> How long has it been since you’ve been back to this abandoned home?
> Not since that prick van Helsing tried to shank your mom you wager.
> Still, the old cottage still seems to hold onto its charm despite the fact that all the windows are black with soot.
> The townsfolk warned you not to come here. 
> “It’s dangerous you’ll die” blah blah blah blah you thought to yourself.
>The fools didn’t even realize they were staring death in the face as they were spouting there hateful rhetoric.
> Nevertheless you were home, but how long you would stay depends entirely on the next couple of minutes.
> The entrance door groaned and seemed to fight against you as you opened it, letting what must’ve been the first fresh air in decades wafted into the empty foyer.
> No sooner had you cleared the doorway the slab shut harshly behind you.
> The only light came from a small hole in the ceiling above.
> Although you didn’t need it they did give the room quite the atmosphere.
> You thought of the fun memories and laughs that you had in this once opulent cottage. 
> Now it seems the spiders and dredge rats have seen fit to claim this once majestic home as theirs.

> You drop the bag that you were carrying over your shoulder to the ground, kicking up dust and causing an echo that seems to shake the very foundation of this decrepit homestead.
> You did it on purpose, you wanted to be heard.
> Although you can’t see her, not yet anyway; you definitely know she is aware of an intruder in her home.
> and she was never one for company.
> Nevertheless, you climb the rotting staircase, leaving the bag where it fell
>Your waistcoat dusting the steps behind you as you ascend 
> Normally you would be silent in your movements.
> A trait browbeat into you by your predecessors
> But now is not the time for the prim and proper protocols of court.
> You are home and you’ll be as loud as you damn well please. 
> To be honest, you don’t know why she sent you away to that accursed Academy.
> That book thumping witch barely knew anything about what it was to be… You.
> You could barely tolerate her inquisitiveness; much less that snooping familiar of hers.
> The whole damn town was nothing more than a constant headache for you.
> Well, except that cannibalistic baker.
> You chuckle to yourself, thinking about how you wouldn’t mind putting a meat bun in her oven.
> Then of course there was the enchantress seamstress. 
> Weaving the hairs and by extension the soul of her victims into her many garments, much like the one you were wearing now.
> A parting gift from her as she claimed as gratitude for your temporary but nevertheless gratifying internship.
> She was far too easy to bed.
> Mayhaps you will call upon her services again… One day.

> Reaching the summit.  You spot the very familiar white door on the far end of the decrepit hallway.
>Of course she’d keep her space clean.
> No sense in cleaning the whole house when you’re the only one in it huh?
> The air is considerably colder now.
> The absence of any cobwebs or rat droppings speaks to the dark presence you begin to feel as you make your way down the hallway.
> You only stopped once you reach the open door to what was once your bedroom.
> To your surprise it’s actually well-kept.
> Not to your standards but that may change.
> You opt to look into the room more closely later as you continue your trek.
> After what you realized was minutes of you walking you realize your error.
> You are not getting any closer to the door.
> In fact you realize when you turn around that you’ve gone no further than your old room despite the fact that you know you’ve passed several doors.
> You Slap yourself mentally
> One of her many tricks to keep outsiders out.
> And you in when you were a more adventurous youth
> Through past trials and errors managed to figure out this little number quite easily
> You levitate just barely off the ground and begin to drift forward. 
> The walls seem to growl at your insolence.
> But she was never one to cast more illusionary magic.
> She never needed to.
> The common hunter would usually fail here.
> Well, except for that asshole van Helsing, clever prick. 
> Soon enough you make it to the white door and phase through It as if it weren’t there

> Now here’s the place you remember.
> Such a huge open space that seems to exist within its own dimension.
> The dark presence here is suffocating now. 
> Well it would be if you weren’t you.
> This bedroom is just the way you remember it one small exception.
> She isn’t here. 
> Which is bullshit, she’s always here. 
> You don’t move from your spot but your eyes scan the room for any signs of movement. 
> It’s, unnaturally still here. 
> Even the candlelight does not flicker.
> You slowly reach your hand into the inside pocket of your waistcoat.
> Inside you grasp one of many small potion bottles and hold steady.
> He stares straight ahead at the bed.
> To the untrained eye it would be invisible but you notice it now.
> The faintest movement of air.
> Quick as a whip you withdraw your hand holding the small potion bottle, popping the lid and flinging it towards the bed at an inhuman speed
> The red liquid contained within seems to splash upon an invisible object.
> But it quickly covers the silhouette, of her. 
> It covers everything but her head which is still invisible.
> Then, a slimy tongue seems to appear from nowhere to greedily lap up the red liquid that splashed upon its body
> You approach casually as she is seemingly distracted by her task. 
> You push her onto the bed getting between her legs and gripping both her hands as she begins to thrash.
> You take bottle after bottle from your coat and force its contents into her mouth.
> Soon enough, her thrashing lessens to a struggle until finally, she stops resisting.
> She lays beneath you completely calm with her eyes closed and her mouth hanging open as if expecting more.

> “Hello mother,” you greet plainly.
> Her tongue lazily slips back into her mouth as she opens her eyes were feeling the familiar bright red tints of her pupils. 
> “My boy, my sweet precious boy.” She coos.
> You release her hands. Knowing now that she’s calm enough to interact with and she instantly begins poking and stroking your face delicately.
> “Have you come home to stay?” She questions.
> You respond that you’re not sure. That you wanted to see how things went since the attack.
> Although she tries her best to reassure you that that hard man had not been back since his last attempt of so many decades ago you are still apprehensive.
> Although you spent some time under the tutelage of her intrusive friend the witch. You spent most of your time wandering.
> It’s how you’ve survived this long and how your interactions with hunters have been minimal.
> But your mother. She absolutely refuses to leave this place.
> She barely even tries to feed, even when it’s absolutely necessary.
> Which was why are you knew to bring blood vials.
> You’re kind can get a little… Irrational when they’ve been starved.
> Your mother was no different.
> So deep were you within your own thoughts that you didn’t even realize that she has flipped you and is now laying her head peacefully on your chest.
> She begins to drone on about how you remind her so much of your father.
> You lay motionless with your arms stretched out.
> Somethings never change.
> When your mother gets like this you know you’re not going anywhere for at least the rest of the evening.