“I can’t believe you forgot the tent.” The male camper shuffled into his sleeping bag.
The female punched her pillow with more force than was really necessary. “I didn’t forget it. You forgot it. And you forgot the map. And you forgot the food. And you got us lost. And you—”
“Oh, sure. Blame me for everything. Like you didn’t do anything wrong.” He rolled onto his side.
“You’re right about that. I didn’t do anything wrong. You were too busy doing it all.”
“Shut up. I’m trying to sleep.”
She rolled over onto her side, facing away from him. “Remind me to never go on another camping trip with you ever again.”
“Yeah. Whatever. Good night.”
Ambrose watched and waited.
Laetissa shifted in her spot. “Now.” she whispered.
“No. Just wait.”
She punched his upper arm. It was an unimpressive attempt. “I’ve waited too long.”
He snarled at her.
She shrank away from him.
“They’ll fall asleep. We’ll get them then.”
His stomach growled.
I’m starting to understand why someone threw her into another dimension. “No.”
The two campers settled into stillness and into heavy, well-measured breathing.
Ambrose smiled, baring his fangs. “Now.” He emerged from the bushes – smooth, silent, careful.
Laetissa let out a warrior cry and charged towards the sleeping couple, who woke with a start. “BEWARE, WEAK AND PUNY MORTALS. I’VE COME FOR YOUR BLOOOOOD!”
They frantically wriggled and wrangled out of their sleeping bags.
The female camper escaped from her sleeping bag’s confines and ran off into the woods. Ambrose pursued her.
She ran, wild and blind. Until she tripped over a random tree root. She fell and landed hard.
He was upon her before she could even stand. He bit her neck and drank her dry.