ice.

Then she lifted me off the ground with terrifying ease.
“Do you know what I am?” she murmured.

I nodded slowly as her fangs peeked from behind her lips.
“V-vampire…” I managed to whisper.

She nodded. A faint smile curved her mouth.

“I don’t usually feed on intruders. They’re dirty, they lie, and they scream too much for my taste.” She leaned towards my neck with a slowness that froze me to my core. “But you… you smell different.”

“P-Please!” I choked out. “Don’t kill me! I—I’ll give you my blood! Voluntarily!”

I blurted it out on pure impulse—I’d always been impulsive, and once I noticed what I’d said, it was already too late.

Silence. Heavy, eternal.

Her eyes locked onto mine, as if searching for something beyond fear.

“Voluntarily?” she repeated.

I nodded quickly, tears mixing with the rain dripping from my hair. I didn’t know why I said it. Maybe because I didn’t want to die. Maybe because something about her… fascinated me.

She released me suddenly.
I fell to my knees, gasping. She stepped away, moving with supernatural grace. She walked to a pedestal covered in dust. She opened it, revealing a thick, leather-bound book—worn but almost intact.

“It’s been centuries since I last signed a blood contract,” she said. “Humans no longer know how to negotiate.”

“Blood… contract?” I asked, still trembling from the ordeal. When she didn’t answer, I asked again. “Wh-What is that?”
Nothing. Only more heavy, suffocating silence.

She opened the book carefully, and with one of her nails, cut the tip of her finger. A crimson drop fell onto the blank page. Then she handed me a quill.

“Your blood must seal it. Only then is it valid.”

I trembled as I stood and slowly took the quill. The tip cut my finger with an almost painless, invisible motion—as if the book had guided it itself. I flinched, but still… I signed.

My name, Aira, appeared in a vivid, clean, firm stroke… and then faded in a red glow.

“At every full moon, you shall surrender part of your blood,” she recited. “In exchange… you will live.”

I swallowed hard. “Is… is that all?”

“For now.” she replied, taking the quill back.

She closed the book with a heavy thud. Then walked into the shadows, as if my presence no longer mattered.

I hesitated, then asked, despite everything, “What’s your name?”

She froze. Closed her eyes, as if debating whether to answer.
“Velmira.” she finally said, before vanishing into the dark halls without a trace.

I stayed there, alone, in a castle seemingly outside the current time. The echo of her voice still vibrated on the walls, and my body trembled… not only from the cold, but from the certainty that I had just sold something far more valuable than my blood… something that would cost me dearly.

I did not know it yet… but that day, deep in the forest where echoes of the past whispered, where the light filtered through the leaves and only shadows remained, I signed a pact… one that, from that very moment, would change my destiny forever.