The cold morning wind whispered through the trees.
Elena kept walking — each step crunching fallen leaves beneath her bare feet. The sun had risen fully now, casting golden beams through the thinning forest canopy.
But she wasn't burning.
Her skin didn't blister or peel away. There was only a faint tingle, like static clinging to her. It was strange — unnatural — but no longer painful. Just a reminder: she wasn't like before.
She paused, hand on a tree, staring into the distance.
> "That old man…" she murmured.
"Is he okay? Should I go check?"
She had watched him walk away after she attacked him, blood on her lips, guilt weighing her chest. He had walked off like nothing had happened. Like maybe he'd survive.
That hope kept her moving.
Following the same path he had taken, she emerged from the woods again — her village now in view. The red rooftops. The quiet lanes. The foggy distance of the German countryside.
Children were playing near the road, kicking a ball and laughing.
Elena froze in the shadow of a tree. Her instincts screamed at her to run — not for safety, but for their safety.
What if she lost control again?
What if she saw blood, smelled it?
But… nothing came.
Her hunger was gone.
The craving was silent.
For the first time, she felt like herself.
She swallowed hard and stepped out from the shade.
Her foot touched the sunlit road. Then another.
It tingled, yes — but her skin didn't burn. No smoke. No searing pain.
Just the chill of her unnatural body under the warm morning sun.
She walked closer to the children and, hesitantly, spoke.
> "H-Hey... kids? Do you know any old man nearby? I think he came this way yesterday…"
A boy turned to her, confused.
> "Hmm… no, not anymore. There was one, but he was found dead this morning. Rotten and stiff. Weird, right? He was totally fine yesterday!"
Elena's breath caught in her throat.
Her vision blurred for a second.
> He's… dead?
Her lips trembled.
She'd wanted to believe it hadn't happened. That maybe she hadn't killed him. But the boy's words were clear, brutal, innocent.
> "Okay… thank you," she whispered.
"I think I should go."
She turned to leave, legs shaking, but just as she stepped away, a soft voice called after her.
> "Hey! Big sister… will you play with us?"
It was a little girl, smiling at her, holding a ball with both hands.
Elena froze.
Play?
No one had spoken to her like that in days. She hadn't felt this… normal… since before her death.
Part of her wanted to run.
But another part — the human part — wanted to stay, even if just for a moment.
She nodded slowly.
> "Just a little while."
And so she played. Catch. Tag. Laughter echoed through the streets. It felt like she had never died at all.
But the illusion didn't last long.
By the time the sun rose high — nearly noon — her skin began to sting again.
The tingling turned into heat. Her breathing grew shallow.
> "I… I think I need to go," she said quickly.
> "Sister, wait! What's your name?"
Elena turned her head as she jogged back toward the trees.
She gave them a faint smile over her shoulder.
> "Elena."
And then she disappeared into the forest once more.
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