I know what it is that I am to do.
There is a certain Camper lurking nearby; they are to be my prey, and their blood is to be the source of vim for my interdimensional travel.
They are in my sight.
'Who goes there?' they ask no one.
'No blogger,' I respond.
'Your voice is familiar,' they utter.
'Oh, I know,' I imply.
'I know who you are; come out and face me'.
I remain hidden. We are in a forest; I blend in perfectly against the trees.
'Before I do, I have but a question for you,' I expostulate.
'Out with it,' they moan.
'Tell me the name your body owned before your assimilation,' I roar.
'Wait what the fuck why,' they stutter.
'I feel a strange compulsion to know,' I gesture.
'Okay, fine. It was Erina'.
I strike, conjuring slenderbranch after slenderbranch, and my target is no more.
'Your blood is mine,' I say, vampirically.