~Cruor~

𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟒 - 𝑵𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒛𝒆𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒓

The streets of the old German town had calmed by this time of night.

Your friend, Annechien, was walking besides you, nobody paid mind by the college aged folks still outside, just like the two of you, being in your earliest twenties. "Are you sure you're cool with staying at my place?" she asked, a frown on her face. "It'll be fine," you assured her with a smile. "If you're that scared of being home alone, then i'd be happy to help." Your words seemed to comfort the brunette girl. "Even though the reason is stupid..." she trailed off. "Hey, you can't help the way you feel," you tried to assure her.

When you reached the old house, Annechien unlocked the door. You put your bags in the hallway and watched as she cautiously locked the door. Without saying another word, the girl picked up some of your bags to move to the living room. You didn't blame her, the family superstition had everyone in town on edge. The sun had begun to set outside as the tension in the house rose. "Maybe you should go to bed early?" you suggested to the girl. "You're right," she admitted. "I guess i just got paranoid after my uncle Karl died." You soothingly rubbed her back as she frowned. "I'm fine, thank you."

You didn't want to bring up the superstitions. What would happen to a person who died such a tragic death, coming back to murder their family. The whispering of the town greatly angered you. Only having met Karl a few times before his death, you found him to be pleasant. His soft brown eyes, messy hair and love for Anthropology. You'd be lying if you said you weren't charmed by him, despite him being a few years older than you. His passing hit you quite hard as well.

Standing up, you decided to make dinner whilst Annechien put the sleeping bags ready. Heading into the kitchen, you swore you saw something move in the corner of your eye. Peering out the dark window revealed nothing, but it only made you more concerned. A hand print left on the outside of the window had the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight. Part of you wanted to tell Annechien, but you knew better than to play into her paranoia. You figured it was just someone trying to play a prank on you. After all, news of the death of her uncle had spread throughout the town like wildfire. On high alert, you went back to preparing the food.

When you were chopping up the vegetables, someone slammed their hand onto the window right in front of you, causing you to shriek. The knife lodged into your finger and you cried out. It didn't take long for Annechien to bolt into the kitchen, eyes wide. The pale hand was still pressed up against the glass, and you could see the man with messy brown hair. He appeared to be in his late twenties and looked eerily familiar.

"Karl.." Annechien whispered her late uncles name. Immediately, she pulled the knife out of your hand and dragged you to the living room. It didn't take long for you to hear pounding at the door. "Find a place to hide," you whispered as you held your bleeding hand. Annechien had tears streaming down her face as she nodded, making her way towards the hallway, past the door that was slowly giving away and up the stairs.

 You couldn't go after her, as you heard the door break, unable to clean up the small blood trail you left, you hid behind a curtain that was placed between the wall and a cabinet. You gathered your wits, trying to open the old window as silently as you could. If you could just get outside, you could go and get help. The hiding spot you had chosen wasn't going to save you, seeing the crimson trail that led right to it. As you heard the dead man enter the living room, you softly tugged on the handle. With a loud creak you pulled it open.

It was now or never.

Ripping the window over, you threw yourself out into the front yard, The man ripped the curtains down. You could see his appearance now. Bites were taken out of part of his body. His once beautiful face was scratched up, his eyes white. Blood was dripping down his chin and he had rope burns on his cracking neck. His messy brown hair had dirt in it. "K-karl?" You questioned. You doubted the man could fully understand, but it didn't hurt to try. His gaze softened slightly, he easily stepped through the window as he looked down at you. 

"Nicht meine Familie," he said in a surprisingly kind voice. "What..?" you asked. He grabbed your finger, placing it in his mouth as you sat paralyzed with fear. You could feel him gently suck the blood out. Tears streamed down your face as you watched him. His tongue dragged over the wound, seemingly occupied. You could see Annechien creep up from behind him, wielding the pan you had put ready for dinner. Karl's eyes widened as he rose to his feet. "Onkel..." she softly said. The older mans gaze hardened, an eerie instinct seemingly taking ahold of his undead soul once more. Annechien swung her pan at him, but it didn't seem to phase the man, who grabbed her wrist, baring his newly sharpened teeth.

You threw yourself in front of the girl, shielding her from the man who seemingly had no interest in attacking you. You weren't related to him by blood after all. You grabbed him by the face, a daring action as his blood gathered onto your hands. "Come on.. snap out of it," you begged him. Karl leaned down, his forehead placed against yours. Glancing at Annechien, you motioned for her to run. She seemed hesitant, but obliged. "There there.. i missed you too," you tried to assure the man as you brushed your hand through his hair. Karl's hands shakily found your arms, yet you could tell his mental clarity wasn't returning anytime soon.

Either way, you had another problem on your hands.

[A Nachzehrer is created most commonly after , and sometimes from an accidental death. According to German lore, a person does not become a nachzehrer from being bitten or scratched; the transformation happens after death and is not communicable. Nachzehrers are also related to sickness and disease. If a large group of people died of the , the first person to have died is believed to be a nachzehrer]

[a/n: I'd like to write more about him, yes i'm done with the home invasion stories for now.]