I was running.

  Running for so long, I was feeling exhausted. The adrenaline's effect was worn out completely, the stinging pain in the shoulder and thigh, very audibly informed me that the bolts were STILL embedded in my body. Stomach and ribs stung, constantly being moved with each step of the way. The physical exertion prevented my healing abilities from being effective, and only caused me more pain, as what was weaved back, I tore a second later.

  When I finally slowed down, Abigail was already asleep... or unconscious. I couldn't tell the difference, at least in my own state. To lower the girl down onto the forest floor, I had to focus really hard, as to not fall on my face. By the Divine, how much I wanted to just face plant, fall asleep and forget about the day. But it wasn't time for it yet.

  I've stood up slowly, looking over myself. I could see how bloody I was, with the gambeson underneath the mail, almost completely dark red and brown from the fight. But there was a lot of my own blood as well, mainly on the left side. I had only few abilities of a proper, undead vampire - but if I had to guess, the stench of blood of multiple people was probably like a smell-based beacon for any blood sucker.

  But I had to clean it all up. First was the bolt in my thigh. The projectile went all the way through the flesh, avoiding the bone.

  I've reached behind my thigh, enclosing my fingers around the little bit of wood and iron arrowhead sticking out, and pulled. The pain that shot across my entire leg was so grand, I wanted to scream, but I've found myself biting my own lips to blood, only letting out a muffled moan of pain. I noticed I was much shorter, when I involuntarily knelt down, very much regretting my choices. But it was only the first projectile. Thinking that if I'll pull the other one fast, the pain will go away faster. My hand wrapped around the wooden shaft, pulled on it, and I was left with wooden stick in my head, arrowhead still embedded in my shoulder, behind the chainmail.

  "Fuck... Why does it have to be so difficult?!" I've spoke while looking up to the sky. Truth be told, I was paying the consequences of my own actions, but it didn't prevent me from voicing my complains to the Divinity.

  What came next was the humiliating practice of taking off the chainmail by myself, pulling it up to my chest, bending over and attempting to slide it over my head while wiggling awkwardly. The broken links were piercing the gambeson and getting stuck on it, so the entire process took multiple minutes, of me trying to rip the metal shirt off my chest.

  By the end of the process, the bloody shirt had at least a dozen of rings ripped out, my gambeson once more ripped up. But this time it was still salvageable, if requiring a good wash and a bit of sewing up. I think I had a bundle of thread in my bag, but it was no longer time for casual maintenance. I lifted the cloth armor, alongside my shirt, to reveal to myself my midriff, which didn't look like mine.

  The stomach and a stop on my left rib had two dark spots, the size of the dwarven mace. The spots were almost black, but what looked scarier, was the fact that both were small spots, swimming in the lake of purple. My entire left side and most of my stomach were purple from bruising. I didn't remember anymore how strong were the blows themselves, but the constant effort to run away certainly didn't help with healing. I knew it would be fine in few days, that even a broken bone could be healed within a weeks time. But it still shook me to the core. No need to look at it, so I've dropped my clothes down my torso, hiding the damage and looking to the sleeping redhead.

  "What do I do with you?" I asked myself, looking around. I've run into the forest, away from the path. I was unsure if I could follow back my steps back to the main path. And even if I did, I could walk into the hostile group. I didn't knew their reach, goals or influence in the region.

  And then it dawned on me.

  The only reason people denied me being a vampire was me walking in the sunlight. But now I've went on a rampage, not knowing if there's any onlookers.

  What's worse, it happened on the main path. There's probably a dozen adventurers ready to pick up a quest to slay a unique vampire, and bask in the glory of defeating a monster, which probably will never appear again.

  I could defeat well equipped humans with raw power, but my hatred towards adventurers didn't come from just sharing the profession, but the fact they were more than just well equipped humans. Many of them drank potions, undergone risky rituals, or constantly consumed drugs that enhanced their physical abilities. And they could only afford those, thanks to them constantly risking their lives in search of glory and stronger opponents.

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  I've just become the main prize, in a race I've organized myself.

  My eyes drifted around during my little realization, where I monologued to myself in my own mind. But when I looked back at Abi, she just laid there, still in slumber. Whatever happens to me, she is unable to protect herself. I need to get her to safety and run away, before she would be caught in the crossfire.

  I've sat down next to her, trying to at least relax for a bit. I needed to rest as well, otherwise we'd both be dead before the next day. I'll only close my eyes for a bit, then get back to escaping.

  A deep breath, sound of crickets and leaves on the wind.

  I've woken up and immediately sat up, realizing it was late evening. I have fallen asleep immediately after laying down.

  Looking around, no animals or people. Abi still laying there, her chest moving up and down slowly - still breathing. I've placed a hand on her forehead and felt how burnt up she was. Time was running out, and I've been napping, my body betraying me the second it had a chance to rest.

  Getting up, I've gently scooped up Abi, not even bothering with the chainmail. It was time to pick a random direction and walk straight, hoping that I might stumble upon a road, path or civilization. Couldn't even go back to the place where I've fought - it all looked the same in the limited evening light.

  So I've walked, and walked. Bird's chirping and singing high in the canopies of the trees. A deer, with few doe's surrounding him raised their heads from afar to spot me. Their eyes locked on me, unsure if they should run or not. But in few seconds, they've deducted I'm walking roughly in their direction and started hopping away, not risking an encounter with a human.

  I kept walking, until the night overtook everything. The forest completely in the dark, yet I could see some details ahead of me. Now that I had nothing better to focus my mind on, I've tried to guess the rough distance of how far I could see.

  That one tree, the one with funny looking branches. It was about 200 feet away. Then something moved in the corner of my vision.

  I've looked over, to spot a pair of golden eyes, locked on me. It was a wolf, standing still and observing me, behind it a second - smaller one. No howling, no prowling.

  They simply stared at me, observed carefully. I thought they were judging if I was a potential dinner or danger. No other wolves around, no howling, just night going silent and two canines observing me. They were probably alone, without a pack. I wasn't a hunter, nor a tamer, so the behavior of wolves, and their packs was unknown to me. I simply had to hope that they were alone and kept on walking.

  So I've kept walking, checking behind me here and there. At first the pair followed me, keeping their distance. But after some time decided against attacking.

  So I kept on walking.

  The morning was loudly announced by a rooster, calling out to the entire farm that it's rightful owner has announced the new day. Zog was already used to it, so when the bird started making it's noise, he simply got up and started dressing up.

  His routine was simple. Go feed the chickens, then the pigs. Usually he'd go to feed the horses as well, but recently he have sold them to the garrison of Lord Otto's fort. Who knows if those poor animals were still alive, after all that smoke he seen coming from roughly the fort's direction.

  He slowly walked out of the pig pen, looked to the horizon, wondering what the day will bring. Then when he turned towards his farm house he seen it.

  An angel of death.

  A woman, no taller than his teenage daughter, but covered in blood. Her pants were muddied, jacket ripped and covered in brown spots - blood. Her exposed forearms scratched up, but fingers in faint crimson.

  Her mouth thought, covered in red. Lips, cheeks, chin. Some of it even dripped down to her neck.

  On her arms, a girl, unconscious. In Zog's hand, an empty bucket. If he fought, he'd die, like whatever she just ate.

  Then she extended her arms, handing him the redheaded girl. He dared not to even humor the idea of disobeying the silent order. He dropped the bucket and lifted the girl into his own arms, feeling her be heavier than she looked. But the angel carried her effortlessly.

  Now from up close, he could feel how the heat radiated from the girl, how red her face was in her slumber. He looked down across her body and noticed the leg. Her foot was dangling loosely, as if there was nothing connecting it to the calf. He treated some breaks among his animals and family, so he immediately spotted that it was a complete separation of bones. He only hoped that it was above the ankle, or she'll become a cripple. That is if she survives the heats that are overtaking her.

  Then the angel moved. Zog winced, but dared not to move away, too scared for his family, to dare anger this woman, who looked as monstrous as she looked human. She pulled out a small bag, that jingled with coin. Pulled three gold ducats and placed them in the bucket, still hanging from his wrist.

  And then she turned slowly and walked towards the raising sun. He watched as she walked away, and when feeling she was away enough, he started walking back home. Slow at first, but slowly picking up speed.

  "Maria!" He shouted, calling out to his wife. "Maria, wake up!"

  His wife was a love of his life, but she always used every single chance to sleep as much as she could, overstaying her welcome under the warmth of the blanket. But this was no longer time for that.

  "Maria!!" The shout that came from his throat, sounded more like a shriek, but the sound of something stumbling inside of his bedroom informed him that it worked. Whoever that woman was, she wanted the redhead to be brought back to health. And Zog was there to help!