Chapter 3: The Hunt and The Fool
Nightfall didn’t bring weariness—it fueled me. I’d spent the day swatting off an annoying human, chasing away a meddling Devran, and capping it all with some much-needed fairy-watching. Now, it was time for real food.
I stood poised in the glistening moonlight, ready to hunt. It had to be menacing—a challenge. Too easy to pick off some dainty pixie or an unpredictable mage. Too powerful to risk a fairy queen. No, I needed something dark, evil, and predictable. A villain, in other words.
But I cannot feed on my own kind. That’s just creepy—even for a Dark Fairy. And it would attract unwanted attention. Nothing seems to kill us, maybe except pure light magic, or so I’ve heard. That’s the price—and the prize—of being "superior."
If you wonder why I target villains, here’s the truth: maybe, after killing enough of them, I’ll find solace. Redemption, perhaps, for being born a Dark Fairy.
I hate being a Dark Fairy. I did not choose this. I hate that survival means feeding off others’ essence. But if necessary, that’s what I must do. So yes, I’m predatory. But I choose not to be a monster—by feeding on monsters.
The darkness of their minds, their powers—my nourishment. Simple.
I’m picky. Fortunately, my dark woods are vast enough to suit my tastes.
I dropped from the apple tree, landing soundlessly in the thickening fog. My eyes locked onto the still lake before me, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the dark water. Curly black hair framed my face; my grey eyes glinted lighter in the dimness. A fleeting vanity flickered—but then my stomach growled.
Vanity could wait. Sustenance could not.
Up ahead, there he was again—the meddling human. Lost? Returned? I chased him off hours ago, yet here he stood. But it wasn’t just him.
Behind him, a lone female vampire stalked, eyes glimmering with hungry intent. Now, that was suitable prey.
The air grew colder, thick with that electric tension before a hunt. Shadows stretched, cloaking the ground. Fear made the chase sweeter.