My family were Vampires, if you could call us that.

You see, we didn't need blood to live, but we could consume it. It was like an energy drink that some of our ancestors had gotten addicted to, leading our family to be ostracized and isolated in a small village in the mountains, lost to the rest of the world.

Not that we minded. We knew the sins of our ancestors, and we made do.

We carved stone, made art, grew our own food, and had each other to laugh with. Life was good.

We were constantly watched over by a group called the Society, though—they monitored us, checked in, and made sure we stayed in our little village. They were annoying, sure, but mostly harmless.

However, the newest member of the Society sent to watch over us had been getting on everyone's nerves.

He was frighteningly tall and wore a dark cloak. The lower half of his face was covered in a silver metal canine jaw, the top half in a black metal mask. He carried a large, curved sword, which hung at his side like a deadly reminder of who he was and what he stood for.

We called him the Reaper.

I didn't mind him much myself. He was fearsome, sure, but he never did any harm. He mainly came and talked in riddles. He especially liked to tease the children, tricking them out of their sweets and outsmarting them with mischievous glee, laughing at their frustration.

For such an intimidating figure, he had quite a happy laugh.

One day, as I was setting out the laundry to dry, I saw him kneeling before a kid, the child hesitantly handing him the remainder of his steamed bun.

"Excuse me, sir," I said, jogging down the small hill that separated me from them. "Do you want a steamed bun? I would be more than happy to give you one of your own."

The masked man turned his attention towards me, his lifeless eyes unreadable behind the mask.

I glanced at the sword at his side, praying I hadn't overestimated his personality.

"One of my own?" his husky voice hissed as he turned towards the boy before him. "Well, this one is my own. Isn't it, Jord?"

The boy gulped, his eyes darting between the two of us.

"Yes. It is his now."

"Hmm..." I hummed, unconvinced. "But it looks to me that the bite mark in the bun is much too small to have been Reaper's..." I put my hands on my hips. "Jord, did you eat the Reaper's food?"

"No! It was my food first! That's why I took a bite," Jord exclaimed fearfully.

"Ah, so why is it now Reaper's food?" I asked the small boy, feeling like a teacher breaking up a schoolyard fight.

"Well..."

"No need to concern yourself, Miss..." Reaper trailed off, not knowing my name.

"Miss Ivy."

"Miss Ivy. I simply made a wager with little Jord here, and the winner got a steamed bun."

"Ah huh," I said, still unconvinced. "Did you only make the wager when you saw he had a steamed bun you wanted?"

"Right, you are, Miss Ivy," the masked man said, smiling. "But it was a wager, just the same. Jord didn't have to agree to it."

"Yes, well. Anyone might agree to anything you ask when you carry a sword twice their size," I said, nodding to the blade at his hip.

The Reaper let out a laugh, amused.

"Why, I guess that is true. I hadn't quite thought of it that way."

He returned the bun to the little boy, who seemed amazed to have it back, with neither of us was harmed.

"You said you had a spare steamed bun, Miss Ivy? And what might you want to wager for it? My sword is not quite as tall as you are, it seems," he said, standing and looming over me despite my above-average height.

"I don't wish for anything."

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true."

"Nothing that I might win in a wager with you, which is why I will simply give it to you."

"Hmm... I prefer wagers. It feels like you're just giving me one to be rid of me. I prefer to win."

"Okay, then I wager that you won't be able to accept my steamed bun as a gift."

The masked man snorted in amusement.

"If I accept the bun as a gift, I win the wager. What will you give me since I already have a steamed bun?"

I bit the inside of my cheek, irritated.

"The reason you wanted to wager for it. You will have won, isn't that enough?"

"Hmm..." the masked man hummed to himself. "It's not." He turned on his heel and began to walk away. "Which is why I will lose this wager. Congratulations, Miss Ivy. Enjoy your steamed bun."

I snorted in annoyance and amusement as he walked away. My heartbeat rose into my ears. He didn't kill me now, but what if he did later? For disrespecting him? I didn't know him well enough to assume he wouldn't.

I looked down at little Jord, who was nervously biting his bun.

"Come on, Jord. Let's get you home."

______________________________________________

"Ivy, the Reaper left us notes before he left."

"He's gone already?" I snorted, grabbing the envelope addressed to me from my cousin John's hand.

Each time a Society member left, they left a few of us "notes," or letters containing a small charm inside. None of us knew what the charms were for. We always tried to decipher them, reading between the lines to figure out why certain people received charms and others didn't, what they meant, and what they could do.

"He was here for only a short period, but he told the Vampire Council he would be back shortly."

I let out a sigh. Of course, he would be back.

"Well, let's get this over with then."

My friend and I went to the village square, where a large fire was set up for those who received charms.

"Ivy, can you do mine for me? I'll go grab us some food."

"You don't want to do it?"

"Nah," John said. They always got a charm each year, as their family was tasked with housing the Society member. "It's not like they really mean anything."

I nodded. Unlike John, this was my first time receiving a charm. Even though I heard they weren't worth much, it was exciting to burn away the note to get the charm inside. I liked to watch each year as others did it. I was a bit nervous now that it was my turn.

I opened John's note and held it over the fire. The word "Home" burned away, revealing a delicate metal house pendant covered in ash.

I exclaimed in excitement, rubbing away the remains of the letter to reveal more of the pendant.

"What is it?" John asked, coming up behind me.

"A house!" I said excitedly, showing him the charm.

"Ah," he said, sounding disappointed. "We get that one each time."

"Oh," I said, turning it over in my hands. It was crudely made but still intriguing to look at.

"Have you done yours?" John asked.

"No, I—"

Suddenly, a scream arose from a side street.

"Vampire Hunter!"

Chaos erupted in the square, people running for their lives at the new danger. I quickly turned on my heel to bolt for my home.

A vampire hunter? There hadn't been one in generations.

As I turned down a side street to get to my house, I saw her.

She was wearing all black with a bright pink vest, her hair a tangled blond mess. Her eyes were blood red, possessed by the spirit of a Vampire Hunter.

I screamed as I turned on my heels, pushing John, who was behind me, to run the other way. We dashed out of the alley and parted ways, both desperate to find new routes home.

I turned to see which of us she followed, and selfishly, to my displeasure, the hunter had chosen me.

Her hair raged behind her as she rushed after me with a butcher knife.

I let out another scream as if it would save me, desperate to escape her pursuit.

I quickly locked the door behind me when I finally reached my house. Panting, I pulled out the note from the Reaper. Maybe it would have some kind of charm that might help me.

The hunter's knife struck through the door.

I opened the note, but instead of one page, it was a letter.

I couldn't read it in my haste, seeing only fragments about how charmed he was to have met me and lessons on spells I might be able to use as a reward for winning the wager. I would have been honored if it weren't for the knife repeatedly slicing through my door.

Suddenly, the hunter kicked the door, now weakened by the knife marks, splitting it in two. Before I had time to react, she lunged through the broken door, her knife raised in the attack. I let out another scream as she swiped at me, lightly slicing my stomach before tackling me to the ground. I reached up and grabbed the knife with my bare hands, the pain of it sending out another scream in desperation.

As she brought the knife down closer to my throat, I felt a warm splash across me. At first, I thought it must be my blood. That she had killed me.

Until I felt her weight fall off of me, her lifeless body collapsing beside me.

The cloak and bloodied sword of the Reaper stood beside me, but when I looked up, I noticed this man wasn't wearing a mask.

I had expected him to be unsightly, as I imagined most men who wore masks must be.

But he was surprisingly handsome.

He had skin the color of sun-bleached leather and tightly curled black hair cut close to his head. His eyes were big and brown beneath dark black eyelashes.

They looked down at me with concern.

"Are you okay?"

I let out a sob, curling in on myself to nurse my torn hands.

"Thank everything we made it here in time," John said, standing at the door, seemingly unfazed by the unmasked Reaper. Though I suppose, having lived with him, he would be used to it by now.

The Reaper bent down and offered his hand to help me stand.

I was so shaken and thankful for him saving me that I pulled him down, wrapping my arms around him as I sobbed, mumbling my thanks.

I felt him lightly lift me and pat me on the back.

"It's okay, you're okay now."

"We need to go tell the Vampire Council," I said, still panicked. "That there was a hunter."

"That's a good idea," the Reaper said softly, his concerned brown eyes meeting mine. "But let's get you treated for your injuries first. You almost died."

I let out another sob and nodded in agreement.

He helped me to my feet, and John supported me as we walked to the town's doctor. Fortunately, as I started to walk, the sobs subsided, and I heard the Reaper call after me.

"Miss Ivy, is there truly nothing you want?"

I turned back to look at him in surprise, not sure why he had asked this question suddenly.

"What do you mean?" I asked shakily.

"I mean," the Reaper said with a laugh. "Nothing like, 'I wish the moment the Reaper showed me his face, I found him handsome...' or anything like that?"

I laughed in surprise, the terror from a moment ago temporarily forgotten.

"Why would I wish for something that I already have?"