The Beginning of the End

Her POV

The feline sighed wearily as she slipped off her clothes for that day as she half-cheered, half-groaned at the thought of finally going to sleep. It was well into the night, and she had been working ever since the sun had risen that morning. Her black fur had become a hindrance in the blistering heat, and she cursed her father for passing on his fur coat to her as she slowly got into her bed, shivering in the new cold she now felt on her bare 'skin' (after all, she still had her fur; mustn't forget about that little fact). She also cursed how drastically the weather had changed, from a fiery den to a glacier's haven, and she wondered how crops could even withstand such extreme temperatures. But, they still lived, and she still harvested them as the summer waned into the fall. 'That must be where the bitter winter is creeping into the night,' she thought grimly, pulling the blanket over her naked body so she wouldn't freeze overnight, although now that she thought about it, it would be better than whatever she might face tomorrow.

'Being a slave is certainly not a walk in the park,' she noted dryly, wincing as she tried to lay on her stomach so the wounds on her back were untouched by the firm mattress, but they stretched painfully, and she tried her sides with the same result. Finally, she sighed and lay on them, the less-painful of the other positions because they were only being pressed down upon the bed she had been provided. 'At least it has food and a room.' She wanted to laugh at how pitiful even her thoughts sounded, knowing that the deep cuts would be sore in the morning as they always were. Only now, there were new ones to join the old, almost like trophies other than the simple fact they weren't hers. She was the trophy, owned by a cruel-hearted individual who took pleasure in her pain. He tried many, many times to seduce her as well, but she resisted heavily, which caused him to get angry and beat her with something that had little dull knives on the end as another way to delight himself.

It made it hurt all the more.

"Damn him…" She spat to thin air, not expecting anyone to reply. 'Unless Satan himself decides to appear and take him, or me.' She sighed and shook her head, closing her eyes to go to sleep. 'Either way, if someone dies tonight, I'll behappy.'

His POV

He walked calmly through the town, looking normal to the naked-eye. Oh, look, a hedgehog taking a stroll. Isn't that lovely? 'Yes,' he thought with a mental smirk, 'and would you like to take a look in my mouth?' Oh, look, a hedgehog with sharp teeth taking a stroll. Isn't that lovely?

Being one of his kind was not as luxurious as it seemed. Sure, jump into a window, suck some blood, and then get out of there like a bat out of hell. Easy, right? Wrong. Completely, utterly, foolishly wrong. They burned you alive. They drove stakes through your heart. They feared you, no matter if you were polite or not. No matter if you only took the blood of those who welcomed it. No matter if they were kind enough not to kill the one they drank from. They didn't care. You were evil, sinful, bastards of hell. No mercy. No pity.

'I don't need mercy, or pity!' he clenched his fists at the thought, his eyes flashing dangerously. He calmed himself down so the (normal) red, the color of his victims' blood, would resort back to its disguise color. Blue. 'Ugh, could I have picked a worse color?' He'd rather walk around with his normal eyes, but then his fangs might poke out as well, and…well, it wouldn't be pretty if that happened, now, would it?

Then, he caught the smell of dried blood from a wound that had only healed recently, and his mouth watered as his hunger came back to him all of a sudden. The strong urge made his eyes change again, and he quickly slipped into the shadows beside a house as he tried to control it. 'No,' he tried to deal with the impulse, not wanting to eat in this town, 'I'd rather taste sweet blood; one untainted by the wickedness of greed and envy.'

But, his senses told him that the source of the blood was promising, and, with a huge sigh, he finally succumbed to his desire. 'This better be a tasty one,' he thought grimly, although he did allow himself to smirk, his fangs glinting in the moonlight, as he leapt onto the roof above him with ease. Then, he let his instincts guide him towards the one who would satisfy his thirst tonight.

Her POV

She was barely asleep when, in the darkness of her slumber, she heard something that sounded like her curtain opening up. She slowly stirred and yawned, sitting up slightly while hugging the blanket to her chest as she squinted at her window. Her owner (although she refused to call him that) had despised the idea of anyone seeing her, which was why she worked on a 'shift' of eight hours, alone, and was sent to her room for the rest of the day, alone. That is, unless he let himself in. He had put the curtains there, just for her he had said, so no one could gaze in on her, his prize.

But they were open.

She blinked sleepily, wondering what in the hell was up with the wind. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, wrapping the blanket around her naked form, and walked slowly towards it, muttering to herself, "Damn wind, with its damn howling and damn cold and damn strong-ness…" She did not care for her foul mouth or her grammar as she closed the curtain, the moonlight barely peeking in through the crack between the fabric, and went to turn to go back to bed when –

She was suddenly jerked around by her shoulders and pushed up against the wall, her weariness from the day's work and her possessor's antics making her too weak to resist, even as she tried to squirm from the unknown person's grip. Whoever it was held her firmly, though, so she was stuck against the wall with her hands full with the only thing that kept her dignity from being thrown out of the very window she had just covered. She squinted, her tiredness getting to her as her blurry vision determined a dark figure before her. She grumbled, "Who are you? Haven't I received enough beatings tonight?"

His POV

He examined her carefully, eyeing her strong grip on the blanket that covered her body, and wondered about her choice of words. 'Enough beatings tonight? Is she a servant?' He shook the thought away as he chuckled at her darkly and revealed his fangs, enjoying the way she shivered at the sight of them. "Not exactly…" He could tell she was afraid, they always were, and her shoulders shook a little under the palms of his hands. He gripped them tighter, denying her any chance of escape, and watched as her face paled. 'Be afraid,' he mentally spat, scowling in his mind at her reaction to him and yet relishing it all the same. 'Be very afraid.'

Suddenly, as soon as her fear was there, it evaporated into a sort of understanding, as if accepting the fact she was to be attacked by a vampire. He grew surprised by the way she slumped a little, bowing her head as if waiting to be bitten. He heard her mutter, "If you are going to kill me, at least let me have some honor."

He stood there, a bit stunned by her request. He couldn't understand what she meant by that, and he wondered how she could accept the possibility of death so quickly. "What death is ever honorable?" He said instead, his blood-red eyes softening a bit at the sight of her. She seemed to be wincing at the way he was holding her still, as if the wounds she had supposedly healed from were still a bit fresh.

"Let me put my clothes on."

'She's nude?' He hadn't expected such a situation when he had slipped into the window, but now that he took a moment to think it did make sense now as to why she clutched the blanket around her as if it was her lifeline. 'In her last living moments, she worried about being seen without clothing,' he mentally shook his head at her oddity, but he had decided long ago that he wouldn't kill another for blood. That was what made his kind feared, as well as the strong hatred towards them brewing out of that terror. He would not stoop so low as to fulfill their worst nightmares.

"Fine," he grunted and let go of her, wondering to himself, 'When did I become so soft-hearted? I could have just bitten and left. Oh, well,' he gave a small sigh. 'Can't be helped now.'

Her POV

She was surprised when he obliged, after a long period of silence where she felt his eyes watching her stand there, accepting death without hesitation. She could tell that he was surprised, and she was a bit, too. But not as much. 'Anything to get out of this hellhole.' He lifted his hands from her shoulders, and she quickly walked over to her bed where she had deposited her garments earlier and picked them up. At first, she paused, a bit uncomfortable of the idea of his eyes watching her get dressed, but she was deciding that since she was going to die anyways it wouldn't matter much when she heard his movements, and she looked back at him cautiously to see that he had turned around, his back facing her.

'At least he has some manners,' she thought with a grim mental laugh, but she took the moment to finally get a good look at her executioner. He was a hedgehog (that had been obvious by the spikes on his head), but he looked a bit…well, exotic would be the best word to use, although it didn't fulfill the desired intentions. He had the same basic fur color she did, while he also had streaks of red on his spikes, wrists, and legs. She had seen also (while he had been gripping her firmly) that he had a white chest, as well as deep, dark red eyes that reminded her of the dried blood she had left on the floor and the torturing device her owner had whipped her with…

She shivered and quickly put on her clothes, trying not to think about the images that threatened to come up once more in her mind as she struggled with her trousers. She finished less than gracefully, finally succeeding only after she fell to the floor and hissed in pain when her head made a loud thunk noise against it. She saw the hedgehog turn his head to look over his shoulder, although his eyes were not focused on her in case she was not ready, and he asked, "What the bloody hell are you doing back there?"

She grumbled angrily and muttered, "Just trying to kill myself before you do…" She rolled her eyes at her own sarcasm and stood up, dusting herself off as he turned around fully to see her dressed, his gaze flickering up and down as he examined her. Not liking the way his eyes moved slowly at some places, she cleared her throat and said, "Well? Are you here to gawk, or are you here to shed blood?"

His eyes then went up to her face, and all of her resentment disappeared for a moment at the way they seemed to recoil at her words. She had chosen just the right (or maybe the wrong) thing to say. In a flash, though, her impatience came back, and she growled, "Go on. Bite me." She almost dared him to do it, nearly taunting him as she stood there defiantly. 'Go ahead,' she closed her eyes and sighed. 'I have no regrets.'

"Actually," she heard him start a bit slowly at first, but he quickly picked up his pace, "I didn't come here to kill you."

Surprised, she opened her eyes to stare at him in confusion. "Say what now?" She couldn't believe what he had just said. 'He didn't come here for my blood? Then what the hell did he come for?'

He took a couple of steps forward, to which she reacted by taken a few back. He stopped then, seeing her suspicion, and smirked so that his fangs were visible once more. He continued, "I'm not a vampire that kills its victims; that would support the villagers' theories of us." He then started to walk towards her again, this time ignoring the way she backed away from him as she eventually cornered herself against a wall. 'Dammit, so he is here for my blood…'

"Damn…" She looked for a way to get out of the mess she had somehow managed to get into. "If you aren't going to kill me, at least kill my owner." She spat the word as if it had a vile taste in her mouth. "You aren't walking away from this house without one of us' blood on your shoes. It's either him or me, so choose wisely."

"What makes you think that you can order me around?" He seemed to get a bit angry, although she didn't really care at the moment what he felt. "I don't take orders from people like you."

"People like me?" She nearly took a step towards him, but she thought better of it before she fumed, "What, my kind who doesn't like to steal another's blood from them? To hell, 'my kind'! To bloody hell!" She growled at him, not scared now by his dangerously red eyes. "I'd rather be killed by you then left here in this nuthouse with a bite on my neck!"

His POV

What in the hell was this irrational feline thinking? To yell at him, to order him around, and to be a bloody prick about it! She had no common sense whatsoever. None at all.

"Well, as it goes, cat," he hissed, getting perilously closer to her as she stood with her back against the wall, cornered like a mouse (the irony of it all). "I'm the one who makes that decision." He didn't like to go to all this trouble to get a taste, but if she was going to be a little brat like that he wasn't going to slip away like a coward. 'I'll show her to disrespect me!' His eyes darkened, and he leapt fiercely to try to grab her in his iron grip.

Unfortunately, he didn't calculate her speed, and so he nearly ran into the wall when she ducked and slipped under him, escaping his hands with grace a feline like her would have. He growled and turned around, but her face was cold and indifferent at his 'threats' as she held up her hands defensively. By the way she stood with her feet shoulders-width apart and her knees bent slightly, he noted that she knew a bit of self-protection. Not fazed, though, he snarled as he lunged at her once more. He wasn't surprised when she blocked him with ease, but she did no moves to attack. Instead, as he tried to get a hold of his prey, she stayed on defense, keeping on her toes to dodge any attack while she danced from his blows.

Finally, he got fed up with this game she played and faked a kick, and when she went to dart away from it he brought his fist and smashed it into the side of her face, knocking her over as she gasped in pain and shock. He quickly pounced onto her, gripping her wrists before she could try to stop him and pressing his body down so she was immobilized. He brought his face so it was eye-level with hers and hissed, his fangs bared, "It looks like you'll get your wish after all."

Her POV

Staring up at him with frightened amber orbs, she realized that she was really going to die. No ifs, ands, ors, or buts about it. This was the end of her rope.

It had been cut short.

For some reason, she felt something tickle the corners of her eyes, and it took a while to figure out that they were tears. She closed them, trying not to let them slip through, but they trickled out as she tried to calm down. 'Don't cry,' she told herself, trying to get her mask of indifference back on, 'keep some sort of dignity for your last breaths. Stop crying! Then what my fathersaid would be true!'

"No matter what you do to me," she croaked, mostly an attempt to get herself to accept the fact she would never see the next sunrise, "it will never amount to the pain I've already been through!" She trembled under him, a lump now forming in her throat, as she remembered the parting words of her father.

"Go and be something of use!" He had spat on her, only a little child then, as the people came to pick up their new slave. His eyes were harsh and uncaring as they stared down at her. "All you're good for here is mistakes and crying! Now, off with yeh!"

'Do it,' she silently urged him, keeping her eyes closed so she would see only darkness as her life was drained from her body. 'Put me to peace at last. I have no place in this world.'

But, he did not lean down and bite her. He did nothing. Instead, he lay there on top of her, his breathing hot on her face as she waited for what seemed like hours. 'Well?' She wanted to scream at him. 'Bite me, dammit!'

Then, she felt a vibration coming from the floor under her back, and footsteps came to her ears as she gasped and opened her eyes to glance at the door.

Her owner was coming.

His POV

At the sound of someone's approach, he immediately leapt up and withdrew into the shadows, leaving the cat on the floor. He watched as she quickly got up and dived into her bed, barely getting under the covers and stilling before the doorknob twisted and the door opened to reveal her owner. He was a feline like her, except he had a strange mix of orange/brown fur and was taller than her. Although it seemed obvious that she did the work around the house, being at her servant status, he was still strong for a mortal. He had muscles on his arms and legs, as well as a fit body that spoke 'power'. His tail wasn't like hers, instead being short and lightning-bolt shaped as it moved from side-to-side like a dog's tail when his gaze fell upon her.

He grinned like a greedy rogue finding a treasure trove and cooed, "Well, what are you doing up so late, pet?"

She merely narrowed her eyes and hissed at him, much like an animal (a wild one, anyways), but he just chuckled as he started to walk towards the bed. He continued to coax her, ignoring the hatred in her eyes, as he said, "No matter. I would love to do something with you to pass the time, though." He smirked at her, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous and malicious intent in mind. "Any idea what that could be?"

She glared at him as he stood beside her bed, and she told him, "Go crawl back under the rock you came from, bastard." Her face, once wet with tears, now had turned stone cold as she watched with bitter satisfaction how his face twisted angrily. He then snaked his hand and grabbed her by the front of her shirt and jerked her up, giving her a fierce glower she eagerly returned. He spit in her face, but she barely flinched as he warned her, "You're lucky I forgot my toy this time."

Although she showed no signs of fear, her eyes did gloss over at the mentioning of the 'toy', whatever the bloody hell it was. Seeing this, the cat smirked and threw her back down, and as she picked up the broken pieces of her pride he slapped her across the face. He was rewarded only with the silence that echoed afterwards, but he seemed satisfied as he leaned down and whispered into her ear, loud enough so the hidden vampire could hear, "I'm too tired to do anything tonight, but tomorrow…" He let his unspoken threat speak for itself in the quiet he left as he walked with brisk strides out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

When he was gone, the hedgehog left no time for her to relax as he was by her bed in a flash, and he asked the question that had been on his mind for a while now, "Why didn't you reveal me?"

Her POV

She didn't speak a word, acting as if she hadn't even heard him as she shuddered at the thought of tomorrow. 'There'll be no end to it,' she realized in horror, 'he won't give me a moment's peace. He'll never stop!' The idea of him torturing her, whipping her and whipping her until he broke her, brought a chill up her spine. 'And no one would stop him…'

"Why didn't you tell him?" He wouldn't leave her be – no, this was the vampire, not…not him. "Why didn't you tell him I was there?"

Panicking, she turned to him and pleaded, "Please, take my life!" Her eyes were wide, and tears began to form once more. She tried to shake them away, but they kept coming. "Slay me now, before he gets to me!" She sobbed, putting her face into her hands and shaking violently. 'He'll kill me,' she thought with dread, 'but only little-by-little, slowly but surely turning my soul black with his tormenting, until I am nothing but an empty shell. And then…' She didn't even want to think of what he could possibly do, what kind of power over her he really had.

"Please…" Her voice was barely over a whisper; she hadn't the strength to go on like this forever. "Help me…"

His POV

What the hell had his bloodlust gotten him into?

He scowled at his vampire instincts. Go towards the blood, it'll be worth it.

Bah.

This was worth a taste of blood?

The feline, breaking down into nothing before his very eyes, was rocking with quiet sobs as she cried into her hands, all of her sorrow and anger coming out in shuddered gasps and moans. She was desperate to leave this world, wanting so badly to escape the torture of her owner…she had said that he would either 'have his or her blood on his shoes' before he left. Did she really mean it?

He scowled once more as he thought, 'Why should I help her?' He narrowed his eyes as he proceeded to give a bloody glare to the young woman before him. 'I have no reason to.'

"Why did you keep quiet?" He asked for the third time. He wanted an answer. And he planned on getting it, whether he had to shake it from her thick skull. After a moment of her being quiet, her tears now silent, he moved to do something (maybe knock some sense into her), but then she…did something completely unexpected.

"W – Wha!"

Somehow, he now found himself on the floor once more, except this time the feline was on top of him, hugging him by his waist as she continued to cry quietly. She kept repeating please, help me, please… Her pleas were relentless, but now she had added these words to her string of recurring babbles:

"I couldn't let him…couldn't give him the satisfaction…"

He listened to her for a while, just laying on the floor immobilized under her weight, as he thought over his situation. He had come for a simple and quick eat-and-run technique. He had ended up under a feline who was feared him one moment, hated him the next, and now was crying and hugging and begging him for release of her miserable existence. It was hard to connect Point 'A' with Point 'B', and he wondered if he should go now. But…

Her POV

She didn't know why she was confiding in him, a person she barely knew, and a vampire nonetheless; she just knew she was. She held tightly to him, like a child being separated from its mother. That similarity, however, made her think of her parents, and that ultimately made her think of her father…

"Daddy!" She screamed his name as they tried to drag her away. But she kicked and scratched with a vengeance, and she eventually broke free and ran back to her father. She clung to him, begging him with tears in her eyes, "Don't leave me, Daddy! Don't let them take me away!" She had known he had grown tired of her, after her mother had died, but she could still be useful! "Let me stay, Daddy! I'll do whatever you want, I won't complain!" She tried everything she could, staring up at those cold, heartless eyes. "I'll clean my room, and I'll wash your clothes, and I'll clean the floors, and I'll be nice to the strangers that visit your house –"

"Go and be something of use!" He spat. His eyes were harsh and uncaring as they stared down at her. "All you're good for here is mistakes and crying! Now, off with yeh!"

By now, the people had gotten a hold of her and hauled her away, their grips now firm and unbreakable as she continued to scream, "I'll be a good girl, Daddy! I love you! Please don't leave me! I'll be good, Daddy! I'll be good!"

"I'll be good…" She whispered into his fur, not caring whether he heard or not. 'Just kill me,' she thought, 'and do the world a favor.'

"I wish I was never born…"

His POV

The scent of salt had completely invaded his nose now; it was hard to smell anything else. She murmured things into his stomach, shaking slightly as her crying quieted down, now only a faint shiver and trickle of tears. He watched as she kept her eyes closed as if to shut out the rest of the world as she finally whispered to him, "Please…do something…don't leave me here…to die…slowly…inside." Her voice, shaky and filled with sorrow, held grief that seemed impossible for one man, one person to bear. With the way she shook, it was surprising she didn't explode with all of the emotions trapped in her.

'But, how can I help?' He knew that his conscience, although very rarely heard from, wouldn't leave him alone if he left her here, to fend for herself with that heartless owner, if he could even be called that. More like a monster…but aren't we all? Even he had a heart. Sometimes, normal mortals were more like the demons in the nightmares they feared than they believed. And he – he was living proof.

There were, really, only two options for him at that moment.

One: Fulfill her damn wish and get the hell out of there!

Or…

Two: Find another way to fulfill it without (key word there) getting her killed.

Now, how exactly do we manage on doing that?

'I…' He thought about it for a moment, before an idea came to him. 'I have a plan. But, only if she is willing – I do not force for anything, other than blood.' With that thought in mind, he smirked, letting his fangs peek out from under his lip before they returned to their hiding place as he sat up slightly, waiting for her to take the hint and get off of him. When she finally did (quite a few seconds later), she looked at him with curiosity getting the better of her, although she had suspicion in her amber orbs as well.

'Curiosity killed the cat.'

Her POV

She watched him, wondering what he was doing as he stared back at her, his face composed so she could not read his thoughts. She really wanted to know what he was going to do, and so she was glad when he began to speak:

"Cat…" He stopped before he really ever began, thinking for a moment, and then asked her inquiringly, "What is your name?"

"Most call me scum, he calls me pet, and I used to be called Paw-Paw with affection," she gave him a bitter smile, sweet and painful memories hiding behind it, "but my name is Shadowpaw."

He nodded, obviously taking the hint that she had been through a lot. Too much. It went without saying that she was pushed too far. 'Nobody knows the trouble I've seen,' she quoted her mother's song, the last one she had sung before her sudden death. 'Nobody knows my sorrow.'

Intent on keeping this game fair, Shadowpaw asked, "And yours?" She did not want him to have any unreasonable advantages.

He looked at her for a moment, as if deciding whether he should tell a mortal or not, but then he nodded for some reason and answered, "Shadow." He stared at her, as if expecting her to say or do something. 'Well, he's blunt. Oh, well.' She, however, just watched his face and waited for whatever he had planned to do. He seemed to realize that after a while, and he cleared his throat and continued.

"Shadowpaw, I know as well as any mortal that Death is not someone to take lightly." He smirked a sharp grin, but she did not shrink back at the sight of his fangs anymore. 'I mean, it only works for as long as you let it work.' He muttered, "I have brushed hands with her quite often…" He seemed to think for a moment about something, possibly a failed attempt at getting blood that probably ended up nasty. 'Of course, he would get away,' she wanted to scowl, but for some reason she couldn't. She could only mutter mentally, 'Vampires are good at slithering out of our grips, like snakes, but deadlier.' She tried to catch sight of anything in his eyes that would reveal how he felt, but they were just pools of cold blood as they gazed back at her.

"I will not kill you," he said finally, breaking the silence that had unknowingly fallen between them. She hadn't noticed until it was gone, so caught up in her own thoughts. "But, I do have a proposal."

"A vampire? Giving me an offer?" She grinned, thinking of how ironic and crazy this sounded. "This must be my lucky day."

He did not respond to that, although his eyes did seem to twinkle. 'I swear, he's laughing at me,' she mused as she nodded for him to continue. She was curious of what a vampire, anyone, could propose that would somehow put her in a better situation than she already was, without killing her. 'Seems impossible to me…'

"You could always run away," he started instead, as if he had just thought about it and didn't want to continue with his current thoughts before he knew, he knew, that there was nothing else she could do. She laughed at that, making him quirk a brow, but she merely shook my head as she mumbled, "Run, from here? I'd be back quicker than you could say 'Dracula'." She didn't care about the corny joke she had just made, instead just laughing again at the idea. 'Is he that foolish to hope about something like that? He is dumber than I thought he was.'

"Alright…" He sighed, as if a bit reluctant to tell her, which caught her curiosity fast. She tilted her head a little to the side, which seemed to amuse him, because the sparkle in his eye returned. She didn't exactly like entertaining him, but, if it made him tell her whatever the bloody hell his plan was, fine by her. "What?" She asked him, trying to urge him silently to go on. Maybe he didn't see the glimmer of hope in her eyes. Maybe he couldn't see how her heart beat like mad at the idea of freedom. Maybe he didn't, maybe…

Suddenly, as he gave her another grin (an excuse to show her his fangs again), she realized what he was getting at. Why he was nervous to tell her.

And why he'd rather her run away.

'He wants to turn me.' She stared at him, almost wishing for her sudden insight to be wrong, but it was in his eyes, in the way he smiled at her. He knew that she had figured it out, too. 'Yes, I am smarter than you think I am.' He watched her, waiting for her to think about it, and she could swear he didn't want to. He didn't want to spread the seed of vampirism. He didn't. 'What the hell?'

She stated simply, "You don't want to do it." She could see it in the way he looked at her, even as the idea of getting blood came to his mind and darkened his gaze. "You don't want to bite me."

"Oh, believe me," his grin almost became sinister, as if it was the bittersweet truth. "I want more than anything to bite you." He looked at her hungrily, his fangs out fully and his eyes bleeding a dark red, a sight that made a chill pass down her spine. She stared into those bloody pools, once again reminding her of the marks left on her back from him. They itched a bit, as if ants were crawling up and down them, as she remembered that day, today…

…and its tortures.

"Come on!" Her owner, his hand gripping his specialized whip tightly, struck her once more. "Move it!" He grinned with crazy delight, watching as she struggled to work faster. She knew he could see how much it hurt, to feel that jagged knife cut into her skin, cut deeper and deeper with each beating. He had to constantly send out for more clothes, because he would cut the back of her shirt to ribbons until it could barely hang onto her shoulders, although he found that enjoyable

Her shirt was probably soaking up the blood already, turning even redder as it seeped into the cloth. She tried not to let the pain get to her, tried to grit her teeth and ignore the fire on her back. But, it seemed her feet were plotting against her, and they tripped over themselves and caused her to fall into the dirt and drop everything she had been carrying. As she lay crumbled on the ground, wanting to get up but not having the willpower, he kept whipping her and whipping her, over and over again, yelling, "Worthless! Useless! Pathetic!"

She shook the image from her head, attempting to not shiver as her heartbeat quickened at the thought. The prickling on her back was now gone, only a faint reminder in her imagination playing with her senses as she thought, 'No, I will not be afraid. I will do it, if it means I can escape Hell.'

"I'll do it."

As he watched her for a while longer in silence, she thought to herself, 'I'm going from the scum of the earth to the world's worst nightmare come true.' She gave a wry smile at the image of her terrorizing her father, and she nearly laughed and thanked the hedgehog. 'What an improvement.'

Once again, he asked, "Are you sure?" He still seemed hesitant to do this, even after she had agreed. But her answer stayed the same; she nodded, determination lighting a fierce fire in her eyes, something that he seemed to notice. She would not back down. She won't be a coward.

He then nodded at her in approval, whispering, "So be it."

He got closer to her, his eyes turning completely to their normal color. His smirk grew eager, and his hands, insanely strong, grabbed her shoulders once more, but only to steady her as he brought his face up to her neck. She shivered as his breath blew hot over her skin, and her heartbeat quickened with a flurry as she thought of what kind of decision she had just made. She would be normal no more. She would be an outcast to the world, a creature hated almost more than it was feared. There would be no place for her to stay without scorn and threats, and it could be a life harder than she had ever imagined it to be.

But she would be free.

'Good-bye, father,' she thought as she felt his teeth graze her neck for a moment, as if trying to find the perfect spot, before they plunged into her skin. Instantly, pain caused an explosion in her mind, and she held back a gasp and tried not to cry as she thought of her new life, her life as a vampire.

'Good-bye, you bastard. I am your slave no longer.'

Fin