When the day is lost, the night falls. The burning passion I have for you ignites our love on fire. You are the light in my darkest hours...

Isabel May Johnson was just your average teenage girl. Her physique was a scrawny one at a height of 5'6. She had warm hazel eyes that matched her overall calm disposition. Her hair was a light brown that she despised; somehow, her dark hair had become lighter as she spent her years growing up in the sunny state of California. She figured it was because she spent most of her time outside; her favorite past-time was relaxing on the beach with a good book-or two. She didn't mind being outside though. She enjoyed the sun; the feel of the burning rays against her fair skin was a soothing relief to her. Try as she may, she could never quite hold a tan as well as the other teenagers of San Diego could. She had even become accustomed to the name "Snowflake" at school. But all of that was in the past now.

It's just another normal day. She thought wryly to herself. Normal was hardly what you would call the desolate town of Port Angeles, Washington. Her preferred choice of words would've been: gloomy, deplorable-or more fittingly-Hell.

This had not been the life Izzy had wanted, but she had never really had a choice. It was merely a selfless act, following her mother's wishes.

After more than 12 years of being divorced and not having much contact with each other, her parents decided it would be best if she spent the rest of her Senior year in Washington with her father. Her mother had gotten an amazing job opportunity, one in which she had hoped to have for almost 3 years now, and there was no way she was going to stand in the way of her mother's dreams. Even if it meant crushing her own in the process.

The lifeless little town of Port Angeles Washington was her own personal purgatory all in itself. From its foggy cloud covers, to its brutal winters. Not to mention the endless rain that seemed higher in season this year. That was just the sort of luck that Izzy Johnson carried with her.

This was nothing compared to the welcoming Cali weather. From temperatures ranging in the high 60's to the low 80's...and that was just the winter. But there was no sunshine in sight for miles, as she peered out her rusted window. The raindrops drizzling shamelessly across the weathered glass, taunting her.

With a sigh, she decided being locked up on a Saturday night in the little quiet house was something she was simply not going to put up with. She grabbed her raincoat, stomping down the stairs heavily.

"Where you off to, Iz?" Her father asked with slight suspicion. "Out." She muttered in aggravation.

Her hand was on the doorknob, hesitantly. She didn't like the irritated tone she had used with her father. After all, he hadn't done anything wrong.

She half-smiled, apologetically. "Is that okay?" He turned the TV off and walked over to her, stretching his long arms.

"Yeah, sure, Iz. Just be back by 10, 'kay?" She nodded, turning the knob and opening the door. "...And, Izzy?" She stopped once again, turning back around to face him. "Yeah, dad?" She asked quickly, in a rush to get out already. He looked down, pausing, changing what he was going to say to something more important.

"Be careful." She grinned a sincere smile. "Sure thing. See ya." She walked out to her car as the rain pounded down heavily on the hood of her coat.

She couldn't help but feel the weary gaze of her father's eyes watching her as she left. Her father meant well, she knew that. But she'd made it this long without her father in her life-not more than a few weeks a year, anyway-so surely she could take of herself now. Still, it was nice to know that he was trying to make up for lost time.

She made it out of the secluded part of town that her father's house resided in, slower than usual, as she tried to watch for any ice on the curvy roads leading to the more metropolis side of Port Angeles. It wasn't a very big town, so traveling wasn't a difficult thing to do. Within 8 minutes, she was pulling into a parking spot nearby the theatre. Not knowing where exactly she planned on going, she decided to take a walk and give her head a little TLC.

Not knowing how long she had been walking, she stopped at the local grocery store to buy a pack of sweet mint gum-her latest guilty pleasure. Exiting the store, she looked up at the dark sky, with only the street lights and moon to illuminate the black of night. It was half past 10, and she figured that was late enough to make her father worry, so with a sigh, she started heading back to her car.

Casually strolling around the street corner, she noticed the soft sound of footsteps behind her. At first, she didn't think anything of it. You're not the only one who can take a walk at night. Just relax. She reassured herself.

She had gone a few more blocks, trying desperately to remember what street the theatre was on, and realized that she had not lost whoever was behind her. Coincidence? I don't think so. She turned her head slightly, peering over her shoulder to identify who her follower was, just as the footsteps became louder. Closer.

Her eyes strained as she saw the tall man who had been drunkenly stumbling over his own feet. His eyes met hers as a gritty-toothed smile spread across his face. It was obvious that he liked what he saw. She turned away, quickening her pace.

"Where's the rush, baby?" He called to her, speeding up his pace to match hers.

She was almost to a slight jog when she had reached a turn-point. Her only hope to get away from him was to cut down the alley to her right that led straight to the parking lot where she would be able to get help. It wasn't the safest way, but it was the quickest...and she took it.

Before she had time to fully turn into the alley, he was there. Right in front of her, blocking her only exit. He smiled that gruesome grin again. "Hey there, honey. Where you off to in such a rush? I just want to talk." He said as he picked up a strand of her hair, smelling it, sighing in contentment.

She cringed away. "D-don't touch me." He released her for a second as he laughed a shaky laugh. She took the opportunity, and tried to pull away from him. He caught her arm tightly, pulling her back to him. "No, no. You're not going anywhere, baby." He pinned her up to the wall. "You're going to stay right here with me." She opened her mouth to scream, just as he placed his hand over it, muffling her cries for help.

"Now, why you gotta be difficult?" His hand was tight around her mouth, the other pinning her fragile wrist to the wall. She could feel the blood vessels breaking, a bruise slowly making its way to her skin.

"I just want to have some fun." He breathed on her face. The smell was thick with alcohol.

She knew this was the end. It wasn't a happy ending, but she really wasn't expecting one, anyway. There was nothing she could do. No one to help. Her life was dangling in the hand's of this greasy drunk, and he was going to take it all away from her.

He pressed his dirty face up to hers, inhaling again. He moaned out of pleasure, clearly pleased with himself for finding such an easy target. Izzy's face was horror-struck as she whimpered beneath his dirty hand. "Shhh.." He said trying to comfort her. Funny, that was the last thing she would get from him.

She looked away towards the alley, her only escape, wishing she had been faster. Her eyes widening as an inch of hope came to her. A man appeared from the dark shadows of the alley, his face unrecognizable to her through the thick wall of tears obscuring her vision.

All she could do was hope. Hope that he would help her.

The drunk followed her gaze to see what grabbed her attention. He groaned. "Look man, this is my piece of ass. Go find your own!" He mumbled incoherently; the alcohol was obviously getting to him.

She looked at him with pleading eyes as a single tear slid down her face. Help. She cried to herself.

She watched as he produced a cigarette from behind his ear, lit it, and began striding towards them, ever so casually. Her eyes were still so wide with horror from what had happened just moments before this mysterious man showed up, that she thought her eyes might pop right out of their sockets. Her knees were buckling underneath her, she kept having little jolts of spasms from how much she was trembling, and her whole body felt like jello. If the drunk hadn't been holding her into place forcefully, she would've melted into the ground.

As he came out of the darkened alleyway, she caught a glimpse of him as she blinked a cluster of tears away. The moonlight glistened off his pale olive skin. His perfect, statuesque, marble-like textured body. The purple blotches, in which she would normally get if she had stayed up all night studying for a final, underneath a pair of eyes that were black as night. If she hadn't already been so immensely aghast, she probably would've cringed away from him, too.

He took a drag off of his smoke and blew the toxic air into the man's face; the man coughed once, expelling the second-hand smoke from his own lungs. "I don't believe she's your anything. And I don't believe you have the right to violate her, let alone speak to her, you inebriated scum." His deep voice held a tone that sent a shiver down her spine, and judging by the beads of sweat that had begun forming on his forehead, it had produced a similar effect on the drunkard as well.

"Now, are you going to remove your hands from her, or am I going to have to remove them for you?" Something about the way the dark figure had said that made it sound as though he would literally remove the man's hands from his arms, not just away from her body. The man swallowed, and quickly obeyed, releasing Izzy from his grubby fingers. She let out a sigh of relief.

Anybody else would have thought this man was dangerous, maybe even lethal, but there was something about him that made her feel...safe.

She was foolish for thinking that. Safe was something she definitely was not, for the time being. In that moment, she was free. Free from the dangers of the man who had tried to assault her. The smart thing would've been to have run as fast as she could to her house and lock all the doors. The smart thing would've been to have called the police and report what had happened to her, hoping they would find the man and arrest him before he tried to hurt someone else.

Yes, that would've been the smart thing to do...but Isabel Johnson was not smart. She was foolish, and so very curious about the mysterious man who had become her savior. Fascinated by his every presence, his every move. The way he spoke to the man in an impassive tone, making it seem even more menacing than intended.

No. She would not run. She stood there, frozen against the wall, with the same horror ridden expression. It was all the same. Except for her eyes. They now held a certain curiosity that yearned for answers.

She listened closely, trying to make out what it was that he was saying to make this fully grown man tremble in fear like a little girl. "She was asking for it… It's just a game, really." Her forehead creased in anger and frustration as she heard the man's ruthless plea for help.

Asking for it? A game? In what way had she ever asked this grimy alcoholic to assault her? She was pretty sure she had never said anything about wanting to play a game, either. The only thing she had even said to him was not to touch her. If he could twist her words around that much, then there must have been some serious mental issues at play with this sad, pitiful man. Her eyes narrowed as she listened more intently.

"I didn't touch her, I swear." She hadn't noticed until now that her savior had placed the end of his cigarette dangerously close to the stubble lining the drunk's jaw, while the other hand was scrunched in a fist around the drunk's shirt, holding him up-off the ground, it appeared. How...? Isabel shook her head. Adrenaline rushes have been known to give people strength they didn't know they had. It was perfectly explainable.

"Perhaps not. But you certainly intended on doing so, didn't you? What would have taken place here had I not happened upon this little scene, hmm? I certainly don't believe that you would have walked away leaving the girl unharmed." She shuddered at the thought of what would have happened if he hadn't been at the right place at the right time. She was truly grateful that he was. She would owe this stranger her life for rescuing her.

Her heart beat sped up as he continued to interrogate the man. "You would have raped her. Stolen her innocence. And then extorted tales to keep her silent. Wouldn't you?" She swallowed hard, her throat felt raw and dry. Her breathing started coming out in little gasps heavily as she pushed the thoughts away. "And what sort of punishment do you think you deserve for that?"

She was in complete shock as he asked this question, obviously meaning it to be rhetorical. He was being so complacent about the whole situation.

"Please..." the man slurred, almost a whisper. His eyes were wide; this pig was dangling on the edge of life and death and he was just sober enough to realize it. The dark eyes bore into his soul as slithered out a departing note: "If you ever touch this girl, or anyone else again, I will hunt you down. And believe me…I'm good at finding people." And with that, he granted the sleaze ball mercy and released him. As soon as his feet were back on the ground, he lurched forward, stumbling into a sprint, evading the punishment he so rightfully deserved.

An involuntary shudder raked itself through Isabel's chilled bones; it wasn't the fact that she was now alone with this strange man that made her uneasy, but what he had said before let the man go. "…I will hunt you down. And believe me…I'm good at finding people." Her curiosity raged inside of her, fighting to relinquish itself.

She had so many questions for him, but couldn't seem to find her voice. He turned to face her. "Are you alright?" He asked in one of the most benevolent voices she had ever heard. She managed to sputter out a reply. "Yes..." She nodded, asking herself that same question. Wondering if she was lying to herself or not. "I'm fine...thanks to you."

She straightened her body out, waiting awkwardly for a response. She stepped closer to him, her eyes never leaving his. She hadn't noticed that he, too, had taken a step back just as she stepped forward. She stopped abruptly, biting into her lower lip, confused. He seemed to have shied away from her.

"Are you alright?" She asked softly, wondering if she had done something to upset him. His expression softened, amused, as he chuckled lightly, flicking the remains of his cigarette to the ground. "Excuse me, but I believe you're the one who got assaulted, not me." His voice was humorous, but smooth. He had a certain beauty and elegance to him; something she was not familiar with. The boys in California hardly paid any attention to her, and the ones who did never had anything intelligent to say-or do, for that matter.

She half-smiled, "Yeah...I just.." She shook her head embarrassed. "Nevermind. I'm, um, Izzy...Izzy Johnson." Her smile relaxed as she extended her hand towards him. "Everett Kingston." He gazed at her hand as he spoke, the veins dominant under her fair skin. He could see the purple-ish bruises starting to form around her wrist. Izzy followed his gaze to her hand and dropped it quickly, a wave of embarrassment washing over again as she felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

His head snapped up instinctively at the scent of the freshly boiled blood. He wanted to reach a hand up to her face and brush his cool fingers across her cheek. He wanted to feel the heat. He wanted to smell the sweet scent her blood emitted up close, so different from any other human he had ever feasted on. It had an almost citrus-like scent. He leaned in without being aware of doing so-he wanted to taste her.

In that instant he regained control of himself, pulling back as he looked into her curious eyes. He saw something burning deep within her hazel irises. She couldn't die. He wouldn't allow it. "I...I have to go." He said quickly, turning as he stalked off back to the darkened alleyway. When he was sure there wasn't anyone around, he sprinted off into the trees, running as fast as his inhuman legs would go.