The Inf

Fael peered into the inky darkness. He would be lucky to even get a glimpse of movement if their was any. As he stood on the edge of the small town, surrounded by lush trees with dense under brush, he knew there was something hunting him. The tall man clenched his fists in anger as a dense mist began to set in.
Three days he had waited for a chance to kill the hunter, three days in the wet and the cold. But whatever it was that wanted to kill him was smart. In fact Fael was beginning to believe it could intrude his thoughts. Entire villages had been wiped out by this unseen monster, why did he yield now? His thoughts drifted to his home. Cris would be worried sick by now. He loved the girl dearly, but his life kept him away from her for weeks, some times months.
Slowly Fael crouched, he could feel it. Growing inside him was the feeling of dread he had felt the last time he encountered it. Their had ben a dozen men with him, now he was the only one left. The outcome would be different this time, he thought to himself. No turning back now.

Just thirty yards behind Fael, looming ominously on a high tree branch stood the hunter. A pale man, not much shorter then Fael. He wore no armor. Rather, he was wrapped tightly in a brown cloak, wearing a high dirt brown hat.
Leaping to the ground without noise, he saw the man he was hunting twitch. Even from this distance every emotion that played across his face was evident. Looking now intently on his prey he walked steadily towards the tall man as if he was walking into his own house.

Fael peered around himself nervously. This was it, he knew it. One of them was going to die, the outcome was hopeless from Fael's point of view but he had to try. No sound reached his ears for a long while. He fought the urge to run wildly, it took all that he had to stay in his position. Everything inside screamed in protest but still he held.

Crouching just two yards behind him, the pale figure was ready. He had grown so hungry the past two days, finally fresh blood. Silently drawing a wicked switch blade he crept in for the kill.

Fael chanced a glance over his shoulder a second to late. Trying to dodger the pale man's strike the blade glanced of his shoulder. Blood spewed out, staining his heavy cloak deep red. At least it's bleeding freely.
Fael struck back quickly, the long thin blade striking the figures face. The now furious pale figure made a mad dash. Grabbing the blade of Fael's sword in disappeared into a cloud of dust. Suddenly the switchblade came up to strike again, this time at the face. Fael grabbed the wrist of his enemy, twisting for all the he was worth. Dropping the blade in pain, the vampire like man grabbed Fael by the throat. Wincing with pain he thought it was over. This is it, he got me this time, and there is no way out.
Grabbing a slim dagger that matched his now gone sword, Fael rammed the blade into the hunter's neck. Dark blood gushing down to his chest, the figure fell backwards. With the last of his dying strength the vamp threw fael ten yards in the opposite direction. The last thing remembered was his head thudding against a tree, he drifted through every nightmare he had ever had, not being able to wake.

The dying vampire winced with pain, the dagger still inserted through his throat. Painfully reaching into his cloak he removed a short scepter. Burying it as deep as he could into the soft earth he said a few words over it, cursed the tall man with the dagger, the breathed his last breath.