Crashing through the forest's edge and back into camp came the shortest of the Vampires. The breaking of branches and leaf crushing steps had been snuffed out under one great sound, a stuttering and indistinct scream. Shouted words that crashed together to remove any possibility of traditional language. He bisected the camp with his great wobbling sprint, all parties staring in awe as he nearly escaped, only foiled by a single snag. A snare caught the Vampires ankle, truthfully the trap had not enough strength to topple him in any capacity (His shortness and weight balancing each other out in equal parts), but had enough kick to kill off his remaining balance. He threw himself forwards, arms kept to his side, forehead meeting with a stone embedded in the ground. 

The Vampire sat on Carrie lifted his head, glaring at his comrade. From where she lay, Carrie couldn’t see his grimace, but she could feel his arm shift- Just a minor shift in posture, a minor lapse in focus, enough for a breath and the wriggle of an arm. She threw her hand onto the seared branch, feeling prickling heat. Her grip was tight and it gave the wood a good crackling. She mustered her strength and twisted. She smashed the burning wood across his cheek- He tumbled and rolled, scraping away at blistering embers leaving only blotches of black ash. 

Carrie coughed and stood as he gave no breath. She took her axe and gave movement to a slow approaching blow. The Vampire scrambled, blindly searching for the spear behind himself, rolling over atop it. Carrie lunged and brought the iron down.

She closed her eyes as she brought it down. She felt it connect- It wasn’t like any wood she had ever split before, it gave surprisingly easily. There was a horrendous screech and hiss- Singing kettles and bellowing wails. There was the foulest of smells in the air; burning hair and blood. She opened her eyes, he was crawling away, hands on his waist. There was bubbling ooze being filtered through his fingers- A running red spilling down his clothes. Once some lengths away he braced himself against a tree, lifting himself up leaving bloody prints on the tree. Through the tear of the shirt she saw a wound- A great black mass of bubbled and hardened ripples caking his side.