# Time Dislocation: An Encounter in the Black Forest
**Time**: One day in July 2025
**Place**: On the edge of the Black Forest in Novaria, medieval continental Europe
**Characters**:
1. Li Haoran (Chief Archaeological Researcher: rational, responsible, bears a scar from an appendectomy three years earlier on his waist)
2. Catherine von Heisenberg (A centuries-old vampire: purple-eyed, her pupils narrowing to slits and glowing scarlet when emotional, with sharp fangs; clad in a Gothic gown, an aura of cedar and mineral clinging to her)
Cold rain fell like needles, and the night was as dark as ink. In the archaeological research lab, Li Haoran stared intently at the mysterious runes carved into a stone sarcophagus. Suddenly, a faint blue glow emanated from the sarcophagus, and in the next instant, a massive spacetime vortex tore open out of nowhere, emitting a shrill howl—as if an invisible behemoth sought to devour everything in its path.
"Watch out!" a colleague shouted. Li Haoran instinctively grabbed a nearby table, trying to steady himself. But the vortex's power exceeded his wildest imagination; its immense suction clamped onto him, pulling his body uncontrollably toward the center. He was soon hanging in mid-air, his feet pointing directly at the swirling void. "Well, this actually aligns with the laws of physics," he muttered involuntarily.
"Chief! Hold on!" His colleagues swarmed over, seizing the other end of the table and pulling with all their strength. Though Li Haoran's hands gripped the table tightly, he slid down to the legs, his knuckles whitening with exertion. His gaze darted between the vortex and his colleagues, each exchange conveying their trust—and their fear. The vortex grew more ferocious by the second, shaking the entire room violently. Thoughts raced through Li Haoran's mind; he knew that if this continued, not only would he be sucked in, but his colleagues would also be injured, even killed, by the overwhelming force.
"Let go!" Li Haoran shouted suddenly, his voice resolute. "Stop pulling! Don't let more people get hurt!"
"Chief, stay safe! Protect yourself!" Tears streamed down his colleagues' faces as they reluctantly loosened their grip.
The spacetime vortex swallowed him in an instant. He was plunged into dizzying chaos, the world blurring around him as the wind roared in his ears.
The smell of iron suddenly intensified, mingling with the stench of burning rubber and rotting mud. The back of Li Haoran's head slammed into the tracks of a Tiger tank; the sharp metal edge tore his shirt, exposing the scar from his appendectomy three years earlier. From his upside-down perspective, the sky was a murky orange-red, and the scream of a Stuka bomber echoed like the cry of some prehistoric bird. The pilot's goggles reflected his distorted face, overlapping with photos of the SS Totenkopf Division from German archives.
A Stuka bomber roared past, its piercing siren cutting through the air. Through the pilot's goggles, Li Haoran saw his own translucent form...
There was no time to think—the spacetime train continued hurtling backward.
The musty smell suddenly grew strong, reminiscent of a corner in Oxford University's underground library. Li Haoran crashed into Copernicus's lecture podium; the elderly scholar's spittle splattered on his hand, carrying the rusty tang of blood oxidized over years. Amidst the angry shouts of the monks below, he heard the rustle of the *De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium* manuscript being flipped, the ink still wet and reeking of turpentine.
"The Sun is the center of the universe," Copernicus's voice, hoarse with lung disease, struck like a mallet breaking through ice. "Just as truth will eventually pierce ignorance."
The monks crossed themselves, their silver crucifixes glinting. One brushed against Li Haoran's hand, its coldness reminding him of medieval torture instruments in museums.
When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on a muddy stretch of unknown land, his body aching all over. Cold rain mixed with mud poured down on him. Beside him stood a tangled forest, and the low growls of wild beasts echoed from the darkness. Li Haoran struggled to his feet, trying to make sense of his surroundings. But the sudden bark of hunting dogs and the shouts of men sent a chill to his heart. Acting on instinct, he sought to hide.
As the barking and curses drew closer, Li Haoran fled blindly through the woods, desperate to escape his pursuers. Suddenly, his ankle was caught by something, and he stumbled forward. Instinctively, he reached out and grabbed a piece of fabric—there was a sharp "rip," and the hem of a gown tore, revealing a smooth calf.
"Damned human!" a cold, angry hiss exploded beside him. Li Haoran had just stood up when a sharp slap landed across his face. The force left his head ringing. When he opened his eyes, he saw a woman with purple eyes glaring at him. Elegance radiated from her features, her Gothic gown making her look like a lady emerging from the darkness—but the torn hem of her dress added a touch of fury to her demeanor.
"I'm sorry..." Li Haoran began to explain, but a sudden killing intent washed over him. The first crossbow bolt whistled past her ear, and he instinctively pulled her into the shadow of a rock. Her body was surprisingly light, yet her bones were as hard as cold iron. As his nose brushed her neck, he detected the scent of cedar and a faint mineral tang—the smell of a body that had walked the earth for centuries, steeped in the energy of the land.
The woman froze for a moment, then snapped: "Are you insane? Let me go!"
He pressed down on her struggling shoulders, feeling the faint tremor beneath her skin. "Stay still. There are too many of them!" He pulled her into his arms.
She suddenly went rigid. Her pupils narrowed to thin slits, and her fangs pierced her lower lip. Li Haoran watched as droplets of blood glistened like mother-of-pearl—exactly the same hue as the faint blue glow in the vortex. When her sharp teeth sank into his forearm, searing pain erupted. Her pupils blazed scarlet, and her nails dug deep into his arm, yet she did not drink. Instead, her entire body trembled, as if resisting some primal urge.
In the darkness, the hunters closed in like bloodthirsty beasts. Their shouts echoed through the trees, their weapons glinting in the firelight.
The woman frowned slightly. She could clearly sense the intense fear emanating from the human behind her—a scent that should have repulsed her. Yet, for some reason, being in his arms stirred an unfamiliar flutter in her chest. She gritted her teeth, about to break free, when Li Haoran's weak voice reached her: "You're crazy. There are too many of them!"
The warning took her by surprise. She had not expected this human to worry about her safety in such a dire situation. Just then, the hunters charged forward, brandishing their weapons. Li Haoran pushed her aside and met the blade head-on. A sharp pain shot through his arm, and blood instantly soaked his sleeve.
The woman stared at the injured human, her purple eyes flickering. The smell of blood filled the air, and her pupils contracted—hesitation flickered across her face. Her pale fingers clenched into fists, as if battling an inner urge. Finally, she took a deep breath and forced her gaze away.
In the next instant, she transformed into a black blur and charged at the hunters. Her pale fingers, like claws, struck with pinpoint precision—not to harm, but to lock onto the wrist of the man at the front. There was a crisp "crack," and his sword clattered to the ground as she hurled him into the hunters behind. The remaining men closed in, but she darted to the side, her sharp nails glinting in the moonlight. A single slash across one man's chest drew a trail of blood—deliberately avoiding vital organs, yet enough to send him crumpling to the ground in agony. Her eyes blazed scarlet, and an oppressive aura emanated from her. In the blink of an eye, five or six hunters lay writhing in the mud, their blood staining her gown and making her red eyes all the more striking. The last man lunged at her with an ax, but she did not dodge. Instead, she took a step forward, driving her elbow into his chest. As he stumbled, she snatched the ax and slammed it into a nearby tree trunk. "Leave," she said, her voice cold as ice. The remaining hunter, staring at his fallen companions, scrambled to his feet and fled into the depths of the forest.
The woman finally stopped, taking a deep breath to calm her emotions. Her hands trembled slightly, as if the intense fight had left her exhausted. She looked up at the starry sky, as if searching for answers. The night wind rustled her long hair, and her figure stood alone in the moonlight—lonely and ethereal.
At that moment, hurried footsteps approached from the woods. Li Haoran's figure emerged from the darkness, his eyes filled with concern and confusion. He approached cautiously, every step deliberate. The woman's eyes were still scarlet, but her movements were slower, as if lost in thought.
"A-are you a vampire?" Li Haoran's voice trembled. His gaze wandered over her, searching for clues in her reaction. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and stammered: "I'm a researcher. Please don't hurt me. I want to understand this world."
The woman let out a laugh—sharp with mockery, yet laced with curiosity.
Morning mist drifted over the treetops, carrying the scent of pine resin and death. Deep in the Black Forest, the spires of a Gothic castle loomed faintly. The gargoyles perched on the eaves faced their direction, as if countless eyes were watching from the darkness.
"I am Catherine von Heisenberg. I'll spare your life—for now." Her voice was cold, carrying an air of unquestionable authority. Suddenly, she contorted her features into a terrifying snarl, making Li Haoran stumble backward. Then, silver bells of laughter escaped her lips. She straightened her posture, seemingly unsure how to handle his concern—hesitating for a moment before extending a hand to help him up.
Li Haoran looked at her hand, a warm feeling rising in his chest. Despite the bleeding wound on his arm, he struggled to his feet. His eyes locked onto her purple gaze, as if confirming something deep within. Finally, he gently took her hand, and with her support, they walked together toward the heart of the Black Forest.
Catherine's long hair brushed against his hand, carrying the scent of night dew and ancient incantations. In the distance, the castle bells rang—not to mark the hour, but as a warning. The night wind howled, as if playing a prelude to this unexpected encounter. On this night of time dislocation, the gears of fate had quietly begun to turn. Their figures faded into the moonlight, leaving behind a future shrouded in mystery and uncertainty.