2 A vampire in the village

Chapter 2 A vampire in the village Transylvania, 1898 The moon shone on the empty village square. Most villagers were tucked up in bed, but 16-year-old Clara was wide awake. She lived at the top of her father's noisy inn, so she rarely went to bed before midnight. It was now after one.

As the muffled singing rose up through the floor, Clara gazed out of the window. A shadowy figure in a black cloak was creeping across the square. He looked like a man, but not like any man she'd ever seen. His skin was white as ivory, his eyes flashed green in the dark, and his lips were stained a ruby red.

The figure was surely moving faster than any human being could. Then, all of a sudden, he was gone. "It must be a trick of the light," Clara thought. But, as she got into bed, her mind kept whirring. Could it be a vampire? "Don't be silly," she told herself. "Vampires are just an old wives' tale."

As a young girl, she'd listened eagerly as the old women of the village told tales of these creatures, and she found herself remembering snatches as she tried to sleep. They're monsters who look like handsome men and beautiful women. They drink human blood by night. They have no reflections. A vampire leaves only two tiny wounds in his victim's neck. Eventually, after much tossing and turning, Clara fell asleep. The next thing she knew, it was morning and someone was shouting.

"Dead! It's old Mr. Goga. He's dead!" In a panic, Clara dressed as quickly as she could and ran downstairs, her skirts flying out behind her. The whole village was pouring out into the square. Clara rushed to where the village policeman was standing, beside the lifeless body of Mr. Goga. As Clara leaned closer, she saw two tiny puncture wounds on the old man's wrinkled neck. She shivered.

"Be off with you, Clara!" said the policeman. "This is no place for you." Clara scurried away. What should she do? She had no doubt at all that Mr. Goga had been killed by a vampire. But who would believe her? And even if some of the older, crazier ladies of the village believed her... who'd believe them?