When I was three, I met a walking snowman in the woods. It was the dead of winter, when children should not be out and about. But the cold is always stronger than caution.
There are wolves in the woods, and they grow hungry in the long winter nights. The people grow hungry too, but people are less likely to kill you so they can eat you. Still, a child should not be left out to wonder in the woods in winter, much less at night. But we needed firewood, and I had lost track of time, digging through the snow for twigs that could burn. Winter days are so short.
He was tall, gigantic compared to how little I was back then. He wore a white cloak that covered most of his face, and a bright red scarf. In my nightmares, the scarf is dripping with blood. But on that night, I thought it looked cheerful.
I was cold. My brothers had given me a pair of mittens, too small for them now, but they were old and worn. My little finger was poking out through a hole, and I was afraid it would turn black and fall off like Uncle Joseph's toes. I kept blowing on it to keep it warm, but I was tired, and even my breath was getting colder and weaker.
That's when I saw the snowman. I thought he was a snowman at first, because he was all dressed in white, and didn't move. But he looked so much taller and more slender than any snowman I'd seen. He looked so pale, I thought he had frozen over. But he moved. He turned to look at me, and smiled. His hood was covering his eyes, but I saw the corners of his lips twisting just a little bit. And I smiled back.
"Are you lost?" I asked.
"No," he answered. His voice was soft like the wind. "Are you?"
"A little," I confessed. "Aren't you cold?"
"No."
He did not look cold. He wasn't shivering like me, and his breath wasn't forming puffs of steam in the air like mine. I thought that the air was somehow not cold around him. I must have been quite a whimsical child at that age.
"Aren't you scared?" I asked.
"Of the wolves?"
"Of the vampire."
I had heard stories. The stories grandma used to tell us to keep us from wondering out at night. And the stories the grownups told each other when they thought we weren't listening. Everyone was scared of the vampire.
The snowman did not seem scared. I wanted to be brave like him. I wanted him to know that I was brave.
"Don't worry," I said. "If the vampire comes, he'll want to kill me first, because children's blood tastes sweeter. I'll hold him off so you can run away."
A wolf howled in the distance. Then another one. And another.
"You shouldn't be out at night," the snowman said.
He knelt on one knee in front of me and raised his hood to look into my eyes. That's when I saw that his eyes were as dark as the night.
"Sleep!" he said. And his eyes seemed to engulf me.
They found me in the morning, huddled among the sheep in their pan. One lamb was missing, and father cursed to no end. But mother hugged me and cried and said she'd thought I was dead. Sometimes, in my nightmares, I feel two strong arms carrying me, and a soft scarf brushing against my cheek. The scarf reeks of blood.
***
I saw him again when I was sixteen. It was a hot summer night, and I had snuck out to look for wild basil flowers. Grandma used to tell us that if you picked the flowers at midnight and kept them in your hair while you slept, you'd dream of the one. I knew who my one was going to be. He was Daniel, the priest's son, and he was very strong and handsome. But he was older than me by five years and treated me like a child. It didn't help that all the girls his age were running after him. So I thought I needed proof, and that in presenting him with the hard evidence of my having seen him in my basil-flower induced dreams, he would have no choice but to accept that he was indeed the one.
I was no fool at sixteen. I had prepared myself very carefully, and rubbed garlic all over my skin before going out. Uncle Joseph told me I smelled like lamb stew, and I told him that I hated him. I'd give anything to be able to take my words back now.
The night was steamy and hot. Sweat clung to my clothes and dripped down the back of my neck. I had just attacked the basil bush, and was braiding the fragrant stems into my hair. And then I saw my snowman.
He wore the same white cloak he'd worn that winter night. It covered him from head to foot, yet he didn't seem to feel the heat. His face was half covered, but I could see his lips curl in a smile when he turned towards me. His scarf was as white as snow.
"Aren't you a little lost?" he asked.
I took a step back, suddenly doubting the strength of the overpowering smell of garlic that was enveloping me. I tried to be brave. I wanted him to think that I was brave. But I could feel my eyes bulging in terror.
I saw his nose twitching just a little. His smile faded away.
"Stay here," he said.
His voice was cold, and his fangs showed when he spoke.
I turned to run. One step. Another. And he was somehow standing right in front of me again. He lifted his hood to look into my eyes.
"Stay here," he said.
Sometimes, in my dreams, I run away. I make it home. I tell Uncle Joseph that I'm sorry.
Sometimes, in my nightmares, I hear the screams as I'm standing there in the woods, unable to move. Sometimes I hear the snowman whisper in my ear "I'm sorry." Sometimes I think it's a memory.
I stood frozen in the woods all night. It was only when the first rays of sunlight touched me that I could move again. I rubbed my hands against my neck, and felt no bite marks. I inhaled deeply the stench of garlic and thanked the gods for saving me. And then I ran home laughing. I couldn't wait to tell everyone how I'd met the vampire and lived to tell the tale twice in my life. But there was no one to tell the story to. And there was no home left. All I found were ruins and bones and blood. So much blood.
***
The night I fell off the mountain path, I dreamed of the snowman with his blood-red scarf, carrying me home in his arms on a winter night. Only this time, his face was singed and his lips contorted in pain, and he seemed much smaller and weaker than in my memories. And the smell of blood made me ravenous.