A young woman sat at her desk, her eyes cast over the lake out her window. A soft mist blanketed the water like storm clouds. The wind was subtle close to shore, however it grew more violent out by the old abandoned castle just across the water. Castle Sangmont. The towering ruins danced in the haze as if it was filled with life once more. It was merely an illusion. It had fallen some time ago, and no one could reach it now. The remains of the bridge that once connected it to the shore had crumbled away into the watery, yawning abyss. The castle once held the rulers of this land, just over twenty years prior they were usurped and almost entirely slaughtered— arguably deservedly. Now-a-days people call them leeches. Abominations.  But were they wrong? Those who came from the castle's grounds were inhuman bloodsuckers. They did often pick off the townsfolk to fill their goblets. Vile creatures, truely, it was a blessing they fell for the folks of Letcham.

The girl could not tear her eyes from the mirage of the dancing castle. She wondered about the place— she had since she was a child. How could she not with so much tainted blood in her veins? She wondered what life was like there; her mother had spoken of it a lot. The stories sounded as if they were fairy tales. Knights and nobles, balls and grand feasts. That was so far away from the life she and her mother lived now; now they lived in poverty in the most repugnant district of town, hidden behind boarded windows, locked doors, and solid walls. The  townsfolk never saw them in anything but engulfing hooded cloaks on the rare occasion they left the house. The girl knew well: they were not welcomed members of this town, most saw them as little more than vermin that needed to be squashed beneath their boots.

The sound of her father hacking tore her away from her thoughts at last. She closed the window's oak shudders and locked it in place with a barricade bar before she padded out to the hallway. She paused as she looked across towards her parent's room. Her stomach twisted with anxiety. She failed to realise she was holding her breath until the door across the hall opened up and she inadvertently let out a gasp. Her mother, Belle, slipped out of the room, she whispered something into the dark room she had left to her husband. Her wavy white hair had been pulled into a ponytail and tucked into the back of her cloak. Every inch of her body, bar her head, had been covered in heavy, oversized clothes to hide her sickly white skin.

The door clicked close and as Belle turned she pulled her hood over her head. She paused as her eyes met her daughter’s. “Mayme, is something the matter?” She asked, the dim candle light caught on one of her fangs as she spoke, it glinted softly.

“Is Papa okay?” Mayme asked, “It isn’t the…” She could not force the word plague from her quivering lips.

“He’s getting better. It’s just a cold. The plague will not touch this house.” Belle offered a gentle smile, though worry laid behind her sunken eyes. “We’re just running out of supplies, and I don’t know if we can wait until he gets better.”

“But…” Mayme trailed off, her eyes fell to the ground.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll just hang my head and I won’t let anyone see me. And I’ll bring Elisabeth, just in case.”

Mayme frowned and her nose scrunched up, the doubt she felt was clear on her round face. “If the wrong person sees you… Your skin, your hair, your teeth, anything.”

Her mother sighed, “I know. But we only have enough incense for one or two more nights. It has  been years since I was a knight for our queen, I can’t fight off those… beasts.” Belle choked on the word beasts, as if she didn’t want to call them that. Mayme didn’t think much of it, but perhaps if she looked up from the ground the trouble on her mother’s face would have her think about it a bit more.

Mayme pressed her lips into a thin line, her breath caught in her lungs. Those things. Beasts. Monsters. Truly, they hadn't been given a proper name. Each household seemed to call them something different, but through listening to folks talk as they walked by her home ‘beasts’ seemed to be a common word for them. The plague that loomed over this town was no normal sickness, it ate at people’s minds. It made them animalistic. Violent. She could hear them scream during the night, their words barely coherent. Worse were the screams that were not words, but screeches and howls. Luckily warding them away was an easy enough task. Special incense made and sold by the church did the trick well enough during the night, though one would have to stomach its horrific stench til daylight. The sun drove the sickly, rabid folk into the shadows of surrounding forests or hidden corners in the sewers making the town relatively safe and such awful smells unnecessary.

“Oh.” Mayme tugged at her shawl so it pulled at the back of her shoulders and chewed her lower lip for a long moment. She drew a deep breath, and trembling words tumbled out of her mouth. “Mama, I-I look far less tainted than you. I have a little colour in my skin and hair. I think it would be safer for me to go.”

Belle’s face twisted in distress. She knew it was true. Her skin was as white as a sheet of paper, and her hair matched. She had fangs and pale, piercing eyes. Her daughter looked far more like regular folk— since she was half regular folk. Sure, she was a little paler than most, but she did have colour in her skin. She even had light freckles like her father— and her hair was strawberry blonde. One of her eyes was that pale and piercing periwinkle like her mother’s, but the other was a very natural, boring brown. The perfect representation of her dual nature.

“I’ll be fine.” The young woman’s tone was unconvincing despite the comforting smile she sheepishly tried to put on her face. “I’m… I’m an adult now, I should step up for our family a little more.”

Her mother relented with a sigh, “Just take Elisabeth with you, keep her hidden, and do be safe.” She reached around to her back and pulled the ornate pistol from under her cloak. Elisabeth, as it were, was a gun. A gun given Belle’s late sister’s name. Mayme did not know the whole story, but she knew her aunty gave her life saving Belle and she knew this gun had originally been her late aunt’s. Calling it ‘Elisabeth’ was a comfort to her mother, so Mayme was happy to do the same. The firearm was polished and well kept, it looked as if it had just come out of Sangmont that very day.

“Yes Mama.” Mayme gingerly took Elisabeth from her mother’s hand. “She’ll protect me, don’t worry Mama. I love you.” She ran her thumb over the etchings in the firearm— words of loyalty to their dead vampiric queen— before she reached around her back to hide it under her shawl, tucked in the back of her corset.

“I love you too, darling.” Her mother put her hands on the frail young woman's shoulders and planted a kiss on the blonde bangs that curtained over her forehead.  "Be quick, okay?"

Mayme nodded slightly before she stepped away. She gathered a small purse from her room and debated putting the firearm in it. She decided she felt safer with it pressed to the small of her back, obscured by both her corset and long shawl. She gathered what she needed and arranged it in her purse and put on her cloak before she left the house.