Far off, in a small village far from all others, a weary traveler stumbled through the streets in search of a place to rest.

"Excuse me?" he had asked several times to anyone who caught his eye; but they simply ignored his inquiries and strode off, continuing about their business.

"Sir?" the traveler asked yet again to a gentleman who looked only a few years elder than him. He was expecting the man to turn away without a care as many had, but the man instead turned to face him.

"You are not from here," he stated. The traveller shook his head. "What is it you need?"

"I would like to find a place to rest my tired feet and fill my empty stomach," the traveler told the man. "Do you know of such a place in this village?"

"There are two inns here, both have what you are looking for. One is very highly praised by those who stay there, however the prices are far from low. The other is less luxurious, but affordable," the man told him. The traveler opened his mouth to thank the villager but before he could utter his thanks the villager spoke once more, his voice hushed. "But the second one I spoke of, there are rumors, rumors of a beautiful, but strange innkeeper who resides there."

"Strange?" the traveler asked, slightly afraid of the answer.

"Yes, strange. Rumor has it she is a real beauty, but dangerous, very dangerous, no one knows for sure and I will not speak of what I do not know for sure so openly. All I will say is be careful," the villager warned before wishing him the best of luck and walking off.

"Wait!" the traveller called to the man's back.

"Yes?" the man halted and turned abruptly.

"Where is the inn? The second one you spoke of?"

"Down the road, past the weavers," he answered before hurrying away once more. The traveller opened his mouth to thank him but the man was already far from him.

"Dangerous?" he muttered to himself once the figure of the villager was only a grey blur lost in the crowd. Even if it did sound odd, he was not bountiful in money so it was his only choice, and besides, they were only rumors.

So the traveller wearily hoisted his pack higher up on his shoulders and headed down the road in search of the inn. It wasn't long until he passed a shop with a sign that read Jenson's Weavers. The shops and homes in the village were generally close together, but two large gaps were present on either side of the inn. The exterior was a dark wood, the old musty windows had their curtains drawn and the sign above the door was too old and faded to make out.

He took a deep breath before slowly pushing open the door, which let out a creak at it's opening and closing. A figure bound in long, draping rags was standing at an old desk. The furniture looked equally as ancient and haunted as the exterior, and in the traveller's opinion, the person at the desk.

"Hello?" he greeted weakly. The figure slowly turned it's covered head and held out a long finger, signaling him to come forward. The man hesitantly obeyed and took a deep breath as he stopped in front of the desk. He told himself he was being silly, but still the chills that were creeping up his spine did not fade.

"How can I help you?" A voice of a young woman came from under the hood, surprising the traveller.

"I am in need of a room and meal for the night," he responded, secretly curious about what appearance lay beneath the dark rags.

"Right this way," the woman replied, extending her arm towards the spiraling staircase. The man kept an ear out for signs of others staying here but the only sound he heard all the way up was the sound of the stairs creaking beneath him. "You will be staying here," she opened one of the doors that lined the hall for him.

"How much am I to pay?" he asked.

"You can pay once your stay is over," she informed him sweetly and left back down the stairs. The man called thanks to her and shut himself in his room. Only a bed, and a single chair furnished the room, like all the others, curtains were closed. The traveller went to pull them open, but he was greeted with a poof of dust and an array of cobwebs, causing him to quickly close them. Simply laying his pack on the floor, he flopped back on the bed. His legs ached, and he was grateful for this inn, even if it did scare him a little.

"Sir?" the voice called with a knock from the other side of the door. The man woke from his sleep with a start and rubbed his eyes before responding.

"You may enter." The innkeeper entered, holding a platter covered by a silver serving dome.

"Set it on the chair, I will eat in a moment," he told her. She did as he said and placed the tray on the chair. But instead of leaving, she walked over to the side of his bed and sat down at the end. Staring at the shadows where her face was, the man found himself consumed with a curious desire to pull back her hood. Throwing the blankets off of him, he stood and faced her. He then found his hands slowly reaching out towards her cloak and when she did not pull back, he grasped the edges of her cloak. Pulling back the hood, he revealed a beautiful young woman. Her eyes were framed by long lashes, and her slender face was pale and beautiful. Her long black hair cascaded down her face and reached her lower back. She gazed up at him, smiling with a closed mouth. He returned the smile and sat down beside her.

"You, are beautiful," he complemented shyly. She did not respond, but instead cupped his face with her long, slender hands. He leaned in closer and lightly kissed her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She grinned, almost a smirk, before she pushed him back on the bed. Her smile revealed a row of pointed teeth. The man was scared, and half his mind told him to run, but the other half fought logic and longed to stay. He reached out towards her robes and slid them off her shoulders, revealing her pale, full breasts. Wrapping his arms around her, he sat up and let his tongue explore her chest. Whilst he was doing this, she slid off his clothing.

"You have fallen, humans are so easily persuaded," she then whispered in his ear. She roughly forced him down and only laughed as his expression turned to one of fear. The traveller's eyes widened as he tried to force her off him, but she dug her nails into his shoulders and held him pinned to the bed. "It's time to eat," she whispered with a grin and sunk her pointed teeth into his neck. He wanted to scream, to run away from this place and never come back but he found himself unable to move. The innkeeper's hair began to change to purple at the ends and the same colour dripped from her mouth, mingling with the crimson colour of his own blood. "No use trying to escape… my poison is already flowing through your veins," she said with a smirk and then plunged her teeth into his neck once more, drawing more blood, and this time a chunk of flesh. Black and red spots scattered across the man's vision before it all went black; the last thing he saw was the glimmer of her teeth and her hungry eyes that promised death.

No one noticed the traveller's disappearance, or the one after that, or the one after that. And the dark innkeeper stood silently by her desk, waiting for another guest, and another meal.