The fog had always been the first thing Armand Cain noticed about Blackthorn.
It wasn't the kind of mist that rolled over hills at dawn or lingered like a memory. No, this was something different. It was thick, oppressive, clinging to every surface with a hunger that seemed almost alive. It curled around his boots, slithered through his cloak, and blocked out the sharp, unforgiving clarity of the moonlight. A fitting welcome for a town steeped in secrets.
Armand's boots crunched against the cobblestone streets of Blackthorn, the only sound in the eerie silence. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, the weight of it a constant reminder of his purpose. Witch hunters didn't wander into places like this on a whim. They were sent sent to end things. And that was exactly what he planned to do.
The people here whispered of disappearances. Four in the past month. Men, women, and children, all taken under cover of darkness. No trace, no struggle, only the eerie calm of a town used to shadows. Armand had hunted creatures far darker than the night itself, but something about this place gnawed at his instincts. Something felt wrong off in a way he couldn't yet name.
A figure appeared ahead, emerging from the fog like a wisp of smoke tall, elegant, her form moving with an almost unnatural grace. Armand's hand tightened around the sword, but he didn't draw it yet. She wasn't the one he was after. No, the one who lurked in the shadows of this town hadn't shown itself yet.
But the figure she was a mystery in herself.
Her eyes met his, glowing faintly under the moonlight, and a shiver ran down his spine. There was no fear in her gaze. Just curiosity, like he was nothing more than a passing stranger. Yet, there was something about her that unnerved him, a stillness in the air that made his senses sharpen.
"Lost, hunter?"Her voice was smooth, almost melodic, but there was a bite to it. A warning.
"I'm looking for something," Armand replied, his voice low but steady. "Someone."
Her lips quirked into a half-smile. "Then you've found it," she said, stepping closer. Her features became clearer as the fog parted pale skin, dark hair that cascaded like a river of midnight, and eyes the color of the stormy ocean. She was beautiful in a way that bordered on unsettling, like something too perfect to be real.
He didn't trust her. Not for a second.
"I'm not here for you," Armand said flatly, not bothering to hide the edge in his voice.
The woman's smile deepened, and she moved with a predator's ease. "No. But you'll find that you're not here for much of anything else, either."
Before Armand could respond, the sharp sound of footsteps echoed from behind him. He spun around, his instincts kicking in just as the first of them appeared the rogue vampires, like a pack of wolves drawn to the scent of fresh blood. They moved fast, too fast, slipping from the shadows with eyes that glowed an unnatural red.
They weren't here to talk.
The woman beside him didn't flinch, didn't move. But her eyes flicked from the vampires to Armand, a hint of amusement dancing in her gaze.
Armand drew his sword, the steel singing in the night air, and stood his ground. The vampires, six of them in total, circled him, their grins sharp and hungry. They were toying with him, waiting for him to make the first move.
But Armand wasn't one for games.
He lunged, sword flashing with deadly intent, cutting through the air. His blade connected with the first vampire, slicing across its chest. It howled, a guttural, inhuman sound, before collapsing to the ground. But before Armand could recover, another vampire was on him, its claws scraping across his back.
He grunted in pain, twisting to strike it down, but the creature was faster. It shoved him backward, slamming him into the stone wall of a building. The air left his lungs in a sharp gasp, but he recovered quickly, barely dodging as another vampire lunged for his throat.
He was outnumbered, but not outmatched.
But as the battle raged around him, something unexpected happened. The woman—the one who had appeared from the fog moved. She was faster than any mortal, her movements graceful and precise. Her hands shot out, and before Armand could blink, one of the vampires was on the ground, its head severed cleanly from its body.
The remaining vampires hesitated, confused by her sudden intervention. Armand took the opportunity to strike again, his sword cutting through the air. One more vampire fell, and then another.
But the woman didn't stop. She moved like a storm, swift and deadly, taking down vampire after vampire with terrifying efficiency. It wasn't just her speed it was the way she seemed to anticipate every move, every strike, as if she knew exactly what they would do before they even moved.
Armand stood, frozen for a moment, watching as the last vampire crumbled to dust under her unrelenting assault.
She didn't even seem winded.
The woman wiped the blood from her hands and turned to face him, her eyes glinting with an unreadable emotion. "You're welcome," she said, her voice colder now, the previous amusement gone.
Armand didn't know whether to thank her or to demand answers. "Who are you?"
Her smile returned, but it wasn't friendly. "I'm the one who saved your life."
"I didn't need saving," Armand muttered, wiping blood from his sword.
"Maybe not," she replied, her voice soft and dangerous. "But you were losing."
Armand didn't argue. He had been losing—his training, his instincts; they weren't enough against the speed and savagery of the rogue vampires. And now, here she stood, as though she were made to battle things like them. "Who are you really?"
The woman tilted her head slightly, as if considering his question. "You really don't know?"
Armand's hand tightened on his sword, but he didn't move. "No."
She stepped closer, the fog swirling around her like a living thing. "Then I suppose I should introduce myself properly. My name is Celeste."
"Celeste?"Armand echoed, narrowing his eyes. "You're… a vampire."
She smiled, and this time, there was something almost sad in it. "A vampire," she repeated, her tone thick with centuries of history. "Yes. And no. But that's a conversation for another time."
Armand's mind raced. Everything he had been taught, everything he had lived for, told him to destroy her. To see her as nothing but a monster. But in that moment, standing face to face with this being this ancient, lethal woman he didn't know what to think. There was a pull, an unspoken tension between them, something that made his pulse quicken.
"You saved me," Armand said, his voice quieter now, almost uncertain.
"I did," Celeste replied, her gaze piercing. "But don't mistake my actions for kindness, hunter. I saved you because you're useful. And you'll need me to survive what's coming."
"What's coming?"Armand asked, though he already had a sinking feeling in his gut.
"The same thing that has always come to Blackthorn," Celeste said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The thing that has been feeding on this town for centuries."
Armand's heart skipped a beat. He knew then that he hadn't come to this town by accident. There was something far darker than rogue vampires lurking here something far more ancient, more powerful.
And whether he liked it or not, Celeste was now tied to the heart of the mystery.
"I'm not trusting you," Armand said, his resolve hardening.
"I'm not asking you to," Celeste answered smoothly, her eyes glinting. "But you will, eventually."
This episode introduces Armand and Celeste in a thrilling, action-packed setting. Their first meeting is intense, filled with both conflict and a strange connection that sets the stage for the complex relationship that will develop. The episode ends with mystery, leaving the reader eager to uncover the secrets of Blackthorn and the forces at play.