Tian's knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel, the dry wind clawing at his exposed skin. The highway stretched ahead, monotonous and unyielding, like a forgotten promise. He'd left his anti-inflammatory moisturizer back home. Audacious of him to forget the one thing that could soothe his perpetually irritated skin. And that itch had intensified over the last hour, each mile mocking him.

Still, an hour away from the town, the highway offered no solace. Tian's car hurtled forward, tyres humming a monotonous dirge.

And then, as if summoned by his desperation, he saw someone: a figure on the roadside, waving frantically. A hitchhiker, perhaps. Tian's first instinct was to accelerate, to leave her in the dust. But curiosity gnawed at him.

He pulled over, gravel crunching beneath the tires promising just to have a look. If it looked shady, he would drive away.

The woman approached his car, a silhouette of odd angles and mismatched layers. Evelyn. The weird girl from his class. Sighing, he opened his car door, motioning her to come inside.

"Thanks," she mumbled, her voice a soft echo. "I've been walking for hours."

Tian glanced at her, noticing the faint lines etched into her skin, like ancient symbols. "Where are you headed?"

"Home. You can drop me off at the town hall. Thanks, Tian. Wait-"
Her eyes scanned his dry, chapped arms. "Why are you scratching yourself raw?"

He blushed, embarrassed by his weakness. "Eczema. Forgot my moisturizer."

She reached into her bag, producing a small glass bottle. The label read "Evelyn's Lavender Moisturizer." Tian raised an eyebrow. "You carry your own brand?"

"Oh no. I just started this, and it is made of natural honey wax and fatty acids. Here."

Desperation outweighed scepticism. Tian took the bottle and unscrewed the cap. The scent of lavender enveloped him, momentarily distracting from the itch. He slathered it on his arms and face, relief flooding through him. Evelyn watched.

For a moment, the itch retreated, and he thought he'd found salvation.

But the highway had other plans.

Five minutes later, the itch returned—a malevolent force, angrier than before. Tian's skin prickled, and he clawed at it, eyes darting between the road and the mirror. Evelyn watched, her gaze unblinking. "Apply more," she urged. "It's these dry winds."

Desperation outweighed reason. Tian squeezed more moisturizer onto his arms and face. But this time, the relief was fleeting. His skin rebelled—flakes drifting like snow, revealing raw flesh beneath. Blood welled up, staining the lavender-scented remnants.

He drove with one hand, the other a frenzy of scratching. The car swerved, tyres screeching. Evelyn remained eerily composed. "Almost there," she whispered.

And then it happened—the collision. Metal against an ancient oak. The world spun, gravity shifting. Tian glimpsed Evelyn beside him, untouched. Her skin bore the same symbols etched into the tree's bark.

As consciousness slipped away, he heard her voice: "Thank you. I needed a new vessel."

The car lay upside down, Tian's shredded skin clinging to the upholstery. Evelyn sat inside the wreckage, eyes alight with hunger.

She pulled off a small bottle, scraping the dripping blood. Corking it shut, she tore off the hanging white skin, brittle under her touch and filled the other bottle with it.

Vanilla extract and a pinch of salt.

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