It was a hunting party. Her father sat proudly on the back of the beautiful chestnut mare. In one hand were the reins, and in the other, he held a small, live, rabbit. This, he presented to his daughter, a lovely black haired girl, just over ten years. "Ma cherie," he said with a smile. "This is for you." The small rabbit was placed within her arms, and the girl gave one of her delighted smiles, a finger reaching down to tickle the creature's long ears. "Papa, je t'aime!" she cried, waving a hand as her father rode off into the forest with a couple of hunters. She was left with two others, both big burly men, trusted servants of her father. One spread a blanket across the forest floor. "Come and sit, little miss," he said, gesturing towards the blanket. The girl came and sat, softly stroking the twitching nose of her new friend. An hour later, darkenss fell over the three, and the two men made a small fire, awaiting the return of the girl's father. The girl was already asleep, curled up on the blanket. The rabbit sat chewing on grass a little ways from her. The men sat up late into the night, conversing in quiet tones.
"Shouldn't the master have been back by now?"
"Hush, we do not want the little miss to worry." The second man shivered suddenly. "It is cold," he said, covering the girl with a sheet. He smoothed her wavy black hair, and threw more twigs into the fire, sending up a few sparks. The first man rubbed his arms, edging closer to the fire. "This cold is unnatural," he murmured, casting dark looks to the trees around them. The other snorted, muttering something about 'old wives' tales.
"They are true, and you know it," the second man said sharply, stirring the fire, as the other rolled his eyes, and continued to mutter. "The stories speak of an unknown horror within this very forest -"
"That's the thing, they're stories. Fake." He snorted again, as the little girl yawned and opened her eyes. She peered around and kicked the blankets away. "Where's my bunny?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. The two men exchanged a glance and they made her stay down. "Hush, we will find him for you." The girl gave a sleepy smile, but she sat up, waiting. "Non, I want to stay up and wait.." One man gave her a fond nod, and he set off through the ever darkening trees, swallowed up within the ominous gloom. Stoking the fire, and giving a few yawns, the remaining man spent the next hour telling her stories and jokes. Although she listened with rapt attention, and giggled fit to burst, she kept asking him what was taking so long. "J'ai besoin de mon lapin," she said with a little sniffle, and the man patted her head gently, continuing with his stories. No one could deny the fact that he was worried. Surely if the rabbit was nowhere to be seen, he would head back? The raven-haired girl slowly went off to sleep again.
Snap, went the twig that crunched underfoot. The man gave a sigh of relief. He rose, and squinted into the darkness. "Mon ami," he called in a loud whisper. "Did you find the rabbit?"
No answer fell upon his ears. A faint hiss was soon made clear, and a stooped cloaked figure made its way forward. The man reached slowly for the pistol in his belt, eyes narrowing to squint through the darkness. They fell upon a feminine figure. He let a breath and put his weapon back, offering the figure a smile. She stood within the darkness of the forest, barely visible as she was wearing a cloak of the deepest black.
"Human." One word, cursed with the voice of hell. In the one second that was spared to the man, his eyes widened.. As the cowled figure streaked towards the little girl. Hood was thrown back as the wind pushed against her face, revealing pallid white skin. Two long fangs slid out from under her upper lip, sinking into the neck of the girl. A scream erupted from the girl, before it was cut off, head lolling to the side; dead. All done in less then a second. Revolting sounds of blood being sucked up could be heard. The man let out a strangled scream, fumbling for his pistol. As the figure stood, blood dripping from her lips, the bullet the man shot hit her in the chest. As much as it appeared that she was not hurt, the vampiress left, quickly swallowed up by the darkness.
For a few agonized seconds, the man stood, frozen. Snapping himself back to reality, he tossed more sticks into the fire, and rushed towards the girl. "Don't be dead," he whispered fiercly; he loved the little girl as much as a father loved his daughter. Shaking her shoulders, he only made her head roll to one side, eyes shut loosely. After a second's pause, he pressed his lips against hers; not in a kiss. Puffs of air were being forced down her throat, in hopes of reviving her. Pulling back for a breath himself, he glanced down. Her eyes had snapped open. Warm, glorious relief swept through him. Teary-eyed, he cried out, "Little miss, you are alive!"
The girl sat up woozily, unfocused eyes fixed on the man weeping with happiness. Eyes flickered to the pistol in his belt. With one swift movement, she grabbed the gun, pressed it to his head, and pressed the trigger.
Bang.