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The wind rustled in the trees, an uneasy sound to most yet a comforting one to Rody. After spending so much time outside hiking through the woods, the sound of sticks crunching behind him, the sound of rocks tumbling away from his feet, the feeling of the air skimming his face, was all consoling. A sense of familiarity when things weren’t going as they should.
Hiking was everything to him. He used to take his younger sister out for hikes when his father was around. Consumed by her father’s rage she too fell victim to DNA, a spiteful thing sometimes. Manipulation along with a longline of people who are easily swayed doesn’t do well together.
He could no longer take her on walks to get away, for she had also developed her father’s aggressive nature, although it was more through fear than anything else. Nonetheless he still left home. He always found ways to get out of the house. Whether it was phony school clubs or his part-time job. He always found a way.
Although this day was different. It started off normal, his father got home from a work trip so he left for a late night stroll. He left at 7PM, just after his dinner, he left without making a noise, any sound would make things worse for not only him but for everyone else trapped in that hellhole his supposed father calls a home. He slipped out without being noticed, yet his heart still beat fast, it always did.
He stumbled upon a different path, he wanted something different, for once, so he knows that everything’s real. He wanders for a while, he watches the sun fall and set but still has no urgency to get home. With no street lamps the forest seemed, spooky almost, in a way he’s never felt before. But he brushed it off, a scary forest was better than home.
He stayed out a bit later than usual, just watching the stars twinkling across the inky void in the sky. After half an hour of stargazing he decided to head home, as he inevitably has to do every time. But this time, he seems to have found himself lost? He’s usually got an incredible sense of direction, so for the first time in his life. He’s lost.
However he didn’t panic, his heart didn’t even skip a beat, he felt calmer, more relaxed, more time away from his father. What more could a guy want? So he keeps wandering, going farther and farther into the forest, until he sees a cluster of bats flying overhead.
Odd.
He’s never seen bats around before. Beautiful creatures. He’s always been interested in them, everything about them. He even got a bat tattoo when he turned 18. He followed them. Just like when he was younger, when he used to chase butterflies and birds.
After a while of running after them, they stopped and flew down in front of him. When he got a closer look he realised something was wrong, these were pipistrelle bats. They’re usually shy, timid creatures that avoid human interaction. So what were they doing? This disturbed him, he was frightened, even. It had the worst possible outcome, something he, or anyone else for that matter, could’ve ever imagined. A pack of vampires.
What were the chances? Rody wasn’t even aware that they were real.
He was shocked, frozen in place as they transformed into something that could easily be mistaken for humanity. But they had no sense of compassion or empathy, they were vicious creatures of the night. His neck was bleeding. His eyes wide in shock, a faint gasp escaping his mouth. He tried pulling away, clawing at them, hoping to get away, he tried anything he could to get away. But his pleads of desperation were in vain. For trying to escape just made it worse. His head went dizzy, his vision went white and blurry, his legs felt numb and then he collapsed, hitting his head hard on a rock as he fell. His fall happened due to the blood loss, he got sucked dry.
He woke up the next day, his head a daze, not remembering anything, not his family, not his love for hiking, not even his own name. The only thing he remembered was the horrid night beforehand. A night that will be engraved in his head forever.
The first thing he saw when he sat was a bird, a raven to be specific. It was weird, he somehow managed to remember the name of the bird, but not his own name. So he took that as his new one. Raven.
He stood up, swaying a little. And started walking. No direction in specific, he just, had this urge to walk, to run, to get away. And he did. He didn’t stop for days on end. After about 2 days of walking the hunger got to him. A bloodlust that got him on the verge of insanity. Blood dripping from his fangs, his eyes struck in terror, his hands shaking, sweat rolling off his forehead. He was turning into someone, something, he didn’t recognise. He stumbled forwards, his breath got caught in his throat, it came out as barely a whisper “…what have I done..”.
He kept walking, occasionally staggering. A voice whispers in his head “this is it” and he understands. This is where he’s going to live now. Where he has to live. He begins chopping down trees, with a frequency he’d never managed before becoming what he is.
He builds a small wooden hut, just something to keep him safe and warm for a while as he settles into the new area. Next he sets up a small wheat farm, not that he could even eat it when turned into bread. His bloodlust is far too strong for that. But so that he could keep a few animals to keep him going. He felt guilty enough killing the wild ones, it would make him less stressed if they’re his own animals because he knew for sure that he wouldn’t get chased by farmers for killing their livestock.
He decided to explore a little, after setting down into his shack he hasn’t really gone very far. As he sees the trees clear he spots a flowery field, memories flash through his head, moments between people he doesn’t remember, playing around in the grass, laughing and having a good time. He runs over, flopping and rolling onto the ground, laughing and reminiscing in the memories of a stranger. It gave him a sense of, nostalgia that he just couldn’t quite place.
It was odd, he was so cheery and ecstatic, but after the incident he was so wary, of anything and everything. Any little movement or sound made him jump, but for some unknown reason the feeling of being out in the open was comforting.