《Mythics》


 Prologue

    He awoke from his vision in a cold sweat. Well, to say ¡°awoke¡± was to imply that he slept during these moments of encrypted clairvoyance. It wasn¡¯t a sleep, so much as it was a trance. He could not control them, nor could he stop them when they came. He tried to interpret the vision before reporting in. Sitting up at his desk, he replayed it in his head.


    She was there, her brown hair, silky and thick, blew in the wind. She stood above the castle at the peak, laughing down at bodies and lakes of blood below her. He could see that blood caked her mouth and ran down her breasts. She laughed, cold and hard. There was no mercy in the lines of her menacing face. His master lay far below her feet. Body was sprawled in the mud, broken and desecrated. The beasts tore their men apart. She did this; she brought this upon them.


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    She sniffed the putrid air, thick with death, and smiled as she took the torch in her hand. With a swish of her bone-white wrist, she set the castle ablaze. He struggled against the shackles that held him in the stockades below, but she had already chosen his fate. The last thing he saw before the fires engulfed him were her wings overhead. Her sickening laughter rang in his ears.


    He rapped on the door of his master¡¯s room and straightened his cloak. His master¡¯s booming voice beckoned him inside. ¡°My Lord, we have a problem.¡±

 Chapter One - Bored Nobody

    How do you begin to go on living a life that you were thrust into after being plucked from your old one? Your body torn from the soil, your roots ripped and your flesh cold and exposed. All of your ambitions laid bare and locked in a box. Add it to the pile of boxes that you keep telling yourself you¡¯ll unpack, but you never will. What is your life if it was neatly organized and set into place for you? Is that a life? Truly? You aren¡¯t allowed to make your own choices because they were all chosen for you by a misty hand working from the shadows. Any semblance of comfort and familiarity is tossed into the fire and those boney fingers take your shoulders, turn you to a new path, and send you on your way. Farewell. Good luck.


    Your new life is now filled with strangers. Faces that once shared in your memories are now cold and foreign. But it¡¯s okay, this is your new family now. You can trust them. This is your home. Could I move on from it? Could I get used to this?


    Perhaps I could eventually. Eventually. But when was my eventually? A few hundred years? A thousand? That¡¯s not too long I guess. Not when you¡¯re like us. Not when those faces you thought you could remember grow old and return to dust. There¡¯s no one to miss when they¡¯re all dead.


    I suppose I should stop trying to kill myself. I didn¡¯t have the nerve to do it fast or violently, and it was clear that no one else would just let me waste away. It would be my only peace, but I wasn¡¯t allowed to have it. My life was chosen. My path was set.


    And yet, I was sick and tired. Sick and tired of being sick and tired. I was sick of being told who I needed to be and what I needed to do. I was tired of what was expected of me. I was so completely and utterly sick of the perfection of it all. Everything was completed. There was nothing for me to do, no goal for me. The house, the car, the city¡­ it was all just¡­ complete. How was this a life?


    And me. I was sick of me. I was just so weary of looking at the perfect face in the mirror. Not a pimple to pop, not a hair to pluck. I was so thoroughly disgusted with myself and everyone and everything around me, I could hardly bear it. Deep down, through the eyes of this beast inside of me, I suppose I did truly love myself. I guess, generally speaking, I didn¡¯t really hate myself. I was still myself on the inside, I could feel it. I was no different. I wasn¡¯t one of them. I was still the same arrogant asshole that I was last year, and the year before that. My own thoughts and desires hadn¡¯t been lost; neither had my personality slipped away. I was still me. I just wasn¡¯t the me I wanted to be.


    There was a lot to be said about how it was now. You¡¯d think that a girl like me, any young person really, would want to slip into a fairy tail. So many humans will always say, ¡°I wish magic was real!¡± Do you really? What would that cost you to get it? What would you have to lose?


    I was in a fairy tail now. I mean really, who knew what existed outside our walls. Who knew what truly existed in tandem with this pale skin? If someone had asked me a few years ago, youthful and sneaking out to drink with my friends, if I had wished for the supernatural to be real life, I would have said yes. Hell yes. What were a few scary creatures in exchange for fairies and witches and magic? For werewolves and vampires and everything in between. Any young girl with eyes filled with moonlight would have done anything to see that our world was more than boring. Life had to be more than school then work then death. I wish it was.


    It wasn¡¯t like it wasn¡¯t¡­ beneficial. That is to say¡­ there were benefits. Couldn¡¯t get sick, couldn¡¯t grow old, blah blah blah. But also, couldn¡¯t thrive. No survival. Only existence. You can only exist when everything is perfect and taken care of. Some would say that never having to work or pay bills or earn your keep on this blue and green rock in any way was a blessing. I wish I could tell them all they were fools. Utter fools.


    The strength and ¡°gifts¡± weren¡¯t enough to dull the sting of regret and loneliness that shimmered around me every day. I had eyes that could see beauty and colors beyond any spectrum my mortal eyes could ever see, but everything looked gray and cold to me. I could hear sounds more musical than anything I could have imagined with my mortal ears, and yet nothing could penetrate this muffled haze inside my head. My body was strong, but my will was so, so weak. Maybe I was the only one of our kind that was filled with nothing but self-loathing. I might be able to enjoy this life, more magical than I had ever dreamed could exist¡­ that is, if I didn¡¯t pout so often.


    So here I sat, balanced on what I like to call my ¡°special place.¡± It was the tip of a roof point above my bedroom window in the center of my enormous, three story house. Why I needed a three story house as a single bachelorette was truly beyond me. Who knew why these creatures did anything that they did? I sat and sulked while I thought about my new gifts and just how fortunate I was to be living in a fantasy come true. What a life¡­ but at what cost? I knew the answer to that.


    The cost was everything I had to leave behind.


    This immortal body was a curse when I looked over my shoulder to see the charred trail of my life that was engulfed in order to obtain it. Wherever my life was headed? Gone. All of my aspirations and dreams? Gone, too. Never to go home to my mother, my father, whose names and faces escaped me already. Never to see all the people I love again. If you didn¡¯t want to kill everyone you held near and dear, you wouldn¡¯t go fiddling around in their lives. You¡¯d leave well enough alone. You¡¯re nothing more than a monster now.


    I was new to my... kind. Very new. As in, only a few months into my curse. It was like having a new birthday. Yay. I was nothing more than an infant compared to some of the others who were in the hundreds, even thousands. I was too young to even be near civilization, let alone near my family. God help you if you get emotional. It¡¯s worse when you let your emotions take hold of you. You lose track of who you are, what you have to focus on. Next thing you know, the world around you fogs up and all you can hear is the sound of their hearts pumping blood through their body. It¡¯s not hard to imagine what comes next. I could feel my eyes sting as salty tears welled up and rolled over my cheeks.


    I cried often. Always too upset to function properly. I missed everything. My school, my family, my friends. My life¡­ Even if I couldn¡¯t remember it, I knew it was there, hiding behind a screen that wrapped around my mind. Memories faded into fuzz, like when you turn on your T.V. and you can see the outline of what you want to watch, but it¡¯s jumbled into a mess of black and white bugs obscuring your view. Trying to see through the ant race.


    More tears ran lines down my cheeks and plopped into my open hands resting, palms up, on my folded legs. Almost like I was expecting my life to fall back to me, into my open grip, and I could take it back, or at least form it around what I try to call a life now. I peered through the water spilling out over my lashes and tried to find peace in the view of the forest surrounding the city. I closed my eyes, ignoring the sounds of the people bustling around below, and listened carefully to the wind in the trees.


    Shrill voices cut through the air and made me jump. My bloodshot eyes shot open to the sight of children running down the sidewalk.


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    ¡°Eyevoree! Eyevoree! Won¡¯t you touch the skies with me? Or will you sit up on your house and cry until your eyes fall out!¡±


    Ah¡­ Kids. Gotta love ¡¯em.


    The children of Anglaya. Back to visit¡­ again. They usually took a different route from school, but frequented my house when they were feeling bored. I think they thought my life was severely lacking any entertainment. Really I should be grateful.


    I couldn¡¯t remember if this rhyme was something they made up on their own or if one of their parents penned it for them. As if anyone had any respect for a mad woman. I snorted. They always had little sing-song tunes, rhymes and riddles and they just loved to make my life more pleasant. ¡°What do you call a leaky gargoyle? You call it Eyevoree!¡± Get it? It¡¯s because I¡¯m on top of my house like a gargoyle. Are you laughing as hard as I am?


    There were four little boys, and they loved to torture me. They were all short with pudgy, boyish faces. They had annoying little crushes on me and attempted to flirt with their scarring words; the way a boy pushes a small girl into the mud and laughs, hoping that she will think him charming. They were also just mean, as I imagined all children were. I genuinely tried hard not to pay rude kids any mind, but they still had me aching to backhand them across the yard. They danced around in my view while I wiped away my tears. They continued on, chanting and twirling three stories below me. Even as young boys, they were incredibly graceful. They twirled and mocked me, spinning and hopping on and off my new fence. The new fence I just fixed last week. Again. Bastards.


    I hated them. They loved to make me even more miserable than this life offered. They taunted and spun, sang and danced. Their piercing chimes rang in my ears and maddened me. I felt my cheeks grow hot and my heart raced.


    ¡°Eyevoree! Eyevoree!¡± I covered my ears to shut out the sound and suppress my tottering temper. I bit my lip to let the pain distract me from my fragile state of my mind; I felt black blood settle in a pool on my tongue. I pressed my palms into my ears trying to block out the sound, internally battling the need to cry or scream, but it seeped through my fingers. Normally I was able to ignore them long enough for them to get bored and leave, but I couldn¡¯t handle their crap today. Not anymore.


    Finally, I felt myself shatter. I snapped my head up and set my eyes on them. They kept dancing until one, who looked like the youngest, most likely eleven or twelve as a human, noticed my glare and shushed the rest. I slowly stood up, keeping my leer, and stepped off my roof into open air. The sound of my feet hitting the ground made them all flinch. I had their full attention.


    I had landed right in front of the oldest, I¡¯d presumed. He couldn¡¯t have been any older than fifteen as a human. He cringed slightly, but straightened up to make himself as tall as his bones would allow after noticing my smile and severely misinterpreting it. I still towered over this vermin, stuck in adolescence, dozens of times the natural year span.


    Even our young, children or even babies, still grew old; it just happened so slowly that no one really cared for turning children. If you felt like taking care of a baby or young child for decades, that was your prerogative, but it wasn¡¯t a smart choice. They were disastrously bad at keeping secrets. They were also disgusting. Exhibit A.


    The boy grinned and put his hands on his hips, looking around at his flock and feeling proud to be approached. My smile melted away, replaced by a menacing sneer, and fear came into his eyes as he finally realized this was not a friendly or flirty encounter. I bared my teeth and a feral hiss made him take a step back, raising his hand in front of him. He stared, all of that arrogance wiped from his face, and waited for me to react.


    They were about to bolt¡ªI could see their spindly legs tense up¡ªwhen I flicked my arm out and grabbed him by the neck. The movement was so lethally fast that he cried out. I bent down so that our eyes were level and I was right in his face. The others let out a sharp gust of air and tensed in a meaningless effort to defend their friend. I dug carefully polished nails into his neck. ¡°Back,¡± I spit at the others. The boy whimpered and waved them off. They stopped but readied themselves for a battle and I chuckled, not even bothering to look at any of them.


    ¡°Now what were you saying? I couldn¡¯t hear you from all the way up there. Care to repeat it?¡± I breathed. He cowered when I spoke and struggled slightly, but my grip on his neck was iron. He reached up, fingers tearing at my own, but I held him secure.


    ¡°N-nothing, Eyevoree.¡± His gaze did not meet mine. He stared at the floor with wide, yellow-brown eyes. From the corner of my eye, I saw several people hovering several houses down, alerted to the noise. Mumbling and gasping was my sign to wrap this up.


    ¡°Good. Now¡­,¡± I put my hand around his cheeks and pushed him onto the floor, jabbing a sharp fingernail in his face, ¡°you stay away from my house! All of you!¡± I pointed swiftly to each one of them, ¡°You come by here to bother me again and I¡¯ll beat your ass from here to the Elders!¡± They all jumped at the abrupt change in volume like I had electrocuted them. I looked at each one of their faces individually, slowly, deliberately, and turned around. They were so beautiful.


    I curled my legs beneath me and jumped onto the side of my house, several feet up, and kicked off of it, sending myself higher still into the air. I did a backflip over my yard, over their heads, and while I was upside down, I gave them one last smug look and threw my arms out to either side of my body. I brought them down hard against my thighs. My bones creaked, but as my arms collided with my sides, they burst into immense purple wings.


    I soared over them and lightly kicked the brunette one off my fence, sending him face first into a mouthful of grass. I turned and flew up to my sanctuary and gracefully landed on my toes, all the while feeling their eyes glued to me as I demonstrated my superior skill that far surpassed theirs when it shouldn¡¯t have. I folded my ankles and with a little huff, assumed a cross-legged form again, facing outward to my world. As I touched solid land once more, my wings returned my arms to me and I gently folded them in my lap. I looked down at the boys who caused me so much torment. They were still staring in amazement at me, mouths slightly ajar.


    Flying was very simple, once you had your wings¡­ well, for me it was. I was the only one of my kind ever in our history to obtain my wings so quickly. It usually took several months to get them to emerge, and many years to master them successfully. The young children, or those that had only just been turned, could use their newly acquired wings to pointlessly flap, but they could not ascend into the skies for some time. For me, it was as easy as breathing used to be. It wasn¡¯t something that was easy to explain. It felt natural. You just had to learn to will them into existence. I simply told my wings to pop and they did so. I was also the only one of us with colored wings. They came in all shapes and sizes but never were a pair any other color than black. Mine were a dazzling, dark purple, just as my eyes were.


    Yet another mystery about me. Everyone got the eyes of their old self, with just a hint of abnormality, like the eldest boy with the butterscotch eyes. He could pass for brown, but to us, we knew he was not human. It made it easier for our kind to blend into society, and easier to detect another one of us, even in disguise. If we ever wanted to go out, we could do so because our eyes weren¡¯t red or black or any strange variations from human stories.


    But my eyes; My eyes sparkled a magnificent violet with flecks of blue and yellow. I was an outcast. I was not meant to fit in. Not meant to be part of this world, to blend. If my appearance wasn¡¯t enough to estrange me from the rest of my peers, my personality sealed the deal. It¡¯s not like it mattered; I stayed away from others most days. I despised them merely for what they were, what I was, and the fact that they accepted it and actually enjoyed it. They despised me for my differences. It worked out for the better; I stayed away from them as much as possible because I hated them, and they stayed away from me from fear and confusion.


    I looked at the boys and grinned, waving my hand in dismissal. They still stood, shocked and embarrassed, but finally scrambled away at the indication for them to leave before I did break them. Glancing at the adults down the street, I flashed them a vulgar gesture. Some women gasped in outrage. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, turning my attention back to the little brats. I watched them flit away and take my eyes to somewhere that I could rest them and see past to a world that made sense.

 Chapter Two - New Beginning

    Who was I anyway? Was I still Eyevoree Lydia Miyor, or did she die too? Could I still be me and not be me at all?


    Or was I a monster? A monster who craved the death of the innocent and the blood that runs through their veins. I wanted to scream. I hated being someone else. Someone I didn¡¯t know. An ugly beast.


    I looked out from my roost at our land. It was a vast open kingdom, but with walls on every side. How could I call this home and not prison? I couldn¡¯t claim it as home even if it did seem like one. I only woke up here. I don¡¯t remember how I got here anyway. The only thing I remember is being carried away and then feeling like I was falling. I couldn¡¯t feel land nor air. Nothing. I knew I was alive, or at least that my mind could think, but I couldn¡¯t feel my hands, my legs, my lungs breathing air. I couldn¡¯t see. I only saw blackness.


    But then my body ached like it never had before. The ache began to sharpen, and though all five of my senses were shot, I could feel pain. Only pain. It felt like I was ripping open from the inside out and like millions of bugs were crawling under my skin. I screamed but nothing surfaced. I tried to move my arms to claw at my body and stop the horrible torture of my body, but I was paralyzed. I could feel nothing. My agony lasted for so long I could have been in that hell for a year. Then I opened my eyes and was in what I now claim as my room.


    I now sat on my roof with my eyes closed as a memory washed over me.


    After waking up in my room, I lay there, just blinking. Had it all been a dream? What a horrible nightmare. I felt my face, my body, and nothing had any apparent change.


    Blinking up at the ceiling, it was immediately clear that this was not my home. I jolted up from where I lay, taking in my strange surroundings. I was in a bedroom, but I had never been here before. It looked unremarkable. A typical room with a bed, dresser, closet. I took a moment to scan my body for any sign of injury or answers. I looked at my hands and arms. My skin was lighter¡­ luminous. I spotted a mirror across the room and drifted to it in a daze.


    Collecting the details I saw in the mirror, I knew I didn¡¯t recognize this stranger standing in front of me. The eyes were wrong, violet and not natural. The lips too full and perfect. I slowly moved to touch the mirror, and the woman moved with me. Her delicate curves, cut from glorious white marble, copied my every movement, doing as I did. I pinched myself hard to shatter this illusion and cried out as my flesh protested.


    An icy chill ran through me as I saw her mouth open. Long, threatening fangs hung down and gleamed in a row of pearly white teeth. They were only a quarter of an inch longer than regular canine teeth, but they were pointed so dramatically that they were ghoulish. I lifted my lip to reach up to my mouth and hissed as I pressed my finger into the fang and felt the sting of flesh being punctured. I stared at my finger with frightened eyes as I watched the blood pool. It was black.


    This can¡¯t be happening, I thought to myself. Looking around, I tried to find any familiarity in the room I woke up in. I had never been here and had no idea where I was, gleaning very little from my frantic glances around these four walls. I went to the window to see something, anything that could indicate where I could be, or even the time of day. I shifted the curtains and hissed, stumbling back several steps. The light was so bright that I couldn¡¯t bear to even look out the window. I fumbled blindly with the curtains and straightened them to cover as much light as I could. After rubbing my eyes and blinking out the burned splotches dancing in my vision, I went to the door and cracked it open. I could hear no one, but my hearing was also¡­ different. Everything seemed too loud, too deep. It was as if I was cupping my ears, but more. The sound of my feet reverberated off the walls and came back to my ears with a clarity I had never had before.


    After deciding there was no immediate threat, I tentatively wandered out of the room and smelled something intoxicating. It wrapped around me, gripping me at the waist and dragging me down a tall staircase. While my eyes darted back and forth for any sign of my captors, I had little say in the force that pulled me toward it. It tugged me down into a massive kitchen and the scent led me to a fridge. I stopped in front of it, confused. When I opened it, it was filled with jars full of red liquid. Blood. Nausea and something primal welled up inside of me.


    Slamming the refrigerator door shut, I turned around and leaned against it. I grabbed my head while my terror whirled. Glancing in front of me, I noticed a table in the center of the room piled with papers. I walked over and saw that they all had my name on them. I grabbed the stack and flipped through it. Everything was a legal document: deed to a house, car registration, storage units. On and on it went, documenting my possessions I had never seen before, nor had the money to afford. I flipped the car registration over and gasped. I was the proud owner of a red 2015 458 Ferrari Spider. My dream car, and an expensive one, at that. I stared blankly at the paper and my hands began to shake violently.


    A small envelope I hadn¡¯t noticed suddenly caught my attention. My name was delicately written on the front. I set down the registration and reached for the envelope. I opened it with trembling fingers and, in perfect handwriting, all it said was:


    Please forgive me.


    My head was swimming. I was already in ownership of a car, a property, and a new life; and all of this was apparently my new ¡°home¡±. I slid down to the cold tile and pulled my legs to my chest, holding them tightly, trying to remember what happened, but I could come up with nothing.


    That¡¯s where I started. And that is where I start my ¡°life story.¡± I had nothing else. Memories from my past life, my human life, were all a blur. Faces disintegrated when I tried to picture them, and though I knew who I attempted to see¡ªall of the people in my life who made it worth living¡ªmy foggy brain resisted all efforts to draw up the memories.


    Anger brought me back to reality and I slammed my fist down hard on the roof and came up with a handful of paneling. Who cares? I didn¡¯t buy it.


    My little fits of anger and shame turned into abuse toward my possessions. I broke a lot of things. I got in a lot of fights with walls, and to my surprise, I always came out on top¡ªrecently I had done some interior remodeling when my tantrum demolition forced me to finish off what was left of a crumbling wall that I had brutalized over the course of a couple weeks. Sooner or later I expected the house to come crashing down on top of me. I hoped it did.


    I looked around toward the ground of the courtyard beneath me and saw nothing interesting. The same thing I saw every day. Just different faces, though some were becoming familiar.


    My house overlooked a pool vicinity. There were two large pools, each two or three times the standard size of a pool, and an enormous jacuzzi in between them; it held some twenty people at this minute. It was stunningly beautiful. Due to the expertise of some people that liked decorating our drab home, it actually looked well put together. In reality, it was only meant to mask the simple fact that we lived in confinement. Everyone sat around and chattered like old hens. I watched them laugh and play, disgusted that they could find any happiness.


    And of course, everyone with their drinks. I zeroed in on a glass in some woman¡¯s hand and I flexed my fingers anxiously.


    I avoided blood more than I should. We tended to get pretty unpleasant when we were thirsty, dying notwithstanding. The sight of the blood made my entire mouth fill with saliva. I frowned at the involuntary reaction and silently cursed myself while I tested the dryness of my mouth to determine just how thirsty I was at the moment.


    In our world, blood is the key aspect to survival. Actually, it was the only aspect. We were incredibly durable and could live without much, but not blood. Food was pleasant and tasted just as good to us as it did to anyone. Better. However, it was the equivalent of eating dessert for three square meals a day; it would sustain you for a while, but eventually you would become severely malnourished. Though I¡¯m pretty sure a human on a dessert diet wouldn¡¯t eventually rip someone¡¯s throat out.


    On the ¡°bright¡± side, we only drank the blood of animals. Creatures treated like blood bags, not living things. Of course, it was better and safer than taking a risk that the myths were true, but mostly we just didn¡¯t want to attract unwanted attention or cause death to people who didn¡¯t deserve it. We used to be human, too. And we remember fear.


    I hated blood, but we needed it. Almost everyone I saw always had a drink. Our wonderful blood drinks. Nobody liked to be thirsty. Not for blood. It hurt too much; and eventually, it would kill us.


    Symptoms could vary from person to person, but there were telltale signs that were universal. At first, you¡¯d simply become fatigued. After a few days, you¡¯d be unforgivably irritable. You¡¯d get combative mostly, and you¡¯d tend to get a burst of strength and adrenaline before losing it all. A lot of fights broke out this way in our world, but it didn¡¯t last long. Too many people to intervene. In terms of your body, your skin would pale even more so and take on a milky, see-through state. It would almost¡­ thin. Like rice paper. Your eyes would sink in and the bags under your eyes would darken. It was easy to tell by appearance alone that someone was lacking blood and becoming ill. Without immediate treatment¡ªso, some blood¡ªyour strength would begin to evaporate from your body. After that initial burst of energy, you¡¯d start to go into a rapid decline. Headaches accompanied by fits of rage that your starving body had no energy for would worsen until you eventually lashed out at something that you killed or that killed you. In your last moments, you¡¯d lie in brilliant ecstasy of colorful hallucinations and muscle spasms until your cursed heart released your damned soul. You¡¯d die a slow and unimaginably painful death. How did I know all of this? I learned the hard way that you couldn¡¯t escape blood. I¡¯d been at least halfway there, maybe more.


    One day, I woke up from a blackout to a pounding behind my eyes that brought me to my senses. I was strapped down to my bed with ropes and cords, and surrounded by unfamiliar faces displaying an array of emotions, all ranging from concern to irritation. In an instant, everything came flooding back to me. I had been in the streets below and nearing a frenzy that needed community intervention. The memory was like a strike of lightning as I recalled where I had been that day and what had brought me to this point.


    I had been on my roof when, without provocation, I had begun to yell at passersby about nothing in particular. I jumped down from the rooftop and started pushing a man I didn¡¯t know and asking him why he was walking by my house. Paranoia had ripped through me and I questioned his motives. Thinking back on it, I couldn¡¯t believe how ridiculous I sounded. It had immediately turned into a fight with me throwing disoriented punches and kicks. It didn¡¯t take long before some of the guards came running from the wall and tackled me to the ground. It had surely only taken them moments to recognize the dark circles under my concave eyes and the sickly pallor to my skin.


    The memory made me flush with anger. I felt like a lab rat under the scrutiny of the people around me waiting for some reaction. Upon seeing coherence in my eyes, they immediately removed the bonds that held me down. I shot up from my bed, humiliated and furious, and ushered the strangers out of my room, down the stairs, and out the front door without a word. A day later, I received a call from a doctor in the city that told me everything I needed to know about what would happen to me if I didn¡¯t start taking care of myself. He told me he¡¯d be making housecalls. I told him to go screw himself.


    The presence of blood in the city came in many forms, but the main attractions were the appalling drinks offered at each corner of the city. Our blood came from animals, most from the wolves that lived in the surrounding forests. We could really drink any blood, but you can definitely get a lot more blood from a wolf than a squirrel. I¡¯d occasionally hear gossip in the times where I was forced to seek out blood, and I would overhear people talking about various things. At one point I heard someone say that a lot of people in the city think that wolves tasted better than most of the animals in our woods. The fact that they could drink so freely was repulsive. Drinking experimentally was downright savage. I had to force the liquid to my lips just to drink. What made it worse was the fact that it actually tasted great. It certainly tasted like blood, there was no denying that, but it had a sweetness to it, and I presumed the physical attraction was purely instinctual¡­ or maybe animalistic. It made me sick to death with myself.


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    I suppose you could consider us ¡°vegetarians¡± in a morbid way. Compared to human legends, we seemed downright harmless. We had our own legends, too. It was said that, supposedly, if you drank the blood of a human you would become savage. Your eyes didn¡¯t turn crimson like in the human stories, but rather, they would turn wholly black. Like a shark when they smelled blood in the water. The eye would become a void of midnight and violence. At this point, no one knew if it was true or just a myth, but no one wanted to take a chance. This was mostly why we hid deep in the depths of our own personal hell¡ªwell, that¡¯s how I saw it anyway¡ªto keep mistakes out of our reach and out of the Elders'' hair.


    Our city was heavily blanketed by vast trees in the thick forests of Maine. Even from the sky, you could only see the tangle of trees. It was impossible for humans to see through the glamor that protected our city. You had to already know what you were looking for. I was never sure if it was magic or mirage, but it supposedly kept us safe. Or was it keeping the humans safe?


    No humans ventured too far into our forest from the outside anyway. If they did, it was simple, they were killed. Bloodlessly and humanely, if there were such a thing to compare with murder. The humans could not be eaten, so they were killed as quickly as the guard could manage, and burned. The guard was made up of some of the oldest of our kind that volunteered to help maintain our secrecy. A small force worked for the Elders and was tasked out at each gate and along the walls, but the majority were people that were happy to keep us safe. They didn¡¯t carry guns or anything, but in my opinion, they should have. I thought humans were insane, even if I used to be one of them. They were paid and could actually take time off any time they wanted, so really it seemed like a hobby. It was all a very easy process. However, that process was tormenting for those of us that were less accustomed to human contact.


    First of all, the most horrible part was that they smelled so good. They would get close and it took most of what all of us had not to jump the fence to get to them. Maybe that¡¯s why the walls were so high. Not to keep something out¡­ but to keep the monsters in.


    Second, if their smell wasn¡¯t enough of a temptation while they were alive, it was at an excruciating peak while they burned. Fire could kill us¡ªmost mortal weapons could if you tried hard enough¡ªso burning would stop anyone from being tempted to run in after them. At least we didn¡¯t have to hear them screaming¡­


    The city, our whole world, was guarded by volunteers, camouflaged by our painted walls, and protected by everyone who called themselves an ally to our city. It was our duty if the situation arose. When someone got close enough to penetrate our secret, a guard took them out; a steady death here and there was enough to tell the humans to stay away. They were under the impression that ¡°the forest was just too dangerous to be explored.¡± Convinced, ignorantly, that there were beasts and animals too wild, deep within the woods and it was altogether safer to stay out. You had to travel so many miles through forest just to get to us that it could probably just be passed up as humans getting lost in the woods on hikes. That happened all the time, right? The humans simply and satisfyingly agreed that the animals of the woods would continue to prevent future ventures and didn¡¯t want to risk any more lives. Living near small towns had these advantages; they didn¡¯t get suspicious.


    Though, every once in a while, an unlucky hiker got too close. There would be a waiting period to see if he or she would notice anything about our town, heard noises from the bustle of the people, saw a rooftop peeking over the edges of the thick walls that looked like more of the forest reaching on to the horizon. A quiet alarm would sound inside to indicate a human was near. It was quiet enough for the human to not be able to hear, but our ears could pick the sound. Everyone would cease all activity and stop talking, moving, even breathing. If the human didn¡¯t notice and walked by, they were left alone, but if they did, it was already too late for them.


    Though the faint smell of human would sometimes trickle through on a swift breeze, stinging my nostrils and setting my heart racing, I had only witnessed this once; but that was one time too many. My house was at the edge of the North wall. From its peak, it overlooked the vast expanse of trees and rivers that could capture so many horrific sights; I preferred to keep my back to it. All of us, even brand new to this life, could stand the tendrils of human scent curling through the air and invading our space. I wasn¡¯t sure how close they had to be to start posing a serious threat to our will, but I didn¡¯t want to find out.


    Our great numbers could take out mostly anything. We were pretty sure of that, though we had yet to test our battle skills out with anything more than a few guards at a time. After so many deaths, the humans sent no more groups in, so there was no need for experiments. It was a lost cause for them. I constantly felt like we were fortunate that no one sent significant numbers or teams to figure out what the hell was wrong with this forest. I had to assume the government didn¡¯t care about a podunk town on the outskirts of society. Maybe we were just lucky.


    So we lived in silent tranquility and never any less. Too much harmony. I just wished something bad would happen, so I could get off my ass and off my roof. I really was like my own personal gargoyle.


    It¡¯s not like we were actually prisoners. We could go out of the city walls, but had to take extreme precautions. We had to never fly in busy areas. Even at night. Everyone seemed to notice everything these days. Anyone seeing a humanoid creature flying overhead would probably end up being tossed in a pit with the crazies, but it wasn¡¯t worth trouble. Even though people would not believe someone who claimed to have seen us, the bolder story hunters would start to investigate and eventually come looking. It was our job to not provoke those who didn¡¯t need to lose their life, and it only took one person to change the tide, one person who got too close and bled a little, enough for one guard to give in to temptation, one person to scramble past the walls.


    We also weren¡¯t allowed to compete in any human sports, for obvious reasons. No matter how much you tried to hold back, someone was bound to notice a competitor flying faster than a Ferrari down a race track, or able to lift a house over their head.


    You had to keep a low profile and blend in with humans as best you could; moving around on a human schedule, acting like they did, dressing like they did. I think it went without saying that getting romantically involved with a human was completely and utterly out of the question.


    There were so many outer city rules and risks that it wasn¡¯t even worth going out when our city was as big as it is anyway. I wouldn¡¯t have bothered at all, even if I wanted to. Setting aside my age, my eyes looked like something out of a horror film, and I would attract so much attention you¡¯d think I was a UFO that crash landed on the White House. Plus, I was just too stubborn to find any fun in between sulking periods.


    I had been daydreaming a lot today. I just need something different. I often wondered if I could find happiness if I just gave into my new life. I could learn more things about myself, explore new places, maybe even make a friend. Though it was hard to make friends when everyone either thought you were a freak or hit on you, or hit on you because they thought you were a freak. Any move I made, someone was giving me a dirty look or sex eyes, really no in between. It was like I was this extreme taboo. I¡¯ve never wanted to blend in more in my life.


    I evoked resentment and jealousy from the women. I could feel it radiate from them. And I could feel it in my mind, almost like they were sending the energy straight into my head and tried to burn me with it. Most of them were quite beautiful, and they had a gleaming array of shiny hair; and although they had average and normal colored eyes, they shone like bright lights. There was no reason for them to hate me; they were very stunning. They were only jealous of me because I was different, and, unfortunately, attracted their men.


    None of the male specimens in Anglaya were appealing. Not one. Not to say that they weren¡¯t all gorgeous; they were, with their cut, perfected bodies and their sharp features. They just lost their heads around me. Their minds would clear and their eyes would glaze over. I stunned them and made them stupid. If they weren¡¯t terrified of me, they drooled over me. I suppose I was attractive, with long, back-length, chocolate-brown hair and fluorescent, purple eyes. Occasionally they would walk by my house and stare at me with hopes that I wouldn¡¯t notice.


    I did notice. Every time.


    So I dressed a little less than modest. So what? That¡¯s what my house provided anyway. Whoever gave me my house matched my clothes exactly with how I used to dress. I thanked them for that. It was one of the only things that gave me any sense of normalcy.


    My low-cut pants and cropped shirts that showed off my pale belly were frowned upon. Only by the older women, though. And only because their pathetic husbands preferred to look at me and not them. I could tell the younger women and girls closer to my age resented me, but they also were jealous because they didn¡¯t look like me. I could feel that, too. I sometimes wished I were them, still beautiful but able to find some kind of happiness here. But alas, I was me, and I was a dirty harlot.


    The men would try to woo me and I just watched them with unmoving eyes, waiting for them to get lost. One was passing now and smiling a charming, deadly smile. I stood up and twirled around and he smiled larger, probably shocked to get any reaction out of me at all considering everyone''s track records. He stopped and raised his hand to wave and I swung off the roof and into the open window of my bedroom, and slammed it shut. I looked out just in time to see him scowl at the rejection and watched his ego bubble away as he shuffled, head hung low, back to the pool. I giggled a little and walked through my old-fashioned mansion.


    The walls of my home were an odd, gray wood and had luxurious designs carved into them. The house had everything anyone could need, from a fully functional kitchen that I never cooked in, to a ballroom, in which I danced alone. I leisurely made my way downstairs, running my fingers across the walls and spiraling banister, and made my way to the smaller of the larger seating rooms. I crossed the open space to set myself in a rocking chair. This room was mostly empty, save for a huge bookshelf and some furniture. The bookshelf stood ten feet high and five wide, and was stuffed with dozens of my favorite books I hardly ever read. Sitting against the wall across from me was an enormous couch, able to fit ten people. Sometimes the extravagance of the house made me sick. I think it was some kind of cruel, sick joke to make me feel small and alone.


    In the corner by the window was a stereo system and next to it, a cabinet with an outrageously large collection of music. I loved my music and played it often at only one volume: loud. No one ever protested, so I had to assume my walls were soundproof or no one cared. Either that or they knocked to tell me to keep it down and I simply could not hear them. I walked over to it and put on a mournful tune; a violin cried out, echoing the sadness inside my heart. I let out a heavy breath and looked around.


    The door to one of my many walk-in closets stood open and I could see my clothes sticking out here and there waiting to be touched and worn. That was one thing I absolutely loved about my house; my endless supply of beautiful clothes. Clothes of all styles. At any hour of the day or night, I would play dress up with myself and sigh at my lack of friends to join me and laugh as we had sleepovers and talked about nonsense. I was unhappy and alone. I stopped trying to understand how the person who bound me here knew so much about me. It always set my hairs on end.


    I went to the closet and ran my fingers on the soft fabric. Not all of the clothes were inappropriate. I had dress clothes of all kinds, dresses for fancy occasions, and even ball gowns. I was well equipped for any event, but didn¡¯t see myself attending one in any near future.


    I wandered back over to the rocking chair and collapsed into it with an exaggerated and dramatic huff. I closed my eyes and rocked back and forth, attempting to nap in lieu of anything fun to do. After about ten minutes, I scoffed and stood. I crossed back to the closet with my clothes and peered at myself in the mirror. I prodded at the dark circles under my eyes and noted the chalky color of my skin. There was no way I was going to be able to relax when I was this hungry. I turned to the kitchen, dreading the inevitable. Despite knowing that I needed blood and that it tasted perfectly appetizing, the act itself was always tedious and spiritually exhausting.


    Dragging my feet into the next room, I turned to glare at the fridge. I tore it open and leered inside. To my dismay, only a few condiments, an empty pizza box, and some expired orange juice mocked me. Had I really let my food supply run this scarce? With another shot of panic, I realized that I would have no choice but to venture into the market today. I shut the door of the fridge in disgust and stalked to the kitchen table. Throwing myself into a chair like a petulant child, I slammed my forehead to the table in a tantrum.


    ¡°Ow.¡± I said, my voice muffled as I lay face down.


    With another deep sigh, I grabbed my purse and went to the front door. I reached for the handle, but didn¡¯t turn it. I stood there for some time before sighing again and beginning to open it.


    A thought came over me then and I pushed the door back to position with a click. Crossing to the closet again, I yanked it open. I searched the endless line of hangers until finally settling on a modest blouse with the ruffled front. Poking around the shelves above, I found a pair of black slacks and went to pull off my clothes to change. If I was going to force myself to venture into the market today, surrounded by those creatures of evil, I was going to wear something nice and not draw attention to myself. I was given pause at the thought that I was technically one of those creatures of evil, but shrugged it off. Technicality.


    After changing into my new outfit and straightening myself in the mirror, I felt good about my odds. If I looked nice and not like a night walker today, surely I could find some peace and not be glared at. It was much less that I cared about angry women and their men with wandering eyes, and more about the fact that I just really didn¡¯t have the mental strength to punch anyone in the face today. I didn¡¯t find myself with that particular strength any day, but that was neither here nor there.


    Certain that I looked like an upstanding member of society, I donned my purse once more and managed a confident stride before turning back for the door. ¡°Here goes nothing,¡± I mumbled. I turned the handle and opened the door to the blazing sun.

 Chapter Three - Tiny Spark

    The sun was brighter now, shining high in the sky, and I squinted at it after leaving my dark and despairing house. I glared it for being so bright, and for my body being so weak and frail. I reached into my purse and pulled out a scratched up pair of sunglasses. Looking around to see if anyone noticed the hermit emerging from her crumbling tower, I saw a few people at the corner of my yard looking in my direction. They seemed startled at my sudden appearance and lowered their faces as they quickly hurried away at my glance. I shook my head, already feeling defeated and isolated.


    I suppose my attitude didn¡¯t exactly invite people to want to be my friend, but despite my demeanor, it was always obvious that I frightened people with how different I was, and that was something I certainly couldn¡¯t help. In fact, a lot of people that I ran into on a regular basis made no effort to hide how they felt about me and my presence in the city. It was just something that I had grown accustomed to, but that didn¡¯t mean it didn¡¯t sting. I was only human. Well¡­ not really.


    There were so many aspects of my life before all of this that escaped me, but my sense of self was one of the few things that never seemed to shimmer away in my memories. I knew in my heart I didn¡¯t used to be this callous. In fact, I loved mingling with people. I was such a social butterfly when I was human. The dramatic turn my outlook on the world and the people around me took from the moment I woke up in this house was staggering. Though I remained myself, with similar perspectives, wants, and needs, I simply could not find the drive to be the person I used to be. What was the point?


    I decided that I just needed to get this over with and get back home. Squaring myself, I walked down the path that led out the gate and quietly unlatched it. Unmercifully, it screeched like an old, rod-iron fence and I winced. Of course, I now had everyones¡¯ attention. Various bits of chatter stopped abruptly and heads swiveled around from all directions to glare at the offensive sound. I ducked my head down and gave an awkward half smile that didn¡¯t reach my eyes, or probably even look like a smile. I didn¡¯t even know why I was trying. I began to scamper down the sidewalk. I was so tired and hungry that my normal, snarky resolve was weak and pitiful. I just wanted to hide within myself and I felt particularly solemn today. I needed to buy food, grab blood, get home, and then nap for six hours.


    Walking down the sidewalk at a brisk pace, I was greeted with a soft breeze and the chittering of birds. I relished in the sweetness of it for a moment, briefly remembering when I was younger and my family went camping. The memory was thick with fog and slipped away as easily as it came, but it was there, gentle and unyielding. I sighed blissfully as I was able to recall my mother sitting by a lake. Or was it a river? It didn¡¯t matter. The small prick of light in the back of my mind was all I needed to remind me that I once existed in another lifetime, and that my family was safe and happy somewhere. I smiled, despite myself, and kept walking, ignoring the eyes turning to glue themselves to me as I made my journey to the market. To be honest, I probably looked like a total weirdo smiling at myself while on my way to burn down a school full of children.


    I lived six blocks from the marketplace, so it wouldn¡¯t take me too long to get there. It was set up a bit old fashioned, in my opinion, but I supposed it wasn¡¯t much different from your typical farmer¡¯s market. We did have modern convenience and food stores, but these people seemed to enjoy the social aspect of the market. It had small booths that held a variety of items, from home grown fruits and vegetables to knick-knacks and household goods. A lot of the goods were paid for and brought in en masse, choppered in by whomever had authorization to do it. We had a heli-pad, but I had no idea how they were able to ship things in without the whole air force shooting down an unidentified plane flying out in the middle of the forest. I supposed there were protocols I didn¡¯t know about, and a hefty exchange of money between a lot of powerful hands. Clearly way above my pay grade. The Elders were ancient; it made sense that they had a lot of coin and weight to throw around. The only thing that seemed to matter was that they provided and they kept us safe. I didn¡¯t know how it all worked, but I didn¡¯t really care.


    Aside from shipments, there was a large chunk of the city population that had gardens in their yards or on the roof of their building. People put in the work to pass the time and to make an honest living. Everyone in the city tried to work jobs like a normal person, but we didn¡¯t have homeless people either. If someone didn¡¯t have the means, they were provided for regardless. So the simple act of working and being able to exchange currency and goods was just to live a normal life. I felt like a lot of people were just going through the motions.


    Marking the halfway point from my house to the market was a small chapel. It was one of three in the city, but various groups met together for religions of many types. Evil monsters or not, spirituality and faith was still strong in many. There might have even been a handful that found their faith after their change. Maybe some lost theirs. My eyes trailed up the building and rested on the golden cross at the peak of the rooftop, glinting in the sunlight. I scowled at it and silently cursed God for letting this happen to me. I was a good Christian, you know? I thought at Him. I was faithful and you let this happen. I mean, I sinned a little, but aren¡¯t you supposed to have my back on that? I expected a bolt of lightning to strike down and smite me where I stood for being such a total blasphemer, but the only thing I felt was a carved out, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. No unspoken lightning zapped me from the sky, and no one answered back.


    I scuffed my shoe on the ground and continued on. The walk had me sweating and exhausted as the summer sun relentlessly beat down on me. The sun didn¡¯t make us burst into flames and dissolve into a wisp of smoke and ash, but it did drain us when we stayed in it for a while. Just slightly more than it would a human staying out in the sun and heat all day at the beach, and in a much shorter period of time. It wasn¡¯t usually this bad though. Despite superior endurance, I was more exhausted than I should have been simply because I was lacking blood so much that it was physically apparent now. I noted the dryness of my mouth again and found myself excited¡ªand then promptly disgusted¡ªto finally give my body the true nourishment it begged for.


    The entrance to the market closer to my house was the district with mainly produce and hand-crafted goods, but that wasn¡¯t where I needed to be. I needed to visit the far end first. I would have no strength in me to carry bags of heavy food until I got some blood. I would also get a huge supply for my house. It was a daunting task visiting the ¡°brewery¡± and showing weakness to these people, but it needed to be done. Any of the alternatives were worse. I had only been there a few times since I woke up in Anglaya, but I hated it every time. The supply of blood in my house had lasted weeks, but it had eventually run dry. I could easily get a blood drink from one of the booths near my house, but I wanted to buy in bulk and not have to do this again for a while. It occurred to me then that I could have gotten a drink for strength before I came here and I felt like a complete idiot. Hindsight is always twenty twenty.


    I continued on until I reached the outskirts of the market. Wary of the additional exposure to people, I weighed my options. If I wanted to avoid as many people as possible, I could cut around the market entirely. But that would add at least another half a mile to my trip until I was able to get blood, maybe more, and I would stay in the sun instead of being shielded by the canopy. I waited at the edge of the market, glancing back and forth between it and the path that would take me around. I grimaced, finally deciding that I didn¡¯t have the resolve to make it all the way around. I was already breathless, sweating from head to toe. I turned to the tall, flowery archway that marked the entrance to the slim street that ran through the booths. I could already hear the sounds of the market before I passed the towering hedges along the front. As you walked through the crowded streets of the market, most people would call out to you and announce their goods like a town crier, but they didn¡¯t dare call out to me. They never did.


    ¡°Fresh melons! Get your fresh melons!¡±


    ¡°Home grown strawberries, harvested this morning!¡±


    The voices from all directions rang out and echoed through the arch and spilled out into the neighborhood.


    ¡°Handmade jewelry for the lucky lady in your life!¡±


    I passed the first booth and looked at a sign that said Blood Oranges, delicious AND ironic! Okay that was funny.


    I looked up at the canopy that darkened the whole market. The area was covered by a thin canopy that blocked out most of the sun and allowed people to shop without the harsh rays beating down on them. With the power of the sun on my skin alleviated, I removed my glasses and tucked them back into my purse. The breeze weaved through the streets and hit me again. I tried to find some semblance of peace as I plunged myself into the mad crowd. All I had to do was make it to the other end without drawing too much attention to myself, and then I could walk around the market on the way back.


    ¡°Afternoon ma¡¯am, would you like to sample¡­¡± A man to my left called out to me. Purely by instinct, I turned to him. He was smiling broadly, but as soon as I turned to him and he saw my face¡ªor rather, my eyes¡ªhe blanched. I silently cursed myself for removing my sunglasses.


    Our community had a couple thousand inhabitants, so not everyone knew exactly who I was, let alone my name, but there were enough rumors. Not everyone had seen or met me, but our population was small enough that word got around that the scary chick with the purple eyes was a psychopath. I hadn¡¯t quite figured out why I invoked so much terror in people. I knew I could be a real bitch sometimes, but it seemed like it was excessive, considering how easily I could be overpowered if it ever came down to it. It had come down to it once. I guess the fear of the unknown just tended to frighten people most of all, human or not. That, and my creepy way of life, cooped up in my house and only coming out to glare around or having to be pinned down and force-fed blood was probably disconcerting. The tendrils of my reputation had rapidly made their way through the streets of Anglaya and no doubt reached most, if not all, of its inhabitants. Thus, close contact with most people, particularly strangers who had never seen me before, was exhausting. First meeting was usually the worst, ranging from rude staring to pure fear. It seemed like this encounter would be the latter.


    ¡°Oh¡­ I¡­¡± He was visibly nervous and it seemed to be drawing attention to him, and, more importantly, to me. Exasperated, I cut him off.


    ¡°Sure.¡± I said, not even knowing what I was agreeing to sampling. Looking down, I was relieved to see tiny cups, each with three purple grapes. Looking at the sign on the front of the booth, I read Seedless Grapes, Home-Grown With Love. He continued to cower, gesturing to a cup with a trembling hand.


    ¡°Help yourself¡­¡± He said quietly.


    A few people had stopped what they were doing to send sidelong glances over at our exchange, but I tried to act as naturally as possible. I felt a strong, burning sensation spread across my skin as I was scrutinized by the crowd, clearly waiting to see what I would do. I grabbed a cup and popped a grape into my mouth, enjoying the crunch and surprised at how much flavor it had. The man looked at me meaningfully and furrowed his brow. He waited for a response.


    ¡°These are great,¡± I said, speaking around the grape in my mouth and pointing at the cup. ¡°Much better than anything I¡¯ve ever had.¡± He looked relieved and some of his posture relaxed. ¡°Tell you what,¡± I crunched another grape, ¡°I have to head down to the brewery, but I¡¯ll swing back on my way home and buy a bag.¡±


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    He began to smile tentatively, looking pleased and cautiously excited. ¡°Sounds great¡­ I¡¯ll just¡­ set aside a bag for you. Is uh¡­ two pounds okay?¡± He asked, still ringing his hands.


    ¡°Two sounds perfect. I¡¯ll be back in a bit.¡± I nodded and crunched the last grape. Looking around for a trash can, I found one near the back corner of the table. I reached out to throw it away just as he said, ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll take that.¡± But before I processed his words, he had reached out too, and his hand brushed mine. He flinched like I had burned him and let out a tiny gasp, barely audible above the hum of the market. He peered up at me, nervous again, mortification in his eyes.


    ¡°Oops.¡± I said with a small laugh. ¡°Sorry. Thanks.¡± I gingerly handed him the cup with two fingers, careful not to touch him again. I managed a smile, doing my best to hide how hurt that reaction had made me feel. I nodded again and backed up, daring a look around the adjacent booths. Some people were still turning their heads to listen in while pretending to shop, but the tension in the air had slightly dissipated. That burning heat all over my body began to trickle away. I breathed a sigh of relief and gave the man a curt nod before hurrying down the street again.


    With the shoppers now conscious of my presence in the market, the sounds of the hustle and bustle around me seemed to dim as I made my way through them. The shouting still rang out and laughter continued to bounce around from adults and children alike, but I was keenly aware of a chill in the air that followed as people peered at me up and down the street. I shook my head and stared at my feet as I walked, simply exhausted from the whole experience.


    Why did my life have to be like this? Looking back, I didn¡¯t think I was necessarily popular in school, but I remembered having a ton of friends. I was one of those flies on the wall that could mingle into any group. The jocks, the popular kids, the cheerleaders, the emo kids, the band geeks, the punker weirdos. I could slip into any group and fit in. I was likable, and I had friends. Here, I was hated and had none. I missed actually having people like that in my life, but where do you start? I was a total freak here, both disliked and feared.


    When I finally made it to the brewery, I felt miserable. Both my body and soul were heavy. I opened the door to the large building and the tinkle of bells alerted staff that a customer had arrived. A man stood up to greet me from the register. He seemed surprised to see me, but not terrified like the grape guy.


    ¡°Good morning, Eyevoree. Good to see you today. What can I do for you?¡± He held my gaze warily. He must have been far more confident than everyone else I came across. That, or he was putting up a strong front. He had to have heard the rumors about me if he knew my name when we had never met.


    ¡°Uh¡­ bulk order.¡± I said quietly, the despair palpable in my voice. I was a little alarmed that he knew my name, but also slightly impressed. I had never seen him here before in the infrequent times I¡¯d had to venture out. He either did his job well, or paid attention more than most.


    ¡°Perfect, I¡¯ll get that put together for you.¡± His voice was calm and professional, but I could hear the slight nervousness behind the words he was trying carefully to hide. ¡°While you wait, we have an in-house beer special available. It¡¯s a golden ale with honey and brown sugar on the rim. Just a hint of blood, but it comes together in a beautiful blend of sweet and bold. Interested in sampling it?¡±


    Our city didn¡¯t follow regular human laws, so you could drink alcohol even if you weren¡¯t twenty one. Most of the adults wouldn¡¯t sell to particularly young children on principle, but it takes a lot of alcohol for us to feel a thing. I wasn¡¯t of age, but no one would card me here. Normally I didn¡¯t like beer, but in the interest of being polite, especially after he went through the trouble of saying all of that, I conceded.


    ¡°No I don¡¯t¡­ Yes. Yea that sounds fine..¡± I nodded and sat down at one of the tables. I didn¡¯t bother trying to hide the misery on my face as I looked around.


    The brewery was huge inside. There was seating available for at least one hundred people at any given time. The tables were deep mahogany and each chair was soft and plush with dark browns and light beiges. I looked around at the walls and noted the old-styled decorations, like miniature, model cars and route 66 signs. Mounted animal heads were scattered around the place, from tiny squirrels to a twelve point buck. I made a face at them, knowing I would never understand the allure of hunting. The irony wasn¡¯t lost on me.


    In the back, I could see the brewery where they crafted beers and mead. Massive copper vessels sat behind a glass window, and people worked around them. I assumed that¡¯s where their drinks were made. I noted an even larger silver vessel to the side that just said Blood. I grimaced and looked down at the table.


    The brewery served food as well, so opened the menu to peek at the options. I didn¡¯t normally eat regular sushi or sashimi, but some spicy tuna tempura caught my eye. I hated fish, but tuna didn¡¯t count, right? Chicken of the sea. Plus, deep fried and covered in sauce? Count me in. My growling stomach nearly ordered for me. But it wasn¡¯t really begging for food and I knew it.


    After a few minutes, the man came over to my table and set the beer down. It was a pale yellow color and the rim was dipped in honey and then sugar. It smelled delicious, and I was unable to smell the blood, which was a relief.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I said shyly. ¡°Could I also order a spicy tuna tempura roll?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± he said with a curt nod. ¡°Go ahead and give it a try.¡±


    It took me a second to realize he was talking about the beer. ¡°Oh.¡± I said, fumbling a bit to close the menu. I was a little nervous about sitting here drinking what was essentially a blood beer right in front of this guy while he watched me, but, again, in the interest of playing along, I grabbed the glass. I was trying all sorts of things today. I gingerly took a sip, my lips sticking to the honey a bit around the rim, and was surprised to find that it tasted incredible. The mix of spice and sugar was perfect, and you couldn¡¯t taste the blood at all. The only indication that there was blood lurking in the drink was the jolt of energy I felt pulse through me at the tiny sip. It took a little of the edge off that had followed me from outside. I must have been more thirsty than I thought if such a tiny bit of blood made such a tangible difference.


    ¡°This is really good. And I normally don¡¯t like beer.¡± I took another long drink.


    ¡°I make it myself,¡± he said, beaming. He put a hand to his chest and struck a shallow bow. ¡°Glad you like it. Let me go put your order in.¡± He gave another nod and backed up. With the tension around us all but gone, I sank into my chair and sipped at my beer. I watched him go, and, with his back turned, looked at him more closely.


    He looked like he was a few years older than me, but who really knew? He wore dark brown pants and a black shirt tucked in. A white apron hung around his waist. Observing him, I realized he was actually pretty cute. He was athletic and broad, with huge arms and a strong back. When he turned to the side, I inspected the profile of his face. He had a rugged look to him while still maintaining an extremely pampered appearance. His jaw could cut through a mountain and his hair looked like it was professionally styled. I chuckled, imagining that he probably spent more time in front of the mirror than I did.


    At that moment, he glanced over at the sound of my quiet laughter and saw me checking him out. I let out a tiny gasp into my beer and it shot into my lungs. I bursted into a fit of coughing and sputtering. He turned to help me and I waved him off and gave him a thumbs up.


    ¡°Wrong pipe,¡± I said with a choked voice.


    Oh my God. Could I be more of a freaking loser? Of course the first time I see a cute guy in Anglaya, I choke in front of him. I was going to go home, climb to the roof of my house, and jump off head first.


    Almost as if he guessed my thoughts, he smiled wryly and turned away. He went back to poking at the register and I sank deeper into my booth wanting to die. Just when I thought this day couldn¡¯t get any more humiliating. I rubbed my temples and tried to enjoy my beer. I refused to look at him again.


    I was lost in thought when he came back to bring my order to me. He set the plate down and smiled. A lot of people, mainly those who visited humans a lot, practiced smiling around their fangs so they could hide them and not risk detection. His smile was huge and confident, and his fangs glistened between pearly white, perfect teeth. My stomach fluttered.


    ¡°Thank you¡­¡± I said meekly.


    ¡°How is the beer treating you?¡± He asked with a playful smile. It was an innocent question, one he would have asked any customer, but the look on his face made it clear he was poking fun at me.


    ¡°Well I mean, I liked it until it tried to kill me. Now I¡¯m just suspicious of its intentions.¡± I raised an eyebrow dramatically and slowly slid the beer away.


    He laughed, and the sound was nice. ¡°I promise it¡¯s harmless. I think that was user error.¡± He slid the beer back to me with one finger.


    His snarky attitude was extremely attractive. It was like looking in the mirror, only there was a chiseled dude there instead of a grumpy woman. Maybe I was just attracted to sarcastic men.


    ¡°May I?¡± He gestured to the chair and I paused, shocked that anyone would want to sit with me.


    ¡°Um¡­ sure.¡± I averted my eyes.


    He sat down and reached out a hand across the table. ¡°I¡¯m Danny.¡±


    I took his hand and shook it. When I pulled back and rested my hand back in my lap, I found it trembling. It wasn¡¯t that it was him, it was that, for the first time in months, there was someone in this city besides the Elders that was being nice to me. My heart ached and I relished the contact. I hadn¡¯t realized how much I had been craving it.


    ¡°I¡¯m Eyevoree. But¡­ you already knew that. How did you know that?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Just heard it around town. There¡¯s only one beautiful woman with purple eyes. Hard to miss.¡±


    I tried to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. Not only was he being nice to me, he was flirting with me. My heart raced. I let out a small, nervous chuckle.


    ¡°I see¡­ Well, it¡¯s nice to meet you.¡±


    My stomach growled again and he laughed. ¡°I guess you are hungry.¡±


    We both knew that blood would satiate that growling better than any food could, but most of us still enjoyed eating regular food in addition to drinking blood. There were few people who survived off of blood alone. It was just one of those things we held on to in order to keep our humanity, so to speak. I think he was just trying to act human.


    ¡°Fridge at home was looking pretty sad these days. I have to go shopping after this.¡± I felt myself making an uncomfortable face at this notion and tried to correct it.


    ¡°Well don¡¯t look too excited.¡± He said.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± I said, dipping one of the rolls in an orange sauce. ¡°People just kind of suck, you know?¡±


    He raised his eyebrows. ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°Yea. Really it¡¯s fine. They just¡­ stare. Among other things. You¡¯ve heard the rumors.¡± I shrugged and bit into the tempura. It was probably the best tempura I had ever had, but that could just be because I was so hungry. I think dirt would have tasted like fine cuisine.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± He said, his mouth becoming a hard line. ¡°Yes. I have heard some rumors. But that¡¯s all they are. Rumors. I must admit, I graduated high school some time ago. I don¡¯t really find myself drawn in by that stuff anymore.¡±


    ¡°Rumors ring with truth sometimes,¡± I mumbled.


    ¡°Well let¡¯s see.¡± He began ticking off fingers. ¡°There¡¯s the one about how you attacked a guard and ripped his head clean off his shoulders. That one was pretty interesting, I¡¯m afraid. There¡¯s the one that said you were somehow pregnant with some unknown love child after sleeping with someone¡¯s husband. That one was less interesting.¡± He tapped his chin in thought. ¡°Oh yes, my favorite one. The one where you were secretly plotting to kill everyone and then enslave mankind. Any of those ring true?¡±


    I had gone to take another bite of food, but, as he spoke, had slowly lowered my sushi from my mouth down to the plate and just stared, open mouthed. Finally, I smiled. ¡°Um¡­ the one about the guard. That one is pretty true.¡±


    ¡°Ah yes. I figured. You just had that way about you. The great decapitator.¡±


    I snorted and shook my head, returning to my food. ¡°People suck.¡±


    ¡°They do.¡± He smiled again, gentle this time. He became thoughtful for a moment before he spoke again. ¡°They have always been like this, you know. It¡¯s not your fault.¡±


    I peeked back up at him through my lashes. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Our people,¡± he said, gesturing to the door leading outside. ¡°They are just overly cautious. They always make a fuss when something new or unknown shows up. Granted, your case is a little different, but they are just paranoid and stuck in their ways. They¡¯ll come around. Might take a little longer than usual, but they will.¡±


    I wrung my hands together and then rested them on the table. When I didn¡¯t answer, he reached out and placed one of his hands on top of mine. The gesture was pure, not meant to be anything more than kind. ¡°You always have a friend here.¡± He stood and walked back to the register. I continued to stare into my hands. A tiny flame lit in my heart.

 Chapter Four - Death Is Sent

    I pushed open the door to my house and unloaded my bags in a heap on the kitchen table. I plopped into the chair, sweating and exhausted. I was energized now, but the sun was high in the sky and the walk back was more tedious while lugging all of my groceries and goods.


    ¡°What a weird day.¡± I scratched my head and began rifling through the bags. I pulled out the small bag of grapes and smiled. ¡°What a weird day,¡± I said again.


    I carried the bag with me to the living room. I sprawled out on the couch and grabbed the remote. Popping grapes into my mouth, I quickly clicked through the channels. I zoomed past cartoons, dramas, various movies I¡¯d seen and some I hadn¡¯t, but nothing seemed interesting. When I flitted past the news and caught a word, bold and red, I paused. I clicked back to the station and read the headline: Hospital Break In. I unmuted the tv and listened, semi-disinterestedly.


    ¡°Officials are on the scene of St. Janine¡¯s Medical Center today after an unknown group of thieves broke in and ransacked the hospital¡¯s blood supply. Authorities say that, despite the magnitude and professionalism of the break-in, there were no medical supplies or equipment stolen, and very little damage done on scene. More on this tonight.¡±


    I pursed my lips and stared absently at the wall. A break-in where someone stole blood from a blood bank. That was certainly¡­ interesting. More than likely, it was a coincidence, but the signs definitely pointed to these people. Who knows what they have going on in their head most days? But why would they steal human blood? Everyone knows it¡¯s forbidden. If you drink human blood, the Elders will exile you from the city, or lock you up. We have our own sets of laws here, and what the Elders say goes. Don¡¯t like it? Leave. But it can be hard to survive out there with the humans and maintain your blood intake.


    Huh. I shrugged it off and flipped through channels again. After cycling through them at least three times, I turned the TV off. Leaning back, I reflected on the day.


    After leaving the brewery, I had felt emboldened by the whole ordeal. On my way back through the market, I had stopped at various booths, ignoring any strange or jumpy behavior from the people around me. I bought a new pair of sunglasses to replace the scratched pair in my purse, and let the woman even sell me on a case so I could take better care of them. I picked up an umbrella to shield me from the rough days in the sun after the horrible walk to the market. As I had moved through the booths showing obvious interest and willingness to spend money, more and more vendors attempted to grab my attention, despite their obvious reservations. I was sold various things that I probably didn¡¯t need, a large pink backpack to throw my loose items into, and a sack of the blood oranges I passed on the way in. By the time I had finally made my way to the front end of the market, I looked like a pack mule.


    Money wasn¡¯t a factor, as the person who had stuck me here had amassed a small fortune and gave it to me, or at least part of it. The more I let people sell me things, talk to me, and interact during their day to day, the more relieved everyone seemed to act. And the better I felt. The normalcy of it was so strange to me, but I couldn¡¯t stop. I desperately wanted to believe that things could be normal, and if someone like Danny could treat me like a regular person, surely everyone else could?


    I smiled at the first change I¡¯d seen since I got here. Maybe things could be different. I just had to try.


    ***


    For the next few weeks, I tried to integrate into society as best I could. I shed the arrogance and anger that I had shielded myself with for the last few months and tried to bring down my walls.


    In an attempt to make myself more available to interactions, I sat outside on the grass a lot. I still spent a lot of time on my roof, but I tried to sprinkle in quiet moments out in the front yard, trying to tend to my pitiful garden and make my house look like a witch didn¡¯t live inside. Though I still wasn¡¯t comfortable drinking blood in front of everyone or casually hanging out in public areas, I did my best to smile and wave when people passing by or swimming in the pool met my eyes. At first, they looked at me incredulously, like I was up to something. But over time, as interactions became more consistent and frequent, I think it became clear that I was being genuine, and they would smile back. Some familiar faces would even call out to me. One woman brought me fresh bread and cookies. They were incredible.


    At one point, I saw that mischievous group of boys slinking around down the street. I had been sitting outside in a chair reading a book after the sun had passed below the wall when I spotted them shoving each other and throwing a ball back and forth. When they had gotten a few doors down, I met eyes with the oldest¡ªthe one I had pushed onto the ground. I pointed at him and he froze. Then I looked back down and chuckled. After a moment of frozen silence, I heard them all laughing at him and looked up again in time to see them shove each other around some more. They ran off, giggling and squealing, and I just shook my head, returning to my book.


    About a month after having met Danny, I dared a visit to a museum in the city. We had a nearly exact replica of the Los Angeles Natural History Museum, and I sifted through foggy memories and was able to recall visiting museums with my family as a kid. I loved them. There was something so interesting about trying to imagine what ancient creatures used to look like while staring at the intricacies of their bones. I was walking through a section of the exhibits that had a giant mammoth when I actually ran into Danny. Like really, I ran right into him. I had been staring up, slack-jawed at the hulking form of the mammoth when I collided with him from the side.


    ¡°Oh gosh I¡¯m so sorry I¡ª Danny?¡± I straightened myself out and was surprised to see him smiling smugly at me.


    ¡°I¡¯m beginning to think you missed the part that transitioned us to superior grace,¡± he said, crossing his arms.


    I felt heat travel to my face. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know that I was conducting important research and you have completely thrown me off. I¡¯ll have to start over. What have you done?¡± I crossed my arms and stared at him as if he had ruined my life¡¯s work.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°My apologies then, I¡¯ll let you get back to it.¡±


    He started to turn, chuckling quietly, when I reached out to him. ¡°Wait.¡± He looked back at me. ¡°You like bones? Uh¡­ well I mean, you like to look at dinosaurs?¡±


    ¡°Among other things,¡± he said softly. His eyes briefly traveled down my body.


    I flushed again and tried to gaslight him instead. ¡°Are you following me?¡± I asked playfully.


    He laughed outright. ¡°Despite how big our city is, there is only so much to do and see before you¡¯ve seen it all. But this place,¡± he said gesturing to the models hanging above, ¡°I never get sick of it.¡±


    ¡°Yea it¡¯s pretty cool. This is my first time.¡± I glanced back up at the mammoth, still amazed that anything could be so big.


    ¡°Then come. Allow me to show you around.¡±


    I was startled when he put out an arm to me, but I put my arm in his and allowed him to escort me around the building. How chivalrous.


    ¡°Do you have any favorite places?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Of course. I really like the insect exhibits.¡±


    ¡°Insects! Really?¡± I made a face. I wasn¡¯t scared of bugs by any means, but I didn¡¯t favor them.


    He laughed. ¡°Yes, insects. Have you seen them with our eyes? The colors and patterns are exquisite. They almost don¡¯t seem like they¡¯re real. You can¡¯t appreciate them with human eyes.¡±


    I cleared my throat, not typically comfortable with talking about the fact that I was no longer human, despite being surrounded entirely by like-beings. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen them yet. I thought I might go there last.¡±


    ¡°Well, now we go there first. You have to see them. You¡¯ll understand when you do.¡±


    And so he led me to the insect exhibit. At first, it really just looked like what I expected: a bunch of bugs. But as he led me to the various display cases and encouraged me to lean in and take a good look at them, I saw what he meant. Each bug was like a jewel. The iridescent colors shimmered in ways I¡¯d never seen before, and the patterns of their wings and shells were so intricate, it was shameful I had never been able to see it before. The more I looked, the more it felt like they were works of art. My favorites were the butterflies and some of the shiny, blue or green beetles. I could see all the way to each section of their eyes. I wondered what they saw when they looked at the world. How different it was.


    I barely noticed the glances from other guests. It was only until I saw some familiar faces that I became aware of my arm still hooked with Danny¡¯s. I cleared my throat and removed my arm, pretending to need a good look inside a large case full of flying insects.


    ¡°Remarkable, aren¡¯t they?¡± He finally asked, stepping up beside me and gazing up at an enormous moth.


    ¡°Yes. I would never have known, could never have appreciated them before.¡± I glanced at him sidelong and he was grinning.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you like them. Come.¡±


    He led me in and out of different parts of the museum, showing me things he loved and things he thought I might love. We stayed until we had gone through every exhibit twice. When we made to leave, he asked if he could walk me home. I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder. ¡°I just live over there, you know.¡±


    He put a hand to his mouth and gasped, ¡°But it is a man¡¯s sacred duty to make sure a lady gets home safe and sound.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°Oh yea¡­ It¡¯ll be real dangerous tonight, what with all the creatures of the night on the loose.¡±


    We both laughed and he said, ¡°If you insist.¡± He leaned forward and I flinched, unsure of what he would do. But he simply took my hand and kissed the top of it, old fashioned and everything. My face burned hot and I took notice of the eyes of others around us setting me ablaze. ¡°Until next time, then,¡± he said, smiling. He turned on a heel, and he was gone.


    My walk home was uneventful, but my thoughts were far away. What a typical, stupid girl I was. I was not going to fall for this old-fashioned gentleman act. Nope. No way. But despite my best efforts, I could not wipe the smile from my face the whole way home.


    I¡¯d been sitting in the living room trying to find something on the tv when I leaned back and groaned. ¡°I hate boys.¡± I said aloud. I just wanted to relax in my room and not be plagued by thoughts of bones and bugs and boys. I closed my eyes and tried to think of something, anything else.


    My attempt was cut short when I heard the city alarms going off like dog-whistles. My blood ran cold. A human. There was a human getting close to the walls. It had happened so few times since I came here, but it had never actually come to anything. When would they learn? I closed my eyes again, praying to anyone that would listen that this person would just turn away. Just turn away and nothing will happen to you. Please. Please.


    I snapped my eyes open at the distant sounds of alert, male voices shouting. No, no, no. If they were shouting then it meant concealment was no longer an option. I covered my ears. I didn¡¯t want to hear any noise. Please just kill them and get it over with. Why wouldn¡¯t the humans just learn from their mistakes and stay away?


    A massive crash sounded, followed by a boom that shook the ground. I jumped up from the couch, heart pounding through my chest and body tensed for an attack. I listened for any sounds and frantically looked around for intruders.


    Then the screaming began.


    From outside I could hear blood curdling screams flowing through the corridors of my house as if they¡¯d escaped from my own throat. I ran to the window and peered outside to see a woman running on the sidewalk outside my house, crying and dragging a young girl away who was knocked unconscious. Black rivers flowed from a gash on the unconscious girl¡¯s head. Her arm was bent at an unnatural angle, hanging limply at her side. Everyone was screaming and running away from the direction of my house. Away from the bottom floor room leading to the entrance to my home.


    The room in which I stood now.


    Booming sounds could now be heard just outside. Like the beating of a drum.


    ¡°Eyevoree! Eyevoree, come down!¡± People screamed from all directions.


    ¡°Where is she? On the roof!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see her! She¡¯s inside!¡±


    Me? I wasn¡¯t in any danger. What were they running¡ª


    My thoughts were cut short as a crash sounded from my right. The sound was so loud that I covered my ears and cowered to the floor. Glass and drywall sprayed in all directions. I was about to recover when a colossal blow to my right side sent me flying across the room. I crashed into the bookshelf and cracked the entire structure. The whole room shook as I slammed into the wall. Books clattered on top of me. I was momentarily dazed and in extreme pain. I steadied my gaze and peered out of the mountain of books piled on my entire body to see a monstrous creature standing in my now broken doorway, its mouth hanging open and dripping a pool of blood on my floor, staining a stream of black. Its eyes searched around the room. Then, it fixed its gaze on my eyes hidden under thousands of pages and it charged forward with rows of razor sharp teeth aimed right for my head.

 Chapter Five - Angoroth

    Shocked, but quickly snapping from my daze, my mind clicked in just the right second. The monster charged and I sprang up out of the books and launched myself to the side, narrowly missing its razor sharp teeth. I hit the ground hard. I winced as my hip took the brunt of my fall. I felt debris cut into my hand and hissed at the pain. The creature slammed its humongous head into the wall and cracked the edge of the room. This thing was destroying my house!


    Okay yea, it was also trying to kill me. Priorities.


    It was a giant, unknown creature unlike anything I¡¯d ever seen before. Standing on all fours, it nearly brushed its head on the ceiling of the room that rose at least twelve feet. It wailed and kicked its two massive back legs up, bucking and twisting like a fanatical, confused bull. It frantically shook its head to recover, seeming to momentarily lose track of efforts to pursue me. I took a few panicked steps backwards toward the hole in the wall and winced as I crunched a chunk of glass. It stopped flailing and spun around to set its eyes on me once more. It huffed and flared its nostrils, and charged at me again. This crazy brute was going to level my whole house¡ªand me¡ªif I didn¡¯t do something quick. I started to care a lot more about my house being demolished when it was no longer me doing the demolishing.


    When it charged this time, I was able to ready myself for the line of fire. Unsure if I could escape by outrunning it, I crouched down, waiting for the right moment to spring out of the way. I dashed to the side, surprising it with my supernatural speed. Unable to effectively break, the beast held speed and, with scrambling feet, skidded right into the pool outside my house. People were sent flying as a tidal wave escaped the edges of the poolside and lapped the walls of the surrounding houses and store fronts.


    I stood, shook my head, and looked at the remnants of my stained glass window, but knew there was no time to mourn when clearly my life was in danger. I ran into the kitchen to grab the biggest knife I had and made my way back out to the hole in the wall to peer out. People were recovering and flitting or flying away now, but the beast was also recovering. It had scrambled out of the water and was stalking toward me.


    It had become abundantly clear that I was a direct target in this attack. I couldn¡¯t understand what threat I posed or what I had done to cause this thing to advance on me over and over, but running wasn¡¯t exactly an option. I shimmied outside, careful to steer clear of jagged shards of glass and wall protruding at odd angles. Quickly glancing around, it also became clear that I was completely alone. No one had taken up the fight with me. Off in the distance, I could see bodies splayed across the ground wearing the pale gray uniforms of the guards. If our guards could do nothing to protect us, what could I possibly do?


    Fly away. I can just fly away. But where will I go? This thing would level the whole city chasing me down. Injured people were scattered all over the place. I didn¡¯t want to think about the bodies that seemed to not be moving at all. If I flew away, what would it do to them? Suddenly, the monster stomped the ground and snorted loudly. It bared its teeth, braced itself, and roared.


    I could not describe the smell of its rancid breath. I could not compare it to anything less offensive than the flesh of a thousand rotting corpses. The mere force of the outburst sent me tumbling to the ground. My knife clattered to the floor and I began to wretch. The air was so thick and the smell so strong, for a moment, I was choking on it. My eyes watered and I forgot about anything else for a small moment to scrub my face and keep myself aligned enough not to vomit. I sputtered on my hands and knees, trying to regain myself.


    The thing took advantage of this fit of vulnerability and charged at me once more. It ran to me with unnerving speed and lifted a massive paw with razor sharp talons. It was going to stomp me to death. I rolled out of the way and under its belly before I got to my knees again. I panicked, searching the ground for my knife. I found it feet away, snatched it up, and I stabbed the monster through its thick, coarse fur, right below its ribs. It wailed and bucked again, spinning around in circles like a dog chasing its tail, and nearly crushed me once more. As it whipped around, putrid blood splattered across my body. It smelled of rot and tasted like metal; I repressed a gag again and tried to get up. I made it to my feet, but before I could run, it kicked out and sent me backwards and headlong into the pool. I spun around under water a few times trying to get my head the right way up. I finally emerged at the surface and I could hear a horrible noise: a coarse grinding that sounded like sand being scraped across a washboard with a stone. It was laughing!


    Furious now that I was being mocked, I turned to attack it full force. I then looked at my empty hand and my anger trickled away, replaced with despair. My knife had been embedded in the creature¡¯s torso and I was now completely helpless and unarmed. I saw it take a hesitant step toward me and screech as the knife cut deeper into it. Defenseless now, I searched once more for something to fight with.


    A glimmer brought my attention to the handrail used for getting in and out of the pool. I half waded, half ran to it and grabbed it with both hands. It was long and slender, but still at least 3 inches in diameter. I gripped it tightly where the long length of it began to bend, and pulled with all of my strength. With a heavy grunt, I ripped the top edge from the corner in a swift yank. I could feel dozens of pairs of eyes watching me as the handrail was abused with ease. I kicked at the bottom, splitting it from the base, and was left a long, three-foot spear of metal. I took the whole thing in my hands and looked for the beast.


    Realizing that it was too painful to move with the knife in its belly, it had taken to sitting on its haunches and was attempting to pull it out with its teeth. I took this time to shift to the side until the entire expanse of the pool was between us. Keeping one eye on it, I ground the tip of the metal into the cement, attempting to create a crude point. It was a pretty pathetic excuse for a spear, but I didn¡¯t have a lot of options. The beast stretched its neck into an impossible contortion and grabbed the knife with its front teeth and pulled. With a gruesome squelching sound and a pained grunt, it pulled out the knife and tossed it to the side. It set its eyes on me once again and continued its advance; fearsome growls and pants pushing through its bared teeth.


    Just then, a rock came out of nowhere and hit the beast right in the eye. It shook its head, blinking rapidly, and angrily began looking around for a source. At the same time, we both rested our eyes on a young girl on a balcony with another rock in her hand. She was no older than me, but tiny and frail-looking. She shot to the skies, her face melting into an expression of terror at being spotted. The creature ran and launched toward her, missing her by several feet, its jaws closing over and over with loud snaps. Relieved now that she was safe enough in the air, I slowly made my way toward it while it remained distracted. I stood on the far corner of the pool and it was bumbling around the opposite end, nearly thirty feet away.


    Now I froze, for when it jumped again, I realized just how much she had descended. The second leap had nearly connected with her feet, missing by only inches. She was young. Too young. She would not be able to stay airborne for very long; her wings were too weak, and they would soon carry her down in the monster¡¯s reach. It launched into the air again. This time, she had to pull her legs to her chest. She screamed as sharp nails raked her back. It was like a cat batting at a bird; a very hurt bird who could not escape.


    ¡°Fly to the roof!¡± I screamed, my call echoed by several other coos and reassurances of hidden refugees. Several people appeared at the top of a high rooftop only several yards from her. She whimpered, but tiredly made her way toward it. A defiant battle cry pierced the air and people from all over began throwing miscellaneous things: glass, rocks, shoes. They tried desperately to keep the beast from focusing on her, to no avail. It was going to snatch her right out of the sky!


    By the time it started running, I was already bounding toward her. I dropped my spear and jumped into the air, breathing my wings into existence. I flew to her like a strike of lightning and made my way underneath her, effortlessly pushing her higher into the sky with my back. Her feet touched my shoulders and I pumped my powerful wings upward. I angled the force of my body to shove her toward the roof I had told her to fly to. The air whooshed from her body as she fell lopsided and smashed into the shingles. Just as she started to slide down and I was ready to rescue her once more, several pairs of hands caught hold of her and heaved her up onto the roof.


    I nodded in satisfaction; it was a peculiar emotion to feel toward these people I thought I had despised so much, but I felt a need, a hard, growing determination to protect them.


    I looked down to see where the creature was now. Just as I turned around, I saw it cutting through the air toward me with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow me whole. I panicked and pushed myself to ascend higher into the sky. In a brief moment, I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I had blood. I could feel the fatigue beginning to attack my muscles. Some of its teeth ripped at my leg and my wing beats faltered as I cried out. It fell and crashed to the floor, sending cracks out in all directions.


    Then it spoke.


    ¡°Enough of this!¡± It boomed. Its voice was deep and throaty like it came from the very interior of a mountain.


    Whatever it was, it was male, and he was angry. He flopped onto his stomach and settled into a leaning squat, much like a dog sitting on its hind legs while trying to ignore some sort of pain. He must have injured himself beyond the stab from my knife because, though his features were alien to me, his face looked pained and tired. It was as if he had endured many days of this brutality and his body was ready to collapse under the exhaustion. Pity washed over me for a moment, and then his eyes brought me to reality. He was staring at me, clearly aggravated, but something else took a home in the set of his mouth; he looked amused. We were playing a game he was used to winning and he had come to the conclusion that he might have lost¡ªor simply found a challenge.


    For the first time since he had nearly trampled, drowned, and eaten me, I got a good look at him. Patches of ratty hair stuck out messily all over his body and his huge cat-like face. Small ears poked out from the side of his head. His eyes were large, round, and irritated still; they were red, bloodshot and hazy, but beneath, a grayish-blue. He had a huge body with thick, support beam legs and long claws protruding from all twenty toes; large canine fangs set in his jaw to match. He smiled a sickening smile, revealing his rotting teeth, and I shuddered.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°It seems you are indeed putting up the fight I was told you would, young one. Though, you are the one I come for, no doubt. I can see by your purple flyers and those eyes, you are her. You are Eyevoree.¡± I cringed at the way he said my name. He spoke it with satisfaction and almost desire.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± I couldn¡¯t keep the trembling from my voice. His smile widened, pleasure at my fear filling the lines of his face. Adrenaline had kept the fear from touching me until now. As we spoke, it trickled back into me like a poison.


    ¡°I beg of you, please, show your manners. Come sit. Relieve your wings.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°Right. And how do I know you won¡¯t attack me the first chance you get?¡±


    ¡°Please, dear child, am I to be so conniving?¡± He bared his teeth into a horrid grin, far from the entrancing, trustworthy one he had hoped for. My curiosity was getting the better of me, and he was right. I was exhausted. I needed to get out of the air and rest, even for a moment.


    His voice was so ancient. I wondered what kinds of things a creature like this had seen. I wondered if he had any answers for me. I wanted to know more about him, and I was quicker; of that I was sure. Had he any nerve to bound on me, I could easily take to the skies again, though my fatigue was growing and I could feel the prickle of a headache. Blood trickled down my leg where his teeth had ripped open my flesh. My body was trying to rapidly heal, and it was sapping what little strength I had left to stay airborne or fight. I cursed myself for falling behind on blood intake. Though, I couldn¡¯t have possibly known I¡¯d be needing it this badly. It hadn¡¯t seemed so bad today at the museum. I almost couldn¡¯t believe that was only a few hours ago. That peaceful time seemed so far away now.


    I casually dared a glance down to the pool vicinity. I searched and searched until I saw it. By the edge of the pool, nearest the small building where poolside blood drinks were dispensed regularly, I saw a small glass that had miraculously come out of this encounter unscathed. It rested on a tall bannister and was nearly full. All I needed to do was drop down and make my way to it without making it seem like I desperately needed it. Fear ripped through me at being back on the ground, but if I didn¡¯t rest soon, I¡¯d hit the ground much harder when I fell.


    I fought raggedly against my screaming instincts and slowly descended, ready for anything. I glided down to the ground, slowly and cautiously, landing on my toes, roughly fifteen feet from him. Too far from the drink. I retrieved my arms, narrowing my eyes at him, and began to purposefully pace, wincing as the pain in my leg threatened to buckle me. He merely watched me, mesmerized, his eyes taking on that hazy smoke again. As I had lowered to the floor, I could hear people groaning in disapproval and terror. With their grumbles, they invited an unpleasant tenseness to trickle into the atmosphere. It clouded the air around me and left me on edge. I touched my hand to my chin, acting as if I was thinking, all the while trying with my whole resolve not to look too hard at that drink.


    He switched positions and slumped to the ground, lying on his belly with his large paws sticking out in front, and his back legs relaxed out to the side, resembling a dog more than a cat. ¡°You are a danger to this world, child, you must understand this. You must be extinguished. It is for the greater good and is not but a sad task.¡± I stiffened, but continued my pacing. Each pass took me further from him and closer to the drink. Only twenty feet now. ¡°Yes I know, it may not seem so now, but once you harness your true powers, you will be a great danger to us all. This is what is foretold. You are young and na?ve, and I know you may never come to be his sworn enemy, but we cannot let you live in peace with such a risk hanging so precariously above our heads.¡±


    I stopped for a second, contemplating his words. ¡°We? Him?¡± I squinted and looked around for more intruders.


    ¡°Me, and the master I serve, and his people. You cannot be allowed to continue your life. I am sure you understand the graveness in all of this. But it is business. We have all been told of our duty and what must be done.¡±


    I pursed my lips and continued to pace. I put my hands behind my back in a gesture of calm and superiority. I fought the limp in my leg so hard that sweat began to bead on my forehead. I had never stalked anything as intently as I stalked this glass of dark liquid, my salvation. At this point, it was clear he had no reason to believe I could get away alive. If only he knew how strong I could be when I wasn¡¯t thirsty. If I rushed for that drink, he would know how much I needed it. I may have been faster to ascend upward, but with this leg refusing to heal, I could never outrun him now. I needed to keep up this front. I tilted my head toward him, ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°I am Angoroth. You have not seen my kind. There are not many of us left, and none exist freely. My life was spared, but with the debt of my servitude.¡± He bowed his head and closed his eyes in respect¡ªor maybe sorrow. ¡°I do not wish to serve a master so cruel, but I must for the sake of my life. And you little creatures do make quite a tasty snack!¡± He bellowed, clearly amused with himself and his sick humor, and clearly the only one laughing. More groans erupted again from all around and transformed into whimpers. Involuntarily, I raised a hand to the sound and silence followed. I gawked at my own hand, baffled at the strange and unfamiliar power it had over these people cowering around me.


    He laid his head down on his paws and took me in. He contemplated for a while, and abruptly stood up. I tensed and waited for him to do something. I was so close to the drink. It was barely ten feet away now. ¡°Alright, better get on with this,¡± he said lazily, ¡°I¡¯ve grown tired of this prattle, and I must see to my duties. I am sorry¡­ for the boy was right. You really are so beautiful. What a waste.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± I shouted, and he tilted his head, more animalistic than sentient.


    He smiled, knowingly. He knew I was stalling, he just didn¡¯t know why. Despite his words, he seemed to still want to play my game. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a slave? Why serve this person then? You¡¯re free now aren¡¯t you? I mean you¡¯re loose from wherever you were before. Why don¡¯t you run? Surely there¡¯s somewhere for you to go.¡± I was grasping at straws. So close. So close.


    His face was filled with pain. ¡°My master has my family. I cannot. For if I flee, he will surely slaughter them.¡±


    I carefully, so carefully reached the drink. I reached down, holding my breath to keep my hand from trembling. Picking it up, I tilted it back and forth in my hand, looking at the blood as if it was insignificant. The smell wafted into my nostrils, gripping me with iron claws. It took every ounce of strength not to chug it down and reveal my hand. I nodded my head as if contemplating his words. Ignoring the burning eyes over me and the childish feeling of insecurity over drinking blood, I sipped at the drink. Instantly, the strength shot through my muscles. I felt it, almost tangibly, as it traveled through my veins and burst into my arms, my legs. My head cleared, and I suppressed a hiss as I felt my leg beginning to slowly stitch together. I finished the drink and held back my gasp before setting the glass down. ¡°I see.¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll say this.¡±


    For a fine moment, something bubbled inside of me. It was a peculiar brightness, like I had harnessed the sun and brought it into myself to radiate from my skin. After a moment, I realized that the feeling I was gaining wasn¡¯t strength from the drink. It was courage. I advanced toward him with a purpose. He watched with amusement and curiosity as I moved to stand at the spot where I had dropped my makeshift spear. I stretched up, so that even many feet below where Angoroth towered, I appeared to be looking down upon him.


    ¡°You think that you can come to my home¡­ our home, and terrify us into submission? This is our home. Look at what you¡¯ve done!¡± I gestured to the ruin that used to be our pools and to my house. ¡°You think you can come to take my life and be on your way like we¡¯re nothing more than chattel to you?¡± My voice grew low and serious, ¡°Well¡­ let me tell you¡­ you could not be more wrong.¡±


    A low hiss broke free from the darkness and started a revolution of anger and violence. Hisses and snarls exploded from the mouth of every vampire hidden among rooftops, houses, and shops; every nook and crevice filled its corners with a symphony of fury and revolt. I lifted my arms out to my sides, hands outstretched, palms upward to the sky, and I took a step toward Angoroth. As if my fingertips were connected to their hearts, my advance pulled them from the shadows. They emerged, terrible growls ripping through their chests and bared teeth as they swiped at the air. Their fear had now melted away, replaced with determined ferocity. Some wielded blades and some had grabbed the nearest things they could find; the young girl on the rooftop armed herself with rocks again. I reached down and picked up my spear.


    Angoroth had nothing; he would take no one tonight. He scrambled backwards, terror touching the outskirts of his face, not having realized before just how many of us had gathered here. Or maybe he had just never expected us to stand up to a beast like him. He looked all around at the numbers now pressing forward onto him, and he continued to take calculated steps backward. During the skirmish, many of the gate guards had recovered, listening to our conversation with everyone else, and now advanced on Angoroth¡¯s flanks.


    When he had first breached the great wall of our city, he had taken us by surprise, and twilight had been upon us. He had scared us in the dark and bullied fear into the complacent, confused, and shaken. It was he who was cornered now, and he knew it.


    ¡°This is not over, violet girl.¡± He looked around frantically, ¡°You must not be discovered, for the worst is yet to come, and he needs you out of the way before he can begin. I will inform the master of your death¡­ but you must remain unseen!¡±


    I took off my torn, bloody jacket and threw it to his feet. The arms of it had been nearly obliterated when I popped my wings without taking it off. It certainly looked like the jacket of someone who had been attacked. ¡°Take that to him. You can say you couldn¡¯t control yourself and ate me instead.¡± I sneered.


    Angoroth let out a sharp sigh, ¡°I do not think this will work.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like you have a choice,¡± I said, jabbing my spear toward him.


    His eyes darted around. So used to being the biggest, scariest creature. He must have been so used to everyone cowering before him. He never had to stop and think about the fact that he was just flesh and bone like the rest of us.


    ¡°This is not over,¡± he repeated. He leaned down and scooped up the jacket in his black hole of a mouth. A look of pain and torture resurfaced through his grisly facade as his wide eyes took one last glance at the army of vampires nearly surrounding him now. He turned around and jogged toward the twenty foot high gate that opened to the woods on the North side of the city. He then began to sprint full force at the door and the guards scrambled backwards out of the way, some of them slashing at the air as he passed. For a moment, he looked as though he may crash right through the gate. At the last glimpse of a second, he sprang up and over, landing on the other side with a thud that shook the earth beneath our feet.


    We all froze, silent as death, and listened to the rhythm of his thundering gallop fade into the distance.

 Chapter Six - A Friend

    No one knew how to react.


    We all waited¡­ and waited some more. What seemed like hours passed as dozens of eyes stared at the spot where Angoroth had just leapt over the wall. I think everyone half expected an army to come barreling back through for another attack, but there was nothing. Just silence. Not a breath was released and all bones were frozen.


    Then one person up in the front broke the quiet.


    A small man with a pointy nose and large mud brown eyes started to laugh. He bellowed and looked around, clapping the man nearest him on the back as he doubled over. One by one, people started to burst into heartfelt laughter and tears, cheering and hugging. After a while I felt a curious lightness in my chest and I found myself laughing, as well. At first, I received several handshakes and light pats on the back. Then a woman ran to me, tears streaming down her face, and pulled me into a tight embrace. People began to crowd around me, hugging, touching my shoulders, grabbing my hands and crying into them. I was so stunned that I just stood there and let it all wash over me.


    This whole ordeal was something I had begged for for so long. I had yearned for something remarkable to happen so that I might get off of my house and make something of myself. It had, indeed, happened, and it had changed so much already in that small amount of time that we battled with a beast. It had been so absurd and abrupt that we all found ourselves contorted with laughter, just happy to be alive.


    That day was no easy task. Surprisingly, there were no deaths. Not even the unconscious girl I had seen with violent wounds. It seemed that Angoroth had only one death to deal this night, and the collateral damage was mostly to property. Various people were poolside, sipping drinks to heal injuries. Some were still unconscious but stable. Others had been taken to the hospital to reset broken bones and check for more serious injuries. The guards in particular took a beating, but some familiar faces seemed to already be returning to the wall. We were, of course, fairly hardy.


    Despite the alarms going off for so long, many of the residents throughout the other portions of the city had not understood the severity of what had been going on at the North wall. Some had even gone about their day and night, blissfully unaware of the battle for life and death happening on the other side of our small world. When the guards had first spotted Angoroth speeding toward the city, the human alarms were the only thing they thought to set off, as we didn¡¯t exactly have an alarm for giant, unknown creatures trying to eat us. Reinforcements had been on the way, but the fight happened so fast and this creature so foreign that no one really knew what to do.


    The Elders were informed and emissaries had come to gather details, perform interviews, and report back. I thought it was pretty annoying that the Elders didn¡¯t come themselves, but I supposed they were too ancient to not have people to delegate for that. My interview was the most detailed, of course. They asked me questions about if I knew this creature, why he came for me, and how I was able to hold my own when the guards couldn¡¯t. I had no answers other than I didn¡¯t know anything and that I just did what I could, what came naturally to me. They didn¡¯t seem pleased with my useless information, but took down notes regardless. They nodded and assured me that workers would be coming to repair the damage to my home as soon as possible. I mumbled my thanks and they were on their way.


    We had an assortment of chaos to clean up around the area. I personally only had my house, for there were so many people who took this as a remodeling opportunity. You had no need for a clean up crew when there were mobs of people that were happy to do it themselves. Anything to fight the boredom of the same old crap. We lived here, day in and day out, so the interior was starting to get pretty stale. I¡¯m sure many had been itching to change the looks of things around the city and this was a well-deserved excuse for everyone to start some new projects. Good. I really didn¡¯t want to help anyway. I chuckled at myself, and my remaining inner arrogance.


    I ducked inside the gaping hole that served as a second entrance to my house and pathetically grabbed a broom and dustpan from a small crevice next to the fridge in the kitchen. The cleaning began.


    I started with the music room. Thank God for hardwood floors; I could only imagine trying to resolve a mess like this with carpets in the way. I would probably end up tearing the whole spread from the floor in a rage, bare hands and all, because glass and splinters layered the floor in a thin blanket. My books were scattered everywhere and the bookshelf was in shambles. The ceiling had holes in it and I could nearly see through to the next floor. Even my closet door had opened slightly and glass was sprinkled in with my clothes. Awesome. Laundry.


    I was incredibly relieved to find that my stereo and music library was all but untouched. Some of the music had fallen off the shelf to the floor so I walked over and tried them out to test their sound. Surprisingly, only one wouldn¡¯t play: an older Frank Sinatra CD. I gritted my teeth at the loss and promised myself I would properly mourn it later. I finally settled with some gentle rock music.


    People were bustling around outside in the early morning light and the noise of chatter cheered me up some. It was strange. The gentleness of it was unusually calming on such a dark day. I closed my eyes and held still for a moment, just listening to all of the laughter and bickering over which color drapes to put up and what type of plants to put around the pool. It was almost soothing to try to enjoy the feeling of having people around that were starting to understand me, maybe even like me, even if it was just a little bit.


    I heard a crunch and my head snapped up at the approaching invader. A girl stood near the open doorway of the destroyed room¡ªshe actually came through the real door¡ªand looked down at the crushed shard of glass under her heel, and then up to me with wide, horrified eyes. It was the girl who had thrown the rock, the one who I had saved from nearly being plucked right out of the sky like an injured bird.


    ¡°Sorry¡­¡± She mumbled, as she fiddled with a thin, long braid. It ran from wildness at the back of her hair and all the way down her chest, ending just below her breast but above her belly button. ¡°I just wanted to see if you needed help¡­¡± She bit her lip and wouldn¡¯t keep my eyes.


    ¡°Oh¡­ well, sure. Thanks.¡± I wasn¡¯t used to this treatment. I was used to girls being envious and horrible to me, and the men being buffoons; though the men had yet to change my standing on them. Well okay, Danny wasn¡¯t too bad I guess. This whole situation was strange and it was making me uncomfortable. But I shrugged it off and tried to be¡­ hospitable.


    For a moment, she looked as though she hadn¡¯t expected to get this far, or like she had expected me to cast her away. In truth, before these last few weeks, I probably would have. I would never have let another person in the city into my home, no matter how timid or seemingly gentle. However, after everything that had just happened and how things had started to change, I felt more connected to these people.


    ¡°I¡¯ll just¡­¡± She scanned for something and seemed panic-stricken again when she didn¡¯t find what she had been looking for.


    ¡°In the kitchen¡­ Next to the fridge.¡± I said cautiously.


    She scampered out of the room and back again, a broom in hand. ¡°I¡¯ll just¡­¡± She took the broom and slowly started sweeping up glass and debris, flinching and apologizing whenever a large piece scraped the floor. After a lot of strained silence and mumbling, she finally spoke again. ¡°So¡­ Eyevoree, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I said tentatively, not looking up from my cleaning.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard all about you, and I¡¯ve seen you around, but I always thought you didn¡¯t like to talk to anyone¡­ I always saw you by yourself and you never really came down from your roof and I was going to talk to you. I almost did one time, I was nearly there, but I thought you might¡­¡± She looked down again and released a little puff of air, ¡°Sorry. I ramble sometimes...¡±


    I had my back turned to her, so I didn¡¯t try to hide the hint of a smile that played along my lips. Slowly turning and pretending to sweep some glass into a pile, I peeked at her. She was fixated on the task she was performing. Looking at her closer now, I could see that she might be a little older than me. Not by too much, maybe a year or two; who knows how old she was in vampire years. I was only nineteen or twenty from what I could remember so she was early twenties at most. Her wavy hair was a sandy brown with glimmers of blonde and red, and it was savage. It was mid length, just below the shoulders and flew in all directions, giving her the look of a wildcat. That one, lone braid ran down her front. It seemed to grow longer than her loose hair, as if she never trimmed it with the rest. I tried not to stare and stole glances at her as she tiptoed around the mess. Finally, I turned away and continued sweeping, too shocked to comprehend what was happening here and now. A girl my age¡­ just here with me, and being nice.


    ¡°I see I¡¯m sort of at a disadvantage,¡± I said. She cocked her head, puzzled. ¡°I don¡¯t know your name, I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Well, you wouldn¡¯t. How could you? My name is Laycee,¡± She reached out her hand for mine, ¡°Pleased to meet y¡ª¡±


    She tripped then, on what I don¡¯t know, and would have face planted into a pile of broken glass had I not already been reaching out. I caught her outstretched hand and heaved her to her feet.


    ¡°Oh gosh¡­ I¡¯m so sorry. I¡¯m so clumsy. I¡¯m really sorry,¡± she fondled her braid again and returned to silently chewing her lip.


    This girl was so silly, standing here feeling guilty for almost tripping into a mess in my house caused by a massive creature that was trying to kill me. She was so childlike and petite, her head only rising to my shoulder and her tiny, hourglass body turned inward all the way down to her pigeon toes.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    I couldn¡¯t help it. I bursted into laughter.


    She stared with incredulous, green eyes and gaped at me doubling over, hands on my knees. ¡°What is so funny?¡± She asked with a squeak. Her mouth hung wide and it only brought tears to my eyes. She started to nervously laugh too, but she was uncertain. I presumed she was trying to decide if I was cruel or just insane. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re laughing at me!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not!¡± I choked into my hands. I dropped the broom and tried to muffle my laughter, but it seeped through my fingers.


    ¡°You are! What¡¯s so funny?¡± She was half laughing, half angry and embarrassed.


    ¡°This is all just so much,¡± I said between gasps, ¡°The house, the fight, you here in my house.¡± Her smile began to fade and she was starting to look at me like I had absolutely lost my mind. I might have. ¡°You are just here after everything that happened, and you are apologizing for tripping over¡­ I don¡¯t know, your own feet?¡± I gestured to her legs and lost it again.


    I didn¡¯t know what was wrong with me. I continued to laugh and she continued to eye me in wonderment, all the while taking on a few giggles of her own as her anger lessened and she saw the humor in what I found so amusing. I couldn¡¯t explain why it was so funny to me, but there was something so innocent about all of it that shone like a light through everything that had happened this night.


    Most of the things she had uttered so far had been no more than a whisper, but now as she scolded me, I finally heard her. Her voice was a small chirp, like a tiny bird. Her laugh trilled like a series of tinkling bells. She was marvelous, this small girl, and she made my life just a bit less miserable with her chimes.


    In this small moment of laughter that we shared, our lives had already intertwined.


    * * *


    Three weeks had passed since Angoroth¡¯s break in and our episode in my music room, and already we were inseparable. Something about her had caught me off guard and I couldn¡¯t put my finger on it. Was it the innocence of her shy stature? My rescue from Angoroth¡¯s jaws? The fact that she had approached me at all? She had become my best friend, something I never thought would happen in a million years, or however long we vampires live. Though I enjoyed the nervous friendship I still shared with Danny, this was different. I needed a girl in my life. I hadn¡¯t known just how badly I needed a girl in my life. I hadn¡¯t remembered what it felt like and meant to have someone who understood you on a level that couldn¡¯t be replicated by a boy or a partner. It sounded strange, but it just meant more to know that you had another girl in your corner, especially when I had struggled so much with insecurity in this life.


    That day, I had offered to show her around my house and her curiosity pulled her through the vastness of my mansion. I walked her through all the ballrooms, dens, and dining areas, and even stumbled upon some hidden rooms I didn¡¯t know about either¡ªone of which had a wide open space that I considered putting a spa in the place of¡ªand we explored together. Though I had seen them before, the walls and rooms seemed to extend on and on without ever wanting to stop. Finally, we had hit the end and we ventured upstairs, which was just as large, only it held smaller rooms and bedrooms.


    She had stared, eyes bugging at the size and beauty, and she only asked a few questions here and there, keeping silent as if to truly suck in the view without distraction. This had been how I reacted when I first took a self-tour of the house I had awoken in.


    Now that she had grown accustomed to my house and me, she was far more open. She was spunky and sharp. She was sassy and made jokes and quips in my direction. She especially liked to pick at my distaste for blood. She¡¯d roll around on me, gargling, with a drink in her hand, and she¡¯d laugh her tinkling bells until I succumbed to laughter myself.


    ¡°Eyevoree!¡± I heard her sing from somewhere on the bottom floor, and then a crash and a great deal of swearing.


    I had taken to ¡°Laycee proofing¡± my house, for she had not been unrealistic when she said she was clumsy. She ran into anything that obstructed her path, and some things that weren¡¯t even in her path. Whether it was big, small, in plain sight, hidden. Whether it was pitch black or bright as day. No matter what it was, she managed to hit something with her mini shins or trip up with her toddler feet. I had to keep glass things tucked into the corners of the house and pick up anything that had taken home upon the floor. I had also found an excuse to put effort into removing all of the itchy, hideous rugs that were in a lot of my rooms. No matter how flat it was, she managed to catch her toe on a corner and trip, heels over head, onto the ground.


    ¡°Oh Eyevoree, there you are,¡± she emerged from around the corner holding a blood drink in each hand, drops dribbling down the sides of each cup and over her hands.


    I scrunched my nose at her, ¡°Laycee, please. Must you come here just to make me sick? And make a mess. You need a sippy cup.¡± I grabbed the cloth that I kept near, specifically for her messes, and I threw it at her. I landed right on top of her head and she glared, making me giggle.


    ¡°Oh, stop being so dramatic. Hey, you are lucky you have a friend like me, or you¡¯d be dead in a week. They¡¯re good for you, like vegetables.. Now drink.¡± She shoved the cup into my face and pursed her lips to slurp at hers, lowering the level. I wrinkled my nose again and gave her a sour look, but took the cup from her. She began cleaning up and chortled at my glower.


    ¡°You know, putting a bendy-straw and a little umbrella in it does not make it, in any way, more appealing,¡± I said grimly, pointing to her measly attempt at humor.


    She was sitting on the end of the bed now with her legs crossed and one eyebrow raised, more than half of her drink gone. ¡°That is so gross! How do you do that? It¡¯s so¡­hnnng...mmmmpf.¡± I pretended to heave and throw up behind my bed.


    ¡°It¡¯s really not. It was easy to get used to, considering it tastes so good, and you can¡¯t even say it doesn¡¯t. And it makes you feel awesome, like you can take on a monster. You remember right?¡± She winked, referencing when I drank the blood the night Angoroth came. I rolled my eyes. ¡°Just don¡¯t think about where it comes from and it won¡¯t bother you. It¡¯s like drinking a Bloody Mary¡­ only as traditional as it gets. See? Mmm¡­¡± She sipped again at her blood and smacked her lips with a goofy grin on her face and her eyes crossed.


    ¡°Wow. You¡¯re sick,¡± I said, looking at her like I was horrified. She giggled and then, with a slightly more serious face, pointed to my drink like a mother scolding her child and telling them to eat their greens. I sniffed the edge of the cup and pretend-vomited again, even though it really did smell good.


    ¡°Yea okay, whatever,¡± she said, shaking her head. She walked over to the window. I started to sip at the straw and then was taken in completely, closing my eyes, overwhelmed by the desire, as usual.


    It was easier to drink with Laycee. She made me feel less ghoulish when she was near. When Laycee drank with me, it didn¡¯t feel bad at all. She was so sweet and charming that it made my disdain feel less overbearing. Balanced me out. And it calmed my nerves to the sweet smelling liquid. It was like she made me feel almost normal, like this was right, and not doing it was wrong. I started to sip, and then gulp, and eventually I was slurping the remains at the bottom so loud that she turned around to look at me, laughter playing at the corners of her mouth.


    ¡°I thought it was gross?¡± Her lips twitched.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to take this to your face if you don¡¯t shut up, Laycee cat.¡± She rolled her eyes and opened the window, leaning out of the screen-less frame, her chin resting on her hands.


    I remembered then when she first asked me why I started calling her Laycee cat. It had been a few days after we met and she had started to find enjoyment in leaning out the windows. None of my windows had screens so she would fling them open and balance over the edge, the wind rippling through her wild hair.


    ¡°Why do you call me that? Laycee cat, I mean,¡± she had asked that day when I made a remark about how she was going to faceplant into my new garden. She had been nearly falling out of the highest window of the house, the highest peak that I took for my sanctuary.


    ¡°Well look at you,¡± I gestured up and down her body, ¡°you¡¯re sleek and slender, and you have bright green eyes that remind me of a bobcat. And your hair; it is so wild that it seems to have a mind of its own.¡±


    She patiently walked to the mirror to look at herself, trying to understand what I saw. She began to fiddle with her braid.


    This was her way. Whenever she was thinking, or shy, or just dozing off, she played with the long braid that always ran down the left half of her chest. It grew fast. Sometimes she would snip at the ends to keep them from splitting due to the constant fondling, but it always hung long, and she constantly kept it at the length of her navel.


    ¡°Plus, you seem to enjoy leaning so dangerously out of my windows. I know that I wouldn¡¯t hit the ground if I fell, but your wings are not as quick as mine,¡± I put my hand to my chest in mock superiority. ¡°You are fearless, but I don¡¯t quite know if you¡¯ll land on your feet.¡±.


    She leaned way out over the edge of the frame and peered down at the ground below her, judging the distance, and seemed to start doing math in her head. Then scoffed, ¡°Pfft¡­ I could make it¡­¡± She mumbled.


    She turned back and walked over to the couch I was sitting on, and plopped down. She faced me, her head on the back of the couch, staring at me.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, my brow furrowed.


    She bluntly asked, ¡°What do you think Angoroth wanted?¡±


    I was no longer smiling. That was the first time she had brought up Angoroth since he had come. I didn¡¯t like thinking about him. I wasn¡¯t afraid, I just could never understand¡­ Why me? It made my head swim trying to understand what he meant when he spoke of my destiny.


    She stared off into space, ¡°I mean I know he wanted to take you or kill you, and I mean he said that he needed you to die, but that guy he worked for was bad. He really didn¡¯t seem like he wanted to do all that stuff. Well he said he worked for someone but I don¡¯t know if he was telling the truth, about having Angoroth¡¯s people and family held prisoner, but what¡ª¡±


    ¡°Laycee¡­¡± I cut off her mindless rant.


    ¡°Sorry. Why do you think he said you needed to die? I honestly think about that every day. I have every day since it happened, since he was here.¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t know,¡± I stared into space. I truly didn¡¯t know. ¡°I think about it, too. I can¡¯t get his words out of my head.¡±


    Once you harness your true powers, you will be a great danger to us all. This is what is foretold.


    I wish I knew what he was trying to tell me. My true powers? I had always thought that I was unique enough. Was there really more to me that I had yet to understand?


    Was I more of a threat to this world than I thought?

 Chapter Seven - Lunar Laughter

    My dreams crawled with unfathomable nightmares. I¡¯d often had nightmares since I was turned, but most of the time, I jolted awake before the worst of it. Tonight, I couldn¡¯t wake from this.


    Sometimes the man who made me visited me in my dreams. I could never know if he walked through my dreams on purpose, or these were memories trying to escape the darkest reaches of my past.


    People will try to come for you, Eyevoree. They will try to take you away from us. They do not understand you, and they never will. We¡¯re different. You are like us, destined for greatness and to return our history to its former glory. He will try to strike you down and you must fight. He must be stopped. Only you can stop him.


    Was this what he warned me of? Who is he? The master that Angoroth said he served¡­ I wanted to know. I couldn¡¯t rest knowing how much he wanted me, needed me, wanted to end me. But why?


    The voice of the invisible man almost seemed to answer my questions.


    Your knowledge will come in time. It is almost upon you. Patience, child. You will see soon enough what you¡¯re capable of and you will fight.


    How do you know what to do when life hands you this? Do this, be that. All I have been told is what to do, and who to be. Why me? I don¡¯t understand why this has to be my path. I don¡¯t want this. I never asked for this curse.


    You were chosen for a reason. It is not a curse; it is a glorious gift. Those who find their bonded pair cannot bear to resist, and your life was preserved in the process. It is destiny. You will see, child. You will lead us to greatness, our whole race. Do not be afraid, we are with you.


    ***


    I was walking through a field that stretched on for so many miles. I had never seen this place before. As I walked, my eyesight became clearer and adjusted to the twilight glimmer. There were beautiful flowers growing all around me. I felt a sudden rush of happiness; I couldn¡¯t understand why, but I knew I felt right here. A warm, radiant glow bubbled up inside me, and I was happy to be in this strange place. I sat down and smelled the world around me.


    A large red rose started to glow by my hand, just then. It shimmered with a radiant, blue-yellow light. I reached out to touch it and I gasped. My hand was pink, and fleshy, instead of a marble white, cold and hard. I felt wisps of my hair lick my face. It was coarse and natural. I never felt natural, I never felt normal.


    The light from the flower began to move. It came from the center of the rose and flew in front of me in the shape of an orb. Dozens then hundreds of lights emerged from the flowers and illuminated a path in front of me. In a daze, I lifted my hand to touch one; it jumped, startled, and flitted away, and another took its place. I began to follow them, too awestruck to comprehend what was happening, or where I was going. They just led me, pulled me across the field, and toward the moon on the horizon. I felt a strange pull at my navel, tugging me on.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    We pressed on for what seemed like hours, and the orbs continued to dance in front of my eyes and whirl around me in a ballet of illumination. The wind was warm on my face, and the night felt calm and peaceful, the smell of the flowers still enveloping me in their aromas. But my legs were becoming weak from the walk, and this was new to me. I never tired. The burning in my legs seemed to drag me down to the ground, and I wanted to rest. A voice seemed to whisper inside my head, find him. My fatigue didn¡¯t matter, only the joyous faeries moving me along to show their secret at the end of the path of lights.


    The night grew colder and I wrapped my arms around myself. My body began to shake and convulse in the sharp, chilling breeze. This wasn¡¯t right. The once warm air was now frigid and painful. The flowers around me began to wilt and die. The faeries almost seemed to dim as we pressed on. A feeling of fear flooded through me as the angry moon grew in front of us and mountains rose from the ground on either side of the road with every step. Soon, they were towering over us and I felt them scowl down as we took our journey into the gaping maw they formed at the base of their necks. They came together into one large hill and the moon was lost behind their faces.


    I was glad to be rid of that murderous globe, but now the darkness settled in and finally, I felt terrified. I could hear them laughing as we crawled up their jaws, up a dirt path that led to the top of their blackening slope. The little orbs felt no fear and kept on while I hesitated, pulling courage from within myself to follow them.


    The lights continued to carry me, up, up, until I felt as though my lungs would burst from the ascent and terror. The darkness crept around my ankles and tried to trip me up and drag me away. The stars were all but lost behind furious clouds that seemed to swirl in from nowhere and the night grew into an impossible black. Sweat was pouring down my back. My arms and legs turned into mud and ran down the hill, fleeing from this desolate place. Still, up I climbed.


    When the panic ripping at the back of my brain was almost too much to bear, the faeries carried me over the top of the mountain. I looked around, and all I could see was blackness. I peered back over the edge, and a sheer drop fell down into fog. There was no more road, no turning back. The floor was lost in the sea of colorless night; the flowers, no more than gray waves of nothingness. And the moon¡­ it peeked over the edge where I had only just taken refuge, and I was instantly afraid again. With its light, I scoured every crack of the mountain¡¯s head. There was nothing but dirt and barren waste.


    Then something caught my eye as I scanned the vastness of the peak¡ªa shadow that didn¡¯t seem right hidden against the blackness of the mountain. It seemed unusually out of place. A dimness too dark to be natural. I walked toward it, cautious, but so curious. The lights continued to watch, but they slung back and danced behind me as I ventured across the mountaintop to the unknown silhouette. As I approached, its figure remained blurred, blended with the quiet pitch of the rock face it stood before.


    Then it was upon me.


    The gloomy figure lunged toward me and just before I could run, it sent me tumbling to the ground. A cloak-covered body pinned me to a rock and I gasped for air as the weight of it crushed the life out of my lungs. Cold, bony hands ran up my body to the sides of my face in a painful caress. They wrapped around my neck, gently and then angrily. I could feel the figure¡¯s horrible breath sweep across my face and even through the black of its hood, I could see it smiling. I tried to scream, but my voice was nothing more than a passing breeze. I struggled to get up, or will my wings to save me, but my body failed its calls; it felt hollow, like I had no power left to save my own life. I felt my glow escaping me as the beautiful lights that had led me to my doom slowly began to evaporate into the air. I was weak and I could do nothing to save myself.


    And that moon! That horrible moon! Laughing at me! It hung overhead now and grinned as it watched the life being choked out of my helpless frame. I stared at it, and hated it with every forced gasp left inside of me. As I shot my intense hatred toward that awful moon, it morphed to a deep, powerful crimson, and seemed to almost melt from the sky.


    In an instant, the figure lowered its mouth to my neck and bit down. I cried out as sharp fangs pierced my flesh. It drank from me with cold, hard lips, and I lay powerless as the life was drained from me. With little effort, it lifted me into the air by my neck and held me high above its sunken frame. With one last horrid smile, it reared its arm back, my helpless body still dangling from its cold fingers, and threw me over the edge of the mountain.


    I fell, down, down¡­ back to where I had first felt fear, back to where I should have turned around and ran--ran away from the mountain and the lights and that terrible moon. My body twisted in the air as the wind played with my lifeless limbs; and still that wretched face, contorted with laughter, gleamed on. I spun toward the moon just as it transformed into a velvet shade of purple.

 Chapter Eight - Baby Steps

    I shot up, gasping for air. Waking up in a boiling puddle of my own body stew wasn¡¯t exactly my idea of a good morning. My watering, bloodshot eyes burned with tears and ached from being clamped shut. Everything around me was a blur and it took me quite a while before I registered what had happened, and what was happening now.


    It was just past five in the morning, definitely not my favorite "wake up" time, even in the half-afterlife, considering there wasn¡¯t much to do. My hair was hot and wet and sticking to my equally overheated body. The back of my neck was burning up and I just wanted to crawl out of my skin.


    Once I moved, I realized I was clenching something in my still-locked grip. I pried my fingers off an ornate, bronze key attached to a makeshift necklace fashioned from a tightly knit rope braid. I had never seen it before, nor did I remember falling asleep with it. The rope reminded me of the tail that ran down from Laycee¡¯s head. It looked old and worn. I inspected it for a while and decided I was too exhausted for speculation and should wait until Laycee woke up to think anything about it. I tucked it into my nightstand drawer and sat up in bed.


    Looking over at her, I chuckled. She was cuddled up in a little mass of hair and blankets on the bed across from mine. I finally figured she must have given me something to occupy my hands in my sleep so I didn¡¯t end up clawing at myself¡ªone of the great joys of night terrors. I wondered where she got it¡­ Maybe it was hers, though I¡¯d never seen her wear it; and why not a pillow or stuffed animal? Oh well. The night was the least of my problems. My body was so weak from a frantic sleep that when I stood up to walk around, my legs ached and I nearly collapsed. No more late night scary movies for me.


    Peeling off the sticky clothes I was wearing was my first priority. Soaked through with sweat, I stripped down to my bare skin and wrapped myself in a silky robe that I usually hung on the wall by my door. Although sometimes you¡¯d find it strewn about, or find Laycee folding it with a look of disapproval on her face¡ªmost likely after having tripped over it first.


    I had been so tense in my sleep that I had to stretch out my limbs before I could wander downstairs to find something to do or eat. Five o¡¯clock snack? Guess so. I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Walking past the room where Angoroth had once stood after plowing through my wall like an angry bulldozer, I glanced at the patchwork and took a moment to think over the work Laycee and I had put into remodeling that part of the wall. The emissary had originally insisted that someone would come to fix the damage. I let them replace the fence, but we wanted to do the wall ourselves. They laid out most of the rough framework, but Laycee and I wanted to DIY the drywall and paint. It was terrible.


    I ran my hand along the wall and fingered its rough edges. I supposed it wasn¡¯t that bad. We weren¡¯t exactly handywomen, though. It was amateur work, but still had great emotion to it. And the irregular look of the surface gave the house character. It made me feel like my house was like us now, like me, trying to be normal but just a bit different, even down to its appearance. I felt a little closer to my house now that I built part of it. Maybe I might just take care of it a little better. It brought me joy to know that a little part of us was part of my home now.


    The time we had spent fixing the destruction had allowed my heart to open up to Laycee a lot more than I permitted during our first few times just casually hanging out. I guess I could say that we "bonded" during our hard labor, outside of our previous trauma bonding. It had given me a great deal of respect for her after seeing how easy it was for her to open up to people, especially me, and do something selfless¡ªlike helping me fix my tattered home. And it gave me hope that I would be able to pass this selflessness through myself.


    I wished¡­ God did I wish I could be as carefree as her. She could walk up to anyone, even someone she didn¡¯t know, and spark up a conversation with them, get them laughing and smiling. I just sank into the shadows and waited for her to finish while they fell in love with her. Most people who met her fell in love with her. It was so strange walking with her outside of my sanctuary, especially through the busy parts of the city when we made our way to her house. Despite the time I tried to spend mingling and even after essentially saving their lives, people were still wary of me. Sometimes I felt like they may never understand.


    But Laycee¡­ Laycee understood.


    One of the times she had dragged me through the market, it occurred to me that we could go to the brewery together. I certainly preferred having her around when I had to drink blood, so surely buying it would be the same, right?


    An idea crossed my mind and I grinned.


    "Do you want to meet someone?"


    She scrunched her face, "I meet a lot of people."


    I laughed. "Well this is someone I know and maybe you don¡¯t know for once."


    "Mysterious¡­" she said quietly. "Who is this mystery person?"


    "Oh, just my best friend," I said wryly. She shoved me and I cackled. "Just someone I met a while back. Come on, he¡¯s nice."


    "Ohhh¡­ He¡¯s nice, is he?" She wiggled her eyebrows and I smacked her arm.


    "Come on. You better not make it weird."


    "I never make it weird," she said with her chin high. Right on queue, her toe caught the concrete and I grabbed her arm to keep her from tripping right into a woman carrying a box of eggs.


    "Right. Never."


    I led her to the brewery and opened the door. Scanning the room and its patrons, my eyes fell on Danny serving a table. I raised my hand to greet him and Laycee¡¯s voice peeled from next to me.


    "Hi Danny!" Several patrons stopped their chatter to glance at the interruption.


    Of course she knew him. I didn¡¯t know what I expected. I threw my arms up.


    "Okay, who is this mystery man?" She asked. She turned her head from side to side cartoonishly.


    "Never mind¡­" I said, rolling my eyes. "Guess you already know Danny.."


    "Oh!" She squeaked. "Yes, we met recently. He just started working here at the brewery not too long ago." She leaned in to put her lips to my ear. "And thank God for that, huh?" She jabbed me a few times with her elbow and wiggled her eyebrows again.


    I pawed at her desperately. "Oh my God, stop. Do not let him see you acting like¡ª"


    "Hello ladies." Danny¡¯s silky voice came from my right and I turned to find him already standing beside me. I wanted to turn and run home. "Table for two?"


    Laycee and I answered at the exact same time.


    "No!" I pleaded.


    "Yes!" She squealed.


    I glowered at her and Danny looked between us, a smile curving lips.


    "What Laycee means to say is that we have a busy day ahead of us. Right Laycee?" I said through gritted teeth.


    She just grinned. "Nope!"


    I was going to gut her when we got home.


    Smiling broadly, he raised his eyebrows and gestured with a hand to an empty booth that could seat four, a question in his eyes. Laycee yanked my arm toward the table and I groaned.


    We sat down and ordered some blood beers ¨¤ la Danny; Laycee got a sandwich and I got my typical, tuna tempura. When Danny brought us our food, he actually sat down in the spot next to me. His knee briefly brushed my thigh as he shifted into his chair and I thought I would die right then and there.


    "So when did you two meet?" He asked. "Eyevoree doesn¡¯t seem like the type to go hunt down new girlfriends at the mall."


    I glared at him, then spoke quietly. "We met the night¡­ at the North gate."


    His smile vanished. "I should have been there that night. I should have walked you home. The gesture was originally polite, but if I had been there¡­" He frowned. "Maybe it might have been different." He reached over to take my hand with both of his. "I¡¯m sorry."


    I was so stunned, it took me a minute to respond. We had run into each other here at the brewery only once since that night and my feelings were still the same. "Like I told you before, it wasn¡¯t your fault." He opened his mouth to respond, but I cut him off. "Please. Because you were supposed to know that some giant, unknown creature would jump over the walls and try to kill me? Don¡¯t be ridiculous."


    My voice was too loud. I noticed a few heads swivel toward us. All the while, Laycee was just staring at us with her eyebrows so high I thought they would fly off her head. She looked back and forth between both of our faces and our hands. I cleared my throat and pulled my hand away, using it to tuck a bit of hair behind my ear. "Anyway¡­ so you know Laycee. She¡¯s been forcing me to brave the sunlight, and the dark, evil world outside my house. You know how much I hate that."


    His smile returned, but it no longer reached his eyes. He graciously accepted my change in subject. "Good. It¡¯s good for you. And maybe now I¡¯ll see you more often." He winked before standing and striking a bow. "Let me know if you need anything else."


    I kicked Laycee under the table before she even said a word.


    I was sitting in the kitchen drinking tea now, and looking out through the enormous French doors that led out to my patio. Little birds were hopping around cautiously, hunting for the birdseed I regularly threw out there.


    I decided that I could pass some time before Laycee and the city woke up by watching a movie. She shouldn¡¯t be too long; she was an early bird¡ªer, cat?¡ª


    and I wanted her to enjoy her rest. I had already given up on getting any more, myself. I wandered into a room downstairs with a huge flat screen and grabbed a remote. I reached for a blanket that was dangling off the back of a couch across from the TV, wrapped myself up, and sprawled out on the sofa.


    I started flicking through hundreds of channels when I flitted past the news and caught a word, bold and red. I paused. I clicked back to the station and read the headline: Hospital Break In. I unmuted the tv and listened, semi-disinterestedly.


    "Officials are on the scene of St. Janine¡¯s Medical Center today after an unknown group of thieves broke in and ransacked the hospital¡¯s blood supply located in the donation center. Authorities say that, despite the magnitude and professionalism of the break-in, there were no medical supplies or equipment stolen, and very little damage done on scene. More on this tonight."


    I pursed my lips and stared absently at the wall. A break-in where someone stole blood from a blood bank in a hospital. That was certainly¡­ interesting. More than likely, it was a coincidence, but the signs definitely pointed to these people. Who knows what they have going on in their head most days? But why would they steal human blood? Everyone knows it¡¯s forbidden. If you drink human blood, the Elders will exile you from the city, or lock you up. We have our own sets of laws here, and what the Elders say goes. Don¡¯t like it? Leave. But it can be hard to survive out there with the humans and maintain your blood intake.


    I continued on through more channels and gave up just past six hundred, instead walking over to a cabinet that held at least a hundred movies. I looked through and couldn¡¯t find anything that I didn¡¯t want to laugh at with a friend instead of watching alone in the sulky hours of the morning, and romance was out of the question. A surge of loneliness coursed through me and I was irritated again by foggy memories.


    I laughed darkly as I realized I might be a little depressed. I had such little interest in anything I used to enjoy as a human, or even something a typical young lady would enjoy. Remembering back to high school, I recalled a psychology class that taught us that depression was pretty common in young adults. Symptoms usually consist of lack of interest in things you enjoy, lack of appetite or overeating, and poor sleep hygiene. That pretty much hit the nail on the head. I told myself I was going to try to get out more and see what I could do to help alleviate some of those symptoms, but still found it humorous that even in the afterlife, I was subject to human mental illness. I guess it could happen to anyone.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Thinking of high school, I frowned. I often tried to remember anything from then or my earliest days in college. Today I could see surges of colors running around the football field. I closed my eyes and lay still while I tried to force my mind to remember.


    I think there was one guy I was interested in once I started taking classes at the local university near my house. What was his name? I really couldn¡¯t remember. I thought I remembered his beautiful sandy brown hair. His bright green eyes. Or were they blue? No¡­ they were green. His gaze broke through the fog of my mind and I could see them. His eyes had been two glorious emeralds. I remember thinking they almost looked unnatural; they were so green. He captured the hearts of so many girls that he met eyes with, including mine. I was certain that playing hard to get would make him more interested in me than the other swooning women that lost their heads around him. I¡¯d sit in the bleachers and watch him play behind the safety of my sunglasses, and giggle with my friends while he tried to get my attention. I wondered if he was wondering about me? Did he even remember me, or notice that I had gone?


    The more often I tried to remember old details about my past life, the more often I came up with success. As time had begun to pass between my transformation, I was able to remember significant things. My mom making breakfast as my siblings and I rounded the hallway to dig into pancakes; my father working in his office, that stress-crease over his eyes the dominant feature on his face; my little brother beating me at video games; my older sister dragging me into her room for late night movies and popcorn-propelled gossip¡ªLaycee reminded me so much of her. My school, my home, my friends, it all started to come back to me. It was subtle, but it was there. I sighed a heavy sigh. I missed them so much. I wished I could find them and go back to the life I was meant to live.


    The tv was now very uninteresting. I shut it off and shrugged the blanket off my shoulders. Walking to the large window, I peered outside. It had to be almost six now, because it was getting somewhat light outside. The tips of the trees behind the city walls now frosty with the blue haze of dawn. A little wave of fear and anxiety washed over me as my mind pricked with a consideration.


    What if I were to go to the pool? There were only a couple people out there, and they were wandering around minding their own business. The pools and spas were empty. Behind my cluster of emotion, I felt a twang of excitement.


    Should I? Laycee would want me to.


    I took a deep breath and walked over to the corner of the room to search for a bathing suit. I had so many clothes that they were kind of haphazardly stuffed into closets all over the house. It wasn¡¯t surprising to look into the one in the living room and still find more clothes for all weather. I found a skimpy but cute suit tucked into a drawer. I didn¡¯t have time to find one more appropriate, lest I change my mind. I dressed quickly inside the enormous closet and came out to look in the mirror.


    Although I was used to the color of my skin and the scantily clad way I usually left the house, I was still very alarmed to see myself in such a tiny amount of clothing. A couple of months ago, I would never have even considered leaving the house in something like this, let alone going to the pools in front of all these people. A bikini wouldn¡¯t have been a problem in my past life, my human life, because my skin wasn¡¯t so radiant with a pearl hue. The bathing suit was a deep blue color, with little, glittery streaks of gold running through it. It must bring out my eyes. Of all the damn things to accent.


    I stared for a while and shook my head, escaping the mirror; I wasn¡¯t going to back out now. I went into the bathroom and found a thick towel, and I wrapped it around myself for security. I felt a little better, now that I was covered, but the real awkwardness was sinking in.


    I was ready to go outside. Alone. Without my Laycee. To swim.


    I shuffled to the front door and reached for the doorknob. Holding my breath, I twisted it. You¡¯d think I¡¯d be used to these people, after what we had all experienced together only weeks ago, and every step I had already tried to take for nearly two months. But going to the pool was different. This was so¡­ intimate. It wasn¡¯t like shopping or wandering the museum minding my own business. This was personal. This was exposing my foreign body to strangers.


    No. You¡¯re being a sissy. Stop it. Just go. Like it¡¯s any other day.


    I swiftly¡ªbut not too much¡ªwalked over to the pool and dipped my toes in. Not cold, but not suitable for a brisk morning; not what I was looking for. I kept moving, very aware of each time a new pair of eyes was glued to me. Slowly I felt more and more of them boring into me, burning into my body, and I tried not to flinch.


    I passed the hand rail for the pool, the one I had wrecked during the attack, and ran my hand along the new, smooth metal. I chuckled to myself. I wondered if someone had been mad about it.


    Making my way to the jacuzzi, I kept my eyes on the ground, watching my feet take each step. When I got to the edge, I dipped a foot into the water. It felt so good I wanted to just plunge right in. Why had I never gone swimming here before again?


    Now the scary part... No. This was just like any other day. People did this all the time. It wasn¡¯t weird at all. Self-consciously, but still without looking around, I took off my towel. More burning. I folded it and stepped halfway into the water¡ªprobably a little more quickly than necessary. I reached up and tied my thick hair into a bun on top of my head with one of the many small rubber bands I always kept around my wrist, and I slipped fully into the water, my head the only part of me not submerged.


    The burning grew hotter. I almost felt it scalding my skin. My cheeks began to grow hot, as well, or maybe they were the source of the burning to begin with. I wondered what my face actually looked like with my cheeks flushed with black blood. The water almost felt cold compared to this.


    I tried to relax a little as the ripples in the water licked my neck and the jets massaged my back and legs. I realized now that even though a few weeks had passed, I was still dreadfully sore from being thrown around like a ragdoll in this very vicinity. Truthfully, I probably hadn¡¯t drank enough blood since.


    I felt a wave of stress shed from my entire body, and I was calming down a lot, still aware of the fiery eyes. I tried not to let them get to me; the water¡¯s comfort was too great. My body completely relaxed and I pushed the burning to the back of my mind. It was now hotter than ever, and I tried to shut my anxiety out and enjoy the heat of the water instead.


    I soon heard people arguing in hushed, sharp voices somewhere far away from where I sat in pleasure. They were growling out what sounded like objections under their breath, but I fought to ignore them.


    "Ahem," someone cleared their throat.


    I tensed, not knowing what to do. In my bliss, I had not heard anyone come up on me. I peeked out from under my lashes and saw a man standing at the edge of the spa. He was wearing a uniform. I opened my eyes and stared at him, and he stared right back, frozen now by my gaze¡ªcaptured, like so many, by my eyes.


    He cleared his throat again, nervously this time, "Would you¡­ uhh¡ª" he rubbed the back of his neck and tousled his hair, overcome with anxiety. "We always offer drinks to the people in the pools. Are you feeling thirsty, ma¡¯am?" He looked around, pleading, almost as if the question itself would insult me. I suppose, to everyone else that knew of me and how I felt about blood based on my actions alone, he truly thought it would.


    Blend in. Blend in. I wasn¡¯t sure how well I could handle a drink in front of everyone else, but I¡¯d come this far already.


    "Um¡­ sure¡­" I gave him a look that I hoped told him I was just as nervous as he was. He was surprised, but bowed his head and shuffled away quickly. I stared after him, still shocked, but curious.


    The burning was at its hottest, yet.


    I saw him go behind a medium-sized bar and start up a machine. I didn¡¯t really want to think about how he was getting the blood or from what, but I continued to watch. It was sort of like a smoothie or slurpee machine which was both disgusting and fascinating at the same time. Every once in a while, he would glance up at me and get jumbled. A few times he dropped something that was metallic and loud when it hit the floor. I laughed a couple times because it was ridiculous that he was so downright terrified. He must have heard me because he buried himself harder into his work.


    Finally after what seemed like an hour but was probably only a few minutes, he came over with a dark cup full of liquid that I could already smell, and I involuntarily made a face. He slowed his pace at my reaction, but walked over and extended his arm out to me reluctantly.


    "Thanks¡­" I tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. I took the drink from off the metal tray and he went back to his bar and began arguing under his breath with someone sitting in a hidden spot.


    So that¡¯s where that was coming from. He and an unknown source were arguing over who had to be the one to offer me a drink. I decided that it was best to shrug that off. I suppose I would have done the same thing, but I had silently wished that it didn¡¯t hurt my feelings so much. I stared down into the cup and I felt the burning boil my skin while the cold drink froze my fingers.


    I was on fire. I could almost hear their buzzing thoughts in my head.


    Here goes nothing.


    I took a small sip from the straw and tried to act casual, putting my arm out along the side of the spa. It really wasn¡¯t so bad I guess. I looked around like I didn¡¯t mind and sipped while I relaxed.


    The tension slowly began to evaporate from the air, and to my relief, the burning let up just a little. Movement started to catch the corners of my eyes as more and more people who I had not seen before started to come out and walk around the pool¡ªa few kids ran and jumped into the water.


    A feeling of actual contentment arose within me and I relaxed fully again, consumed by the cool and alarmingly refreshing liquid in my hand. Normally at this point I would be insane with anxiety and disgust, but here I was, doing my absolute best to¡­ blend in. When I observed people and caught their eyes, they did not glare. They didn¡¯t really break eye contact either; they just nodded very gently¡ªand did a few of them smile?


    Two women walked over and joined me in the water. They were gabbing on and on about something and I tuned out and drifted into my thoughts. I tried to feel and hear everything and take it in. A gentle breeze tickled my nose; a strand of my hair fell from my shoulder; the jet on my left calf changed from hot to cold; a bird flew overhead and sang its song; a squirrel scurried by and tried not to be seen. Everything seemed to have more meaning and feeling to it now that I opened myself up to it.


    "Hey!" A familiar voice shouted from somewhere. Startled, I looked around. At first, I saw nothing, just people continuing to unfreeze and bustle about in the rising sun. Then a little blip in the corner of my eye brought my attention to my house.


    Laycee was leaning a little too far out of the window to my bedroom near my perch. She waved furiously, a giant, smug smile taking over her small face. I shook my head and was soon laughing at how absurd she was.


    Until she fell.


    "Oh!" She tumbled out the open window and spiraled through the air, toppling heels over head, and very unable to stop. I shot to my feet, overturning my drink and frightening the women in the water with me¡ªthey had not quit babbling long enough to even notice my best friend headed face-first into my front lawn and fence from more than a three story floor. I didn¡¯t know what to do, and I was helpless.


    Laycee¡¯s pinched little face got a look of determination to it and she deliberately flipped in the air so her feet were facing down and her head the right side up. She popped her wings just soon enough to float down to the grass, like she was a living parachute. She hit the ground with a loud thud and stood up to shake her head like an animal. Brushing at her shirt, she straightened herself out. She looked like little more than a ruffled bird trying to set her feathers back down.


    She chirped and skipped over to me with a grin on her face.


    "See! I told you I could make it!" She beamed.


    "Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Really. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" I gawked at her, standing with my arms half-outstretched, like I was still trying to catch her as she fell.


    She held her stomach and laughed, head thrown back, and then she ran over and hugged me around my shoulders. "Good morning, little tulip! Whatcha¡¯ doin¡¯ out here?" She put her hands on her hips and looked around and saw the chatty women, still quiet, unnerved by the savage monster. She walked over to where they were huddled together and reached her hand out to them and smiled, "I¡¯m so sorry for the scene! Nice to meet you, I¡¯m Laycee. I see you¡¯ve already met Eyevoree."


    They both shook her hand. "No¡­ We haven¡¯t. My name is Jennifer. This is Annie. Nice to meet you Laycee, and¡­ Eyevoree." She eyed me unsure but slowly extended her hand out in my direction. I wasn¡¯t sure how they would react, but I was instantly aware of the burning again. I didn¡¯t know what it was, but most of all, it was just downright annoying.


    I waded over to them in the water, taking Jennifer¡¯s hand¡ªI saw her tense just slightly. Then I shook Annie¡¯s and smiled shyly.


    "Alright, now that we have intros out of the way, I¡¯m gonna go change!"


    Laycee ran back to my house to get something to swim in and my eyes drifted after her bounding away. She had her own closet and dresser in my house filled with her belongings since she practically lived with me now. I had even insisted she have her own room, but she liked sleeping in mine.


    Nervous and alone again, I shrugged off what had just happened¡ªor nearly happened¡ªand I retreated back to the other side of the large jacuzzi. When I made it to safety on my side of the water, I was now face to face with the scared little man who had brought me a drink¡ªonly now he was cleaning it up off the floor. He refused to look me in the eyes, but I could tell that if he wasn¡¯t uncomfortable with being so close to me again, he was irritated that he had gone through the trouble of interacting with me and it had been a waste of his time.


    "Sorry¡­" I whispered. He nodded brusquely and continued to clean, his face turned downward to the mess. I sunk into the bubbles, mortified¡ªcompletely submerged this time. I opened my eyes under the water and was so shocked to find that I was able to see as clearly as if I had goggles on. Every little particle dancing in the currents was perfectly visible. All around was a crystal clear blue; puffy and white where the jets blew out clouds of bubbles.


    But it wasn¡¯t just the water that was clear¡ªit was my glass eyes. I could see with one hundred percent efficiency. It was as if my eyes were above the water instead of below. I wondered for a second if there were underwater covens of vampires and then shrugged¡ªmysteries kept unfolding recently, why not? This really could have come in handy all of the times my family and I went on trips to the lake.


    The cold memory made me wince and I tried not to think about the images that wouldn¡¯t come to me this time. I closed my eyes and stayed under for quite a while. After a significant amount of time had passed, I came to the surface and peeked over the ripples.


    No Laycee.


    What was taking her so long? I was growing fairly impatient now that I knew she was awake and I didn¡¯t necessarily have to be alone. She was probably forcing me to stay out here by myself longer.


    Under the water, the jets made it quiet and peaceful, and I couldn¡¯t feel the burning. I took in the warmth when the jet¡ªby my back now¡ªchanged back to hot. I was sitting in a meditation position with my legs folded, my feet on top of my knees.


    Being this flexible was another thing that was surprising to me when I used to be so stiff¡ªI felt like a marble-skinned contortionist. I took my hands and linked my fingers together. I twisted my arms around into an extreme position¡ªa twist that would probably look incredibly painful even to someone who wasn¡¯t elastic like I was. I was curious to find whether or not I could manage it, and sure enough, I found myself looking sort of like a pretzel. I chuckled a little in my head and brought my hands down onto my knees to complete my meditation pose.


    Finally, a tiny hand reached down and tapped my shoulder. I came to the surface and saw Laycee standing to her knees in the water, smiling her taunting smile again.


    "So you come outside to swim and decide to hide under the water?" she teased. "Looks cool under there, huh?"


    I nodded, "It¡¯s so clear."


    Her grin reached her ears. "Let¡¯s play a game!" she chimed.


    So we spent the early morning sitting under the bubbles, trying to guess what the other was mouthing under the water. When the person guessing would answer, it was done in a charade. She and I laughed and played until the sun was high in the sky, and the city was alive again with the people of Anglaya.