Never make a deal with a vampire

Chapter 2: Bloody Vampire

My mouth opened and I was about to say "Who are you?" but then I remembered the last film I'd watched, where a man said those exact words and was then mauled by vampires. Not a good sign. So I decided on something more original.

"Oh I'm sorry, if I make a funny face and tell you joke, will that make you happier? I would hate for my obvious injuries to inconvenience you."

"You're being awfully rude to me, considering I'm the only one here to help you." he paused, and I could imagine him rolling his eyes, "Besides, you already have a funny face."

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, my skin searing with pain at the sudden warmth.

Biting my tongue to hold back a scream, I gave him the most sarcastic look I could conjure,

"That was so funny I forgot to laugh. And I don't want help from you,"

"Great, because I wasn't going to help in the first place. After all, what's the point of helping you out of my trap?"

It took a moment for his words to register in my brain.

"Trap?" I scoffed, "Who the hell do you think you are?"

His arm twitched and I got the impression that he was annoyed, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

I laughed and gestured towards my surroundings, "Try me."

"I'm a vampire."

There was a moment of silence, even the blizzard had calmed down to wait for my response.

"Vampire?" I whispered, more to myself than the man. "Ha! Whatever, if you're a vampire then I'm a du-"

I was cut off abruptly when something slammed itself against my throat, crushing my airway. Ignoring the fiery pain in my hand, I clawed and scratched pathetically at the iron grip around my neck.

"Do you believe me now?"

I tried to focus on the face in front of me, the face of the stranger who hissed at me, but inky black dots were slowly beginning to block my vision.

Just when I couldn't see anything and my fingertips grasped for the last thread of consciousness, the hand was gone and I gasped in the cool night air.

I heard a snort from in front of me and saw thick black boots crunch through the snow.

"Pathetic human."

"Bloody vampire." I retorted shakily.

I had always been fascinated by stories of the supernatural, especially stories of vampires, but that's all they were.

Stories.

Not real, breathing, living, walking... things!

The big black boots paused, then suddenly I was lifted from the floor by the hood of my jacket and a voice was hissing at me,

"It's no fun when they give up, run!"

Then the hand and the man were gone, but the adrenaline pumping through my veins still remained, urging me to run as fast, and as far, as I could.

As I started running though, the small logical part of my brain, the same part that remembered what made glass more fragile, was screaming at me 'This is what he wants! Running won't save you, it will only kill you faster!' It took me a moment to realize that it was entirely true, he was a hunter playing with his prey, I gulped, and I was the prey.

The sound of a twig snapping behind me in the forest just confirmed my suspicion, I looked over my shoulder as I ran and widened my eyes, letting my face show sheer terror.