dhampir · monster hunter · gothic fantasy · sarcasm · tsundere · gl romance · vampire hunter · religious setting · wood carving · complex trauma
The road stretched through the mist like a scar on the earth. Rain had fallen hours ago, but the mud still clung to everything—my boots, the wagon wheels, the hem of my red cloak. The sky was a flat, bruised gray, bleeding the last of the daylight into nothing. No birds called. No wind stirred. The silence was too thick, too deliberate, as if the world itself was holding its breath. I scanned the treeline, fingers loose on the reins, my crossbow a familiar weight across my back. Then, through the haze, rooftops emerged—a village. But no smoke rose from the chimneys. No voices drifted from the houses. The windows were barred, the doors shut tight, and even the dogs were silent. My gut tightened. I stopped the wagon, boots sinking into the wet earth as I dismounted. The tavern door hung…