The Shtriga absconded into the forest. The cries of the infant became a languid sound of nothingness, the pitch of his mother's scream echoed within my ear with an intensified vibration. My feet barely touched the muddy ground and dodged all fallen twigs as I ran after the Shtriga. The pleasant scent of pure infant blood lingered in the air.

Being a Dhampir, son of one of the elders, Vince and a female vampire hunter, Tora, I was gifted with unnatural speed and the ability to clearly see in the dark. The half moon barely shone through the myriad of trees.

"In the name of virgin blood I command you to stop!" I yelled after her. My feet were less than 5 inches away from her thin, long dress. She turned around and gave me a swift glance. Her disfigured face and crooked nose emphasised by the silver light of the moon peaking through a branch. Her pale blue eyes pierced mine before she abruptly turned around and began her run again.

"Fine!" I faked a dejected sigh.
"Have it your way, but I'll have you know that I bought a freshly baked garlic bread that resides safely in my backpack and I'm in the mood for some sharing," I whistled after the subtle threat. That was another perk of not being a full blooded vampire: I was immune to garlic whereas this unfortunate Shtriga was not.
A slow smirk played on my lips when she lifted her hands in surrender and walked towards me in anguish.

Holding the garland of wild rose with gloved hands I placed it around her neck. Sadly, I wasn't immune to the torment of wild roses.
"Okay then, let's go cure that innocent baby you so mercilessly drank blood from," I sternly said.

The way back to the child's house took longer due to the lack of wild running but eventually we arrived. I knocked on the door and awaited the round of screams and cusses from the parents as usual. The door opened to reveal a grief stricken, ginger haired lady cradling the tiny boy in her arm. With that devastating sight I assured the mother that her child will be as fine as a parking ticket if she gives us two seconds with him.

Reluctantly, she lead us to a room and with one last panicked glance she left with the door slightly ajar. I glared at the Shtriga until she rolled her eyes and opened the baby's mouth with her dirt filled nails and then spat into it; this was the most disgusting part about being a Shtriga hunter: having to watch them spit into the babies mouths. Nonetheless, after a Shtriga devoured the blood of an infant, the only way to save the child is the spitting.

When the child's giggles suddenly filled the room and the mother rushed in to grab him, repeatedly thanking me, I sighed contently and roughly lead the Shtriga out of the house and into my father's dungeons by the early hours of the morning.

"Thank you, Kevin," I heard my father say before I dosed off into the realm of dreams where I'd meet my mother.

The sound of agonising screams eventually awoke me from my slumber. I took this as my cue to punish the Shtriga before whoever it was did it for me.

The dungeons were located on the east side of my father's castle. The entire room held beds with heavy silver chains to withhold the prisoners strongly. Metal tables with a variety of torture weapons lay neatly in a line. This was my favourite part of the castle.

Beneath my father's leadership we drink blood only from willing volunteers and NEVER from children or the sick. The Shtriga break that rule as long as they reside in our area which is why my job as a Shtriga hunter is so vital.

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Mature content:violence.
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I opened the door to the dungeons and dismissed the assigned torturer. This one was mine to punish.

My favourite method of torture is pitchcapping. During the 1798 rebellion the British military had used this brilliant method against any rebellions. The most famous example was made of Anthony Perry who had been one of the leaders of the Wexford rebels.

I took the conical shaped paper cap and poured hot tar into it. I then (a bit sadistically) placed the tar filled cap onto the Shtriga's head. She yelped in hellish pain and immediately shut her eyes tight out of reflex. One second, two second, three second, four second...I counted till 30 to allow the tar to cool down. Then I rapidly removed it and watched the Shtriga's skin and tissue come off too. She shrieked and trashed in the bed. The silver chains burned her body and drained her energy every time she pushed herself upwards to escape the agony.

I then picked up a sharp blade from the table and slit across her right arm. "Clench your fist," I ordered her so that the blood can flow more freely. The stench of her blood nearly had me regurgitating; its smell was putrid and bitter like rusted metal. Regardless, I continued to create perpendicular cuts on her left arm too and watched her clench that fist before I had even commanded so. "Good," I said. "Now you've understood the pain of having blood unwillingly drained from you and learnt how to listen to commands before they have to be said."

I unlocked the silver chains cautiously and held her up by grasping her by her hunched, broad shoulders. I walked over to the medical cabinet and got a bottle of medicinal alcohol and a bunch of bandages.

Opening the bottles I poured it onto her arms and heard her gasp at the burning sensation. Finally I wrapped the bandage around her arms and head and handed her a cup of volunteered blood to regain her lost strength as well as speed up the healing process. I commanded a guard to escort her outside and left for the throne room to have a few words with my father.

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Shtriga: is a vampiric witch in traditional Albanian folklore that sucks the blood of infants at night while they sleep, and then turns into a flying insect (traditionally a moth, fly or bee). Only the shtriga herself could cure those she had drained by spitting into their mouth. The shtriga is often pictured as a woman with a hateful stare (sometimes wearing a cape) and a horribly disfigured face

Dhampir: is a creature that is the result of a union between a vampire and a human. This union was usually between male vampires and female humans, with stories of female vampires mating with male humans being rare.