Anything worth doing starts as a bad idea.

Risotto tries to remind himself this as he ventures deep into vampire-infested woods, barren of any weapon to defend himself. 

Twigs snap beneath his feet, and fallen leaves cry with a crunch, his peculiar wine toned eyes scanning the autumn floor in search of his only prized possession he had stupidly lost on his last outing as a vampire hunter; a locket storing his sisters picture.

May it be the only thing he has left in memory of her, it would make this whole situation worse. The night tints the world in black, and the moon makes the shade all the thicker-- Finding that itty-bitty necklace among the blanket of midnight and autumn leaves would be like finding a needle in a haystack. 

He swears that each little glimmer out of the corner of his eye is his missing treasure, every tiny shine offered by the minimal light his necklace, but of course, it never is. Everything in him is telling him to give up, that if he were to go any further into these woods, he'll wind up lost.

But like any other would, Risotto promises himself, 'I'll look for a few more minutes, just a few.', and instead ended up searching for another hour; unbeknownst to him, in an entirely different area than where he might've actually lost it.

The twisted grey trees, with their curled branches bent like fingers, all ended up looking the same, and the pattern of deer tracks went in loops, as if meaning to disorient his sense of direction. The chill air bites at his flesh as the wind whips by, leaving the poor fool to shudder as he walks toward his little house in defeat.

Yet he finds that the forest stretches on; and soon, when he finally picks up the change in environment, and notices the steep hill which had never been there before (of which he nearly tripped down), it finally clicks that he was only getting farther and farther from his home. 

Ah, but this is of to be expected, isn't it? That's what he gets for not listening to himself, and admitting he should just accept the loss. 

Life had never been fair to poor Risotto, and unfortunately, it wasn't about to get any better. No tools on hand, no thick clothing, too many hours till sunrise, no weapons... Hell, he really wouldn't be all that surprised if he were to die out here. 

To be honest, he began to suspect that such an idea might prove to be reality, the moment he heard a rustling in the bush behind him. 

A rabbit, he foolishly wanted to convince himself. Just some rabbit skittering around in the underbrush, that's what that sound was. And he was right, for not a moment later, a hare came bounding out of the green, and scampered off... But what came after it was no little bunny.

A human- No, a snake? A mix of the sorts; terrifying in every nature, hissing and howling at the missed prey it was assumedly trying to catch. Lavender hair sprouted from its craning head, the arms that appeared to aid its movement muscled, but flexing impatiently as it slithered forward. It catches sight of Risotto, defenseless and without means to fight back, and pauses for a moment. 

It doesn't look like this creature can see very well, he notices, as its eyes narrow and widen, its head nodding from side to side. 

"Melone!" A voice shouts from within the deep woods. "Have you caught it?"

"No, but I think I've found something else!" The monster, apparently also known as 'Melone' yells back, not in any particular direction, as it moves around Risotto languidly. "I can't tell if this thing is a tree, or a human!"

"Well, it's probably a damn tree! Last time you said this, I came over and wasted my time to find out you were just gazing at some oak!"

"But this one really smells like one! I'm telling you, come over here and tell me whether this is another tree or not, I promise this is the last time!"

"You damned lug-- Think of this," The voice of this beasts partner sounds closer, frighteningly enough, "can you hear it breathing?"

Don't move, hold your breath. Don't move, hold your breath. Risottos subconscious hammered these simple instructions into his head in a chant, his own body betraying him for a moment when an insect of some sort flew into his neck and made him flinch; though luckily, this snake-human hybrid hadn't noticed.

A minute passes, and Melone answers the question, "No. I guess it really wasn't a human.."

"See? I fucking told you. Hurry up and actually catch something before Prosciutto sends out the hound to look for us."

"Fine, fine... And stop calling Ghiaccio a hound!" It goes to slither away, a bit depressed in the manner, and gives way for Risotto to make a break for it-- But right as he lifts his foot to jump on that idea, Melone snaps his head back, and stares directly at him. His hearing must be astounding, for he didn't make much more noise than a mouse.

Risotto is at a loss, standing with one foot in the air, struggling to keep still and not flail his arms around in search of balance, and it certainly doesn't help that he hadn't breathed in the past minute or so. The world begins to briefly flicker different colors, and sure enough, he can tell he's gonna pass out soon. 

As if someone were watching over him, Melone turns away and crawls off, the end of his tail disappearing like smoke in the air as it dipped into the distance. Finally, relief for the moment, but not for the night. He needs to get the hell out of these woods, because if one thing's for sure, it's that that snake wasn't alone, and it's partner will probably not hesitate like it did to kill him.

Counting the seconds, he wants to be sure that Melone is far enough that he won't have any time to catch up if he were to start running that very second, so he waits, and takes into account how good his hearing is, and how fast he can be. 

Assuming he can go about a couple meters a second, and hear perfectly within a forty foot radius, then he should run in... 3.. 2...

"I fucking knew it was a human!"

Oh shit.

No time for calculating or planning his next step; if he doesn't move now, he'll end up as dinner for those creatures. So, in a fit of fear and apprehensiveness, Risotto darts to his left, the shouts and calls between the snake and whoever it was with growing distant, until a painfully familiar hissing and dragging sound came up only a mere few meters away. 

He doesn't want to look behind him, to face what could very well be death itself, and instead presses himself harder, ignoring the stabbing feeling in his side as his body already desires to give up. He threatens to roll his ankle as he skids to the side, hearing the creature behind him whine about his getaway, before catching back up with ease. 

This is terrifying, the whole ordeal is horrifying, tomorrow isn't guaranteed, but who's to say the next five seconds are either? He jumps over some toppled log and leans toward where he expects there to be ground, though regrets his decision when he finds the fall to be further than anticipated. That hill from earlier, he recognizes, is the same one he just lept down like an idiot.

Practically eating mud, Risotto feels dirt freckle his face by the bunch, as his body is tossed like a ragdoll among earth and rock. A cut appears on his cheek, his eye gets close to being gouged out by a twig, thorns rip at his clothes, and even the trunk of some tree in the way manages to knock the wind out of him-- though at the very least, it stops his descent. 

That Melone guy mustn't be too far behind, so he needs to start moving-- however, his left foot doesn't seem cooperative. It stings upon contact to anything, and refuses to go in any other direction without forcing a whimper out of Risottos throat. Great, it's twisted. Or sprained. Or both, he can't tell with his blurred vision. 

Up in the sky, he stares for what he thinks may be his final time, admiring the stars and daunting moon as though there was no greater sight he'd be able to see in his last moments. A vulture circles the land above, a mere dot in his swaying sky as his mind grows dizzy. He wants to be able to say that he's had a good life, like all others think when they're about to die, but he just can't bring himself to. Because it hasn't been a good life, but at the very least, he needn't to endure it any longer.

Risottos body gives in beneath him, and from what little bit of consciousness he can muster, he sees the face of the monster that should feast well tonight.

"Melone, don't kill this one yet." This voice is new, but Risotto wasn't in the right state of mind to even begin to understand what it sounded like. He just knew this person, or rather, thing, wasn't like either of the two he'd heard before. "He has strange eyes, I think it'd be in our best interest to bring this one back in one piece. Make sure to..."

The voices drown into a mixed hum of mumbles, and soon, he can't keep his eyes open anymore. All he can hope for is that he'll have the opportunity to open them again, one more time.

But wouldn't you know! Apparently, wishes do come true, for Risotto was able to flutter his weary eyes open again.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty. We're gonna need you awake for this." This speaker, surprisingly enough, looked to be human. Though don't be fooled, for when his vision cleared up, he caught sight of the stitches littered all along the mans body, holding together different patches of skin and limbs. By god, there was even a bolt going through his neck!

No, let's ignore that for a minute, is Risotto being... Dragged? Yeah. Like a dead pig on a stick, he's being dragged to... Somewhere. Probably his grave.

He tries to turn and look at where he's being dragged to, mindful of his aching foot, and shudders in positive fear. If he was a man of weaker constitution, he may very well have pissed himself.

A gothic-esque manor of the Victorian era, edged with spikes and traced with intricate designs, lured him and his captors closer in an inviting whisper, mimicked by the hushed whistle of the wind through the trees. The apex of the house made home for a large gargoyle that sat atop its roof comfortably, and if Risotto were to focus his eyes, he could've sworn he saw it move. Though before he could get a real good look at it, he was yanked inside.

The rope binding his hands together was about as comfy as slamming the underside of your nail into cactus spines. It scratched at his wrists and left his skin chaffed, rug burns threatening to form if he wasn't released from those restraints soon. 

His skin stretched and threatened to rip apart, and right as he was sure it would, he found himself thrown into a pitch-black room, looking directly into his captors indifferent expressions, ignoring his silent plea for explanation as they slammed the door shut, and left him alone in the void of a room.

There must be something in here, maybe something hungry, that's been starved for a taste of flesh-- and the idea of that terrified him, forcing his legs to try and push his body back against the door he was locked behind. It became farther and farther the more he tried to scurry to it, and soon, it began to feel like he was going nowhere, until his spine finally met something solid.

Good, a wall, he finally has some sense of--

"Well, hello there~"

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit-

The hands tied behind his back feel around, and as they do, his fingers brush against what seems to be the leg of a chair, and then, the leg of a person.

"You seem to be in a rush. Have you got somewhere to be?

This voice, he feels his whole body go stiff because of it, those few sentences this stranger spoke was enough to make him submit to this inevitable death they're probably keen on sending him to.

It's deep and smooth; from the way they speak it's like they could have the world follow their every command without question. Their tone is alluring and sharp, so much so, any word could probably leave a cut on ones skin.

This isn't someone he wants to mess with.

"Turn around," They command, their voice the slightest bit louder than before. "I want to see your face."

And he does so, quite obediently too, turning on his knees and spinning to look in the opposite direction, though he saw nothing but black.

Without warning, his face was snatched by a single, large hand, and pinched between sharp, calloused fingers, angling his head from side to side with his lips slightly puckered from the force. Inspecting the meal, probably, is what this person was doing- Nah, they're probably not even human. Wouldn't it be ironic if they were a vampire? There wouldn't be anything more humiliating, really.

With no further words, the being released his face, and sat in the still quiet. 

"Ar-Are you going to kill me?" Risotto manages to choke out, already regretting even opening his mouth. 

There was a low laugh from the person in front of him. "Hm, I don't think so. Not yet, anyway. You're too dirty for my tastes."

What a prick! He just went through hell and back, tossed around like a sack of potatoes, and this dick has the audacity to say that he isn't even good enough to be killed?

"But that doesn't mean you're off the menu." They continue. "I'll have you stay here for now, just a few rooms down; you'll be all taken care of so my meal will be worthwhile."

Before he could even speak, the same hand that was once squishing his face gave him a smug pat on his head, a gust of wind flying by him and the door to the room finally opening to reveal... A person? An actual human?

This one didn't seem to be made of stitches and others skin, nor was it half human half snake, and there wasn't some sort of tail reaching out of the bottom of their lab coat, and there weren't horns on their blonde head... Yep. That's a human person. Thank fuck.

Just as he was about to plead to get help, for this stranger to save his life and get him out, he stops upon noticing its the same guy that looked at him through the closing door; one of the assholes that stuck him in the same room as that cunt.

"Can you stand?" The person asks in a dull, but clearly annoyed tone.

"...No."

"Fine then." He turns to shout into the hall. "Melone! Come get this miserable fleshbag into his room!"

As that disgusting, vile snake he so desperately tried to run from slithers into the room, Risotto remembers the whole reason he came into these damned woods, and got himself into this situation.

Yeah, because anything worth doing starts as a bad idea. 

He began to feel like looking for the locket was just a bad idea in general.