The hunter was nervous. Sure, it was normal to be a little frightened on such a chilly, stark October eve, the only light from the twinkle of stars and the full moon, but something made Shannon pause many times in her brief journey through the abandoned fields.
Once, farmers had lived here, but time had cleared away most signs of human activity. The small cabins that served as living quarters were falling apart (otherwise Shannon may have considered them her place to sleep tonight) and no traces of livestock were evident, aside from years-old tracks of cows and horses making the cold, slightly muddy ground irregular. The hunter knew that she was quite alone out here and that fact was what made her shiver every time she stopped to look around her.
It was the dead of night before an object caught her wavering interest. A great, swollen, vibrantly orange pumpkin stood squat in the middle of some faded tracks, and Shannon could see that it was perfectly smooth, not a blemish to be seen on the flesh or a fly buzzing over its surface. She was wondering whether she could find a way to take some of the bountiful fruit with her when she realized there was a faint shadow over it, and looked up to see something even more intriguing.
A tall pole of sturdy wood jutted from the ground and poked ten feet into the air. It was quite as thick as Shannon herself and two sturdy beams were attached near the top. And secured to the wood with frayed, mossy rope was what she recognized as a scarecrow, though far larger than any she'd seen.
Shannon blinked and inclined her head as she got a little closer. Something was unusual about the scarecrow that she couldn't exactly make out at first glance. There were no ravens perched on its shoulder and no flies settled on the patchy fabrics or burrowing their way inside for warmth. It looked almost... No, it couldn't be alive.
Her faint sense of fear starting to increase, Shannon abandoned the cross and pumpkin and started her way back across the field. She nearly tripped over an especially thick vine jutting out from the ground- and then stopped. The root had been flat before, why now was it tight? A few beads of sweat formed on her brow.
Shannon barely had time to feel another vine at her ankle before the limb pulled tight around her like a living snake. A startled yelp from the hunter cut itself off as she dove, wrestling her her pack for a knife to cut the enchanted length- and then another shot from the ground and wrapped around her wrist. Thrashing and pulling did no good as a third caught her other ankle and pulled even tighter than the first.
Just as her shock was complete, the mystery of the scarecrow was revealed. The creature groaned, the sound like the moan of a dying man, and then the ropes binding it went slack and it fell with an impossibly heavy thud to the ground. Slowly it walked the few steps towards the helpless hunter, each one wobbling and heavy, like it was wearing invisible weights.
Pinned by the thick, thorny vines, Shannon could hardly lift her face enough to clearly see the creature towering over her. It looked human-like, the face undoubtedly so except for the glowing red eyes and the inch-long fangs that shone in the moonlight as it bent down to her level. Fingers twice as long as the hunter's own held and caressed the tender flesh of her cheek and she shivered.
"What a pretty human you are, finding your way into my home."
Shannon said nothing, feeling the creature's hot breath on her face. She kicked the ankle that was bound less tightly in a feeble threat and felt another vine curl over her throat. It did not press or constrict but the contact was enough.
"It won't do you any good to resist," the creature continued, its deep voice huskier and heavier. Its face was so close to her own that Shannon could almost feel the tangled stubble on its chin against her own. Looking down as much as the vines would allow, she noticed that under the cloak, the creature seemed to be naked, though its thick, pale flesh was covered in dense, dark hair around the chest and lower. Shannon blinked, and felt another vine pass slowly by her exposed thigh.
Then, she had an idea.
"Hold on," she whispered, keeping her voice low, and the creature's smile vanished. A bit of wet from its exposed fang slid off the tooth and hit Shannon's cheek, but she didn't flinch. "Maybe you... maybe you don't want to hurt me. Maybe I can do something else for you."
A strange rattling noise came from the creature, and Shannon wouldn't have known it as laughter until the creature's voice was higher and friendlier.
"I said nothing about
hurting
you, little human. Is that what you thought I would do?"
"Well, I'm in a pretty vulnerable state right now," Shannon explained as steadily as she could, rustling her arms and legs futilely against the tightening vines to prove her point, "and you've got fangs like a thousand-year-old vampire. You're hungry, I can tell, and I'm just soft flesh and warm blood, totally helpless in your grasp."