The Halfling Chapter 1: The Spotted One

Urging her feet to move faster, Lisara felt her heart pounding in her chest and knew that if she didn't outrun the Sulfr Paw, she would end up as the meal for once.

She cursed the half-mortal side of herself for always attracting danger. If she weren't a halfling, the Sulfr would never have picked up on her scent. She had been foolish to think that walking the forest at night would be safe for someone with her kind of blood.

Paws trampled the dirt behind her and a low growl sifted through her ears. A sharpness pierced her calf and dragged down her leg, and with a yelp, Lisara went tumbling to the ground in a heap of limbs and fur.

A strong jaw full of hungry fangs snapped at her face as she struggled to push the creature away. She realized her only chance at survival and mustered up her remaining strength, smashing the jaw shut with her hands and twisting swiftly until she heard the snap. Waiting until there was no sign of breath, she pushed the awful creature off of her and stood up on hesitant feet. Allowing a moment to catch her breath, Lisara looked down at the fallen mass of fur and fangs.

She knew what had to come next, or the rest would come for her. That did not calm her fury and fear as she clamped her lips around the Sulfr's neck, tasting the too-familiar metallic liquid surround her tongue. She only needed a small amount to mask her scent, and took no more than was necessary.

Standing up once more and dragging the body into a bush, Lisara made her way back to the path and continued on, wincing slightly at the pain in her leg.

***

Burnt wood.

The scent swirled into her nostrils before she even opened her heavy lids. Sunlight shone through the cracks of boarded up windows and what was left of the doors. There must have been a fire here, and recently. She had heard no sign of life on the rest of the farm, but listening now, a quiet rhythm of breath entered her ears. Grasping hay and pushing herself into a sitting position, she noticed that she was not alone in the barn.

In the opposite corner lay a sleeping mammal, weighing at least 8 times that of Lisara. Its legs were bent with hooves facing toward it's stomach, and its head lay on the ground flat, pointed forward like an arrow. Black and white spots covered its hide that rose and fell with each breath.

A Spotted One.

Lisara recognized the creature whose blood had fed many of her kind before. Before the Sulfr Paw, it had been weeks since she had last fed. Human food satiated her hunger as well, but it was far too dangerous to enter a human town in her current state. She did not trust herself after the incident months ago where she had almost bitten a child.

Maybe this Spotted One was a gift from the Universe, a sign that Lisara needed to continue surviving. Her pack was long gone and she suspected she would never see them again. It was too dangerous to stay together after learning that a Savior was hunting them.

They had all been so careful, but it wasn't enough. Everyone ate human food in the presence of humans, and only hunted animals far from town or in the safety of night, but somehow the Savior was alerted to their presence.

He had killed five of their own before they had found and handled him. Lisara had been on the mission and had witnessed the unwavering hate in his eyes firsthand. The pack all swore an oath to not feed on humans and only use animals for blood, but killing a Savior was not part of that oath.

His last words had been that others like him were coming for them. The execution was quick and mostly painless, much to the dissatisfaction of Lisara who wanted to hear the Savior's screams. The leader of the pack had made the order though, and their orders were to be followed. They didn't want to waste any more time than necessary on that waste of blood.

No one fed on his still-warm body once it was over. Saviors had been known to inject themselves with solutions meant to poison any vampires or halflings who tried to feed on them. Not that Lisara would have let his hateful blood touch her lips anyway.

After the Savior was handled, their pack leader had made the difficult decision to disband the pack. It was impossible to tell how many other Saviors would come after them if they did not move. But moving together as they had always done finally proved to be too dangerous. The only chance for their packs' survival was to split up and embed themselves in human society.

The survival of the halflings was especially crucial to the continuance of their kind. Halfling-human pairings would bear more halflings and pass on vampire blood. Their pack consisted of many halflings so perhaps integrating into human society was the key to their survival.

Lisara let her mind wander from the past and slowly come back to the present moment. The Spotted One was still nestled in the corner, blissfully unaware of her presence. It pained her to drink from an animal so peaceful, but one more week without a feeding and she would surely drop dead.

She knew that she would have to move quickly before the animal startled and attempted to get up. Severing the carotid artery in its neck should be the fastest way to drain enough blood that it wouldn't even have a chance to react. Lisara thanked the universe for the offering and quietly began to crawl over to the creature.

When she arrived at the head of the Spotted One, she could not help but feel sorry for it. It must have escaped the barn during the fire and come back for a safe place to rest. Its owners likely couldn't take it with them in the chaos of leaving their home before it was engulfed in flames. Now here, Lisara would be taking its second chance at life. However, she felt a small comfort knowing that she would be killing the Spotted One rather than a Sulfr Paw, who would not be so kind.

Giving in to her hunger, she sank her teeth into the Spotted One's neck, tearing its carotid artery. The creature's eyes flashed open for a moment before relaxing and closing again. Lisara fed quickly, wanting to make the creature's pain as brief as possible. She couldn't drain all of the blood or she'd risk a stomach ache, stopping when the dull throb of hunger had ceased in her belly.

Rolling onto the ground next to the great creature, Lisara wiped the blood from her lips and closed her light brown eyes in content. Now she wouldn't have to feed for another month at least, other than a bit of human food along the way. She decided that it would be best for her to go into town and get her leg wound looked at. Although she had accelerated healing, she did not know how to properly treat the wound and prevent infection. Standing up on steady feet, she walked toward the front of the barn and pushed open the rickety doors.

The air outside was fresh and smelled of springtime. A hint of ash and burnt wood lingered still from the fire, but the grass was mostly unscorched from the flames. Weeds sprung up in patches and a butterfly fluttered past Lisara's head. She could imagine the farm bustling and full of livestock and thought that it wouldn't be such a terrible place to live.

Distracted by her farmland fantasy, Lisara failed to hear the clambering of hooves through the green grass, racing toward her horns first. By the time she noticed and turned to run it was too late, the bull had caught up with her and intended to knock her over. The impact was immensely painful and sent her Rolling onto the ground.

Dizzy from the hit, the last thing Lisara saw was the bull reeling back and a truck door flinging open, before the pain in her head overwhelmed her senses and her eyes faintly shut.