Dhampir Sisters and Uninvited Guests

The three days following the confrontation with the Temple were deceptively calm.
The village was finally recovering from the epidemic; the water had become drinkable thanks to my instructions, and the last patients were slowly getting back on their feet.
And yet… that unpleasant prickling sensation at the back of my neck wouldn’t go away. That same instinct I’d honed as an ER doctor — the one that whispered, “This isn’t over. The real trouble’s still coming.”

“You feel it too, Pururun?” I asked quietly.

My faithful slime trembled on my shoulder, a glowing red question mark appearing on her surface. She was uneasy as well.

It happened while I was checking up on an eight-year-old boy — weak, but out of danger — that I saw them for the first time. Two silhouettes, lurking in the shadow of a collapsed house at the edge of the village. Motionless. Watching.

“Hey!” I barked, straightening up. “You want something?”

The figures vanished instantly, like ghosts melting into the ruins.

“Oh, fantastic. Mysterious stalkers. Just what I needed,” I muttered.

Pururun flashed a little red “!” and pointed toward the spot with a wobble. She’d seen them too.

The next day, the same thing happened. And the day after that.
Always those two shadowy shapes, spying on me from the ruins.
It was starting to seriously piss me off.

“All right, enough!” I snapped, slamming my satchel onto the ground. “Get out here, or I’m coming in after you!”

This time, they didn’t run. Slowly, cautiously, two girls emerged from the shadows. Twins, judging by their looks. Maybe fifteen or sixteen — it was hard to tell with their gaunt faces. Crow-black hair, sun-bronzed skin, rags that might once have been fine clothes.

But what hit me immediately were their eyes. Blood red. Their canines, just a little too sharp. And their long, pointed ears.

“Bronze-skinned vampires…? No. Dhampirs,” I breathed.

Marta had given me a crash course on the races inhabiting this world: the usual dwarves, elves, beastkin, and humans… but also whispered about the existence of “tainted bloodlines,” the children of forbidden unions.
These two — half-human, half-vampire hybrids — fit the description perfectly.
And in this lovely medieval cesspool of a world, such blood-mixed beings were hated by everyone, hunted like animals.
Scratch that — Marta had mentioned that animals were treated better than dhampirs. The kind of bigotry that made you want to punch someone in the face.

The twins froze at my muttered words, ready to bolt.
The taller of the two — short hair, aggressive posture, clear tomboy energy — stepped protectively in front of her sister.

“You gonna rat us out to the Temple?” she spat hoarsely.

“Please,” I sighed. “I already have enough crap to deal with from those zealots without adding ‘snitch’ to my résumé.”

The other twin — the more feminine one despite her tattered clothes — opened her crimson eyes wide.
“You… you’re not afraid of us?”

“Afraid? Of two scruffy little bat girls playing spy for three days straight? I’ve seen scarier things on Saturday night shifts at the ER.”

Right on cue, Pururun decided to make her grand entrance. She slid down from my shoulder and bounced onto the ground with a smug little plop. The twins jumped.

“What’s that?” the tomboy asked, suspicious.

“That’s Pururun. My pharmaceutical assistant and the single most annoying blob on this continent. She makes medicine, has the personality of a diva, and an ego the size of a royal palace.”

Pururun quivered indignantly, flashing a big red “X” on her surface.

For the first time, the twins cracked faint smiles. Hesitant, but genuine.

“Okay,” I said, crossing my arms. “Now that we’ve done introductions, maybe you can tell me why you’ve been spying on me? What’s your deal?”

The feminine one lowered her gaze, but her sister stared me down defiantly.

“We wanted to know…” she began, voice wavering. “You really heal everyone? Even… even us?”

Ah. Now it clicked.

“That’s it? Here I was worried I’d picked up two new stalkers… Are you sick?”

“Not sick,” the tomboy said bitterly. “Cursed. That’s what the Temple says. Half-bloods spread rot wherever they go.”

“And you believe those assholes?”

They both flinched at my bluntness. I’d almost forgotten that in this puritanical world, nobody talked like that about the clergy.

“You’re not a Temple healer… are you?” the softer twin whispered.

“Temple healer? Me? I hate religion. The only gods I worship are Jack Daniels and Johnny Walker.”

They obviously didn’t get the reference, but my tone relaxed them.

“And what do I call you, then? ‘Leech girls’ seems a bit rude,” I added dryly.

“Tch. Lyra,” said the tomboy, pointing at her sister. “She’s Lyra. I’m Mira.”

“Ethan,” I replied. “Doctor by trade, pain in the ass by vocation.”

Silence lingered for a moment. Then Lyra, the gentler one, took a cautious step forward.

“The villagers… they said it’s true. That you defy the Temple. That you don’t believe in their blessings.”

“Their ‘blessings’ can kiss my ass. The only thing that matters is healing people. End of story.”

“Even the impure?” Mira challenged.

“‘Impure’? You mean dhampirs? What kind of idiotic label is that? You bleed red like everyone else, don’t you? And you look human.”

“Yes, but — ”

“Then you can get sick like anyone else. And if you get sick, I treat you. That’s my job.”

Pururun pulsed joyfully, forming a pink heart on her surface. Honestly, that slime showed more humanity than most people in this world.

The twins exchanged a glance — silent communication, telepathic or just sisterly instinct. Then Lyra stepped closer.

“It’s been… a long time since we’ve eaten,” she admitted softly. She was getting dangerously close to my neck.

Mira elbowed her sharply, but too late — Lyra’s approach made me stumble back, hands flying to my throat.

“Whoa, hands off! I already donated blood this month, thank you. I’ll pass on becoming your snack. Proper young ladies don’t give hickeys to strangers.”

Mira scowled. “I’d rather die than poison myself with some old man’s blood!”

Great. One’s as feisty as Pururun, and the other… reminds me way too much of Lena. Why can’t I ever have a normal, peaceful day? Honestly, I’m the one cursed here.

I sighed and got back up.
“Come on. I’ve got leftover stew from lunch. I assume you don’t live exclusively on blood. Pururun, stop showing off and prep something for their nutritional deficiencies.”

My slime gave a snappy little military salute and bounced off toward my bag.

“You… you’d do that? For us?” Lyra stammered.

“I do it for everyone,” I shrugged. “Even troublemakers.”

And there it was — their first real smile.
Not the nervous twitch from earlier. A genuine smile that briefly made them look their age again.

But as we headed toward my improvised camp at the edge of the hamlet, a distant rumble reached us. Hoofbeats. Horses. Several of them.

The twins froze like cornered animals.

“Shit,” Mira whispered, her face draining of color.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Hide us,” Lyra pleaded, tears welling up in her crimson eyes. “Please!”

Before I could react, a troop of riders thundered into the village. About ten men in dark armor, led by a cruel-looking bastard wearing the Temple’s colors.

And they were coming straight for us.