A/N: Greetings my fellow readers! I am amazingly delighted to honor this new story to Fanfiction! I just hope you guys will like it. The Vampires here are way...out of the classic ones. You'll see in a minute why.

Rated T for some horror scenarios, languange and shifting into the end is some brief sexuality that might change the rating.

And...I know the name of my OC is a boy's name, but what the Hell. To me, it's a unisex and it sounds beast.

Please excuse some mistakes, my editor was way to sick today! As in even if you're her best friend, you'd be running out of the damn house.

ENJOY!


Chapter 1: Not My Type

'Okay, this one goes onto this shelf and this one goes onto that...oh..shit...REALLY tall one.' I winced in cower as my eyes rose at such extreme apex.

I groaned, getting a good look at the hellish book. "Do..I have to? It's really...high..."

To answer mentally. Yes. If I wanted to keep this job and my sanity I would have to go through the worse. And fuck yeah, heights are the worst. My one traumatic fear that could change my entire universal life in mere seconds. There were only 2 solutions with this tragic problem.

Suck it up and do it.

Or be a coward and run to my idiot boss. I'd rather fall face first from a skyscraper. So, number 1!

That's just my dilemma. But...this couldn't be so bad. I think.

Shifting my rather tall step ladder infront of the bookcase, I trembled slightly as the ground below me began to get farther and farther away from my sight with each foot ascending higher and higher. I gripped the bookcase for life in one hand, shutting my eyes tightly.

'You call this a damned STEP ladder? Hahaha, might as well climb Mt. Everest for all I care!' I mentally whined, reaching the final 7th. Ya'll hear me? 7th step. I was officially 8 ft. high off the ground.

Luckily, the bookcase was a help for hold, but that didn't make the situation any better considering my mind played tricks on me when I dared look down.

'Don't look down, don't look down, don't FUCKING look down!' I chanted, desperate to not let my curiosity earn the best of me and my job. I peeped my eyes open, but as if my body had an instinctive reflex to explore my surroundings, it sadly did. I gasped at the floor, appearing as if it were 200 ft. away. With spikes out of it. Waiting for my fall.

Filled painfully with patience.

My shaking hand grasped the book so tightly I swore its pigmentation brightened by the minute into a snow pale. Oh sweet God. Help through this Hell, Satan a.k.a my boss, is enduring me to do! But bravery surged through my fearful perspective and set the book on its right place. I inhaled heavily in relief.

Happy endings weren't for everyone though. And that 'everyone' was me.

"Sawyer! Are you done with the book stacking?" A booming voice echoed throughout the entire bookstore, obviously startling me as my balance suddenly melted away and my entire body lost coordination in a blink of an eye.

My feet staggered back from the surprise and my hand's hold loosened, unlocking itself from the bookcase.

"Wah-whoa-grah- ahh!" I shrieked, gravity dumping itself onto (oh, why God) me when I fell off, feeling air for a good 2 seconds then onto the hard ground on my back, an ache slithering up and down my spine and the step ladder also falling in the process. "Ugh!"

"What the Hell was all that racket, Saw- ohh..." My boss came darting into the column of bookcases I was in. He had an apathetic expression on his face. "Should've known by that girlish scream."

Growling, I got up on the soles of my feet and steadied myself then picked the ladder up. I grumbled as I passed him to return the unsteady death ladder, "Leave me alone, Barlon."

"Oh c'mon, toots, you know how...un-graceful you are, no offense." He snickered in the background in his actually light Scottish accent. He sounded more American to me.

"Uh, offense!" I scoffed with hatred.

He howled in laughter as he made his way back to his office. I angrily slammed the ladder into the storage room, fury blazing through my blood.

"Cunt face," I digustedly drawled quietly, closing the storage room shut and grabbing my bag to go home from my shift.

"Bye sweetheart!" My boss cooed from his office teasingly when my hand was on the door.

Smirking, I glanced over my shoulder. "By ass soul!"

He sneered at me, but I exited out of the store with pride and victory.

Fuck yeah.

I bounced down the flights of stairs that led into the store, the cold humid wind of Scotland fanning my heated body. I swiped my phone out and called my Auntie Dottie. My lil' nickname for her. As for my Uncle...it was still yet to be discovered in the world of nicknames.

"Hello?" Her bell-like voice rang to me.

"Hi, Auntie, mind picking me up from work?" I asked, a warm smile forming on my lips as she chuckled. I could already imagine her shaking her head at my disgrace of bringing my motor bike along. Oh my amazing bike I was gifted with when I got here! It's a black, Triumph Daytona 675. I've always loved riding motorcycles than cars, and this bike was a step ahead in the world of the UK. I rarely drove it around, the roads here still confused me, but I do ride it to school. So yeah, a licensed motorcycle rider at 16 here! Oh, Scotland.

"Okay, Saw, I'll be right there," And with that she hung up.

My family may be the only thing that doesn't bother me here. Let's list them haters that I hate! Uh...my boss, the girls at school excluding one who became quick friends with me, the snotty, immature boys at school, the snotty, immature adults here, and the animals that apparently had grown to hate me! Yeah..I think that's everyone.

My most hated section if you mean to ask? Well.. haha! I didn't mention them because they were a more specific group. As in, a different species.

The effing' McAshton family.

Their ugly, I'm-a-princess-and-everyone-has-to-worship-me-along-with-my-extremely-hot-boyfriend, daughter, Sarafina McAshton! Oh my god! That bitch wishes she had worship when mostly the entire student body loathes her as much as my geekish attitude. Them medusa hairstyles she always wears? To much hairspray she aims at about 200 ft. to her right and left and she WILL turn into medusa, transforming everyone into rocks by those Hellish hair products that are like contagious diseases awaiting to spread! As in, Chernobyl, Ukraine nuclear radiation meltdown spread!

Onto the rest of the toxic family. The twins were something. They weren't as annoying as sister sinister or brother bastard, but they are under my surveillance for my younger cousin, Tony Thompson. Still rich-minded as they think they are, the two of those spawns are the most childish, incompetent, failed abortions that ever, and I mean EVER made beings that God allowed to roam free on this world. But anywho, enough with those 2 twits.

The last one was obviously my most favorite one to pumble and kill 'till he rots in the deepest pits of Hell. Daniel McAshton. Ugh, I just HATE everything he does! I hate his hair. I hate his eyes. I hate the way he has no sense of fashion. I hate his breath. I hate his shoes. I hate the person who gave birth to such a monster. I hate his ego. I hate his nose. I hate his lips. I hate his ears, oh god, I hate his ears so damned much. Like someone born right out of Dumbo! I hate his house, that could be known as the White House in this country. I hate that he's the same age as me. I hate that Auntie Dottie thinks he's fitting for me. I hate his voice. I hate his future. Ya' know he wants to be an artist when he can barely fucking pick up a pencil at school? I hate his tone and attitude towards his constant flirtations with me! I hate him for making me think about him right now about hating him!

Rah! Just one wonderous thought about him nauseated me until my guts and intestines came flying out my mouth!

Though, the bright side is. If there really was a day when I was stuck here on Earth with him. Only us. I would have the honor of torturing him.

Slowly, painfully...AGONIZINGLY.

But that dream was a one and a million chance so why let the hate subside?

Sorry, for my rather gruesome conacts with him, but no one needs to worry! I wasn't a very violent person, but I did have my keep-away-or-else-I'll-shoot-your-head-off scenarios. Those were on rare occasions though. I am actually the girl who wears nerdy glasses to read, the girl who is mellow and tameable, the girl who is mature, responsible, and protective, one of the billions of teenagers who does her homework right when she gets home, the teenager who works her butt off for one of the most stupidest people ever and guess what? You don't see her giving a damn and complaining. Yes, I enjoy life and value every second of it knowing half of the world doesn't get the house I sleep in, the food I eat, the education I listen to, and the love I earn. Yes, that's right. EARN. I ain't fake. My weak social status wasn't fake. And my whole life isn't fake. I don't accept people to be in my life if they only want something from me that values only them or they just like me for the money and crap of gold.

You want gold and treasures? Go dig in a ditch like the poor miners in the Gold Rush. That's a Hell of a way to do it. Or, you'll send some innocent person to do it for you?

Sick ass rich people.

Sure I have enemies, sure I have moments where I fall on my hopes, and sure I have problems, but I only have one thing to say:

My life...is perfectly, imperfect.

Suddenly, an ear-piercing, masculine scream was heard from a near by alley which seemed to amplify the horrid noise snapped me out of the cruel thoughts and...premonitions. My breath shaking from inhalance and exhalance, I stupidly followed the cause. I always wonder and scream at those protagonists in the scary movies to NOT go follow the monster and the Hell? Look where I am now! The curiousity must be a mythical force! Yeah! That's the shit! My anxiety level built up at each step my sole hit the solid ground. Beads of sweat prickled on my head and hands, my heart beating so loudly it felt like it was about to pop right out of my ears. The sound effects of 'splatters' and 'crunches' hit me. I wanted to barf at such a terrifying entrance. Just rounding the corner into the alley, my life flashed before my eyes.

"Oh...my..God.." I managed to gasp out, losing air.

My spastic expression was a result at such a sick sight in front of me. There, a young boy about my age of 16 years, towered above an innocent man. The boy's mouth was smothered with the scarlet liquid that used to run that man's body. His eyes crazed in hunger, coursing with red orbs. The victim's stomach was torn open and appeared empty. The young boy had something...meaty in his mouth. My mind calculated right when his head snapped at me. Red facing hazel. There in his mouth, appeared to be a long...vein-pulsing intestine and dirty bones hung out loosely in his hands.

Once taking a good sight at me, his hands clenched, the bones shattering into dust remains. He snarled, my body frozen with interest and fucking fear! I take that back, heights aren't so scary after all! Move Sawyer, move! Though that's what my mind told me, my soul and heart said: Stay. Why? So he could eat you guys up? Repellent was taking over me slowly, the teenager standing to his full height. He was bigger than my 5'6 size! Growling, he chewed the last pieces of the meat, creeping up to me.

"You smell...delightful..." He seductively purred to me through his..sharp fangs.

"W-what are you?" I stuttered, backing away.

He just roared in response, pouncing at me. I side-stepped quickly, my feet finally coordinating with me as I turned my body around, running like I was on drugs with the cops hot on my trails. Adrenaline charged particles must've oceaned in my blood because I felt my feet pump faster as the creature followed me at about 3 ft. behind.

I wasn't fast enough though.

Damn exercise!

A heavy weight trampled me down. I sreeched, falling onto my back. Gratefully. His hands gripped my neck, the nails digging into them. I tried in vain to reach air, but my windpipe was gradually contrasting smaller. My hands tried so hard to pry his grasp off, but no use. I drank in his features, needing the temptation to know who my murder actually was. He was greyish-pale, his eyes were a red color, his face was sculpted beautifullly, an ovalish tinge to it. His hair was spiked up in high points while the others were lain down in resemblance of a mullet. I whimpered as his mouth lowered down to my neck.

Well Earth, it was nice knowing you. I never thought I deserved this long, painful death.

AT ALL.

Of course as my mind pleaded a miracle came alast.

A flash of headlights hit us and the monster cried out in pain. The boy snarled, glancing down at me for a second. Instead of seeing the pure venomous glare I had just witnessed, his eyes shown fear, regret, and...adoration. Once the car neared he darted off of me and sprinted away at the opposite direction.

I stayed still, crying. The car swerved in front of me, a familiar blonde jumping out.

"Sawyer? What's wrong?" My Auntie Dottie bent down to me, propping my pale, breathless body up.

"I...don't know..." I whispered, holding my neck.

"C'mon, tell me! You never looked so scared!" She concernly investigated my face. "You're crying!"

"I just...fell and sprained my ankle." I lied, gulping and wincing at a burning sheer of pain that climbed around my throat.

"No, you wouldn't be crying and looking like this right now! Did someone come up to you?"

"No! I swear! I am fine, I just want to go home." I mumbled, getting up.

"Saw..."

"Really, don't worry." I assured her, limping into the car.

She got into her side and drove down the eerie, dark night. "You're trembling. Are you cold?"

I admit, that the teenage boy's touch was smooth and shock radiating, but icy cold like knives stabbing into the skin. I shook my head, looking outside.

What...was he? Cannibal? Crazy?...zombie? What the Hell? Whatever he was, he was nowhere near the human neighborhood. I've never been so scared yet so fascinated in this great amount in my entire life. The feeling excited me beyond reasons, but it nearly cost my life. I knew telling Auntie Dottie would've made her stressed out even more knowing some cannibal/vampire boy was lurking the streets. I didn't want that.

I was silent along the way until the silence broke through me. Breath steady, and heart at the right tempo, I smirked at her.

"So, Tony said there was some news to tell dear Sawyer Rachel Isabella Thompson? What may the news be?" I folded my arms, leaning back on the seat. She was unsure, but smiled at least.

"Ah yes, me and your Uncle will be attending a party tonight and we were wondering if you could-"

"-watch the little blondie?" I finished for her.

"The last time I checked you were a blonde." She playfully teased me.

"Aye, it's died black!." I corrected her.

"Yeah, with your natural dirty blond streaks." She chuckled, shaking her head, her bob hairstyle waving around.

"Excellent answer madam!" I anounced like in the game shows, making a fist with my hand for a metaphorical microphone.

We laughed, but stayed utterly quiet along the way to the house. More like castle. Houses that layed upon this country were mansions that Queen Elizabeth would've stayed at for a vacation. I remember my first night here, the enviroment around me resembles those haunted mansions you'd see in Halloween and horror films. Other than that, screeching sounds of nocturnal animals kept me up from dusk 'till dawn! The madness that morning ate me alive!

"Um...I'm just going to get started on my homework and just cook some stew for Tony so you and Uncle Bob could earn your night of pure relaxation of all the hardwork you two did when we moved..here!" I listed out to Auntie. We jumped out of the car, walking to the castle. Oh god, height fright by even looking up at it.

"Hmm...you sure got things in order." She impressively commented.

"Hah, Auntie, this isn't the first time I've babysitted for Tony, things were more cautious and strict back at Cali." I added blandly.

She nodded, walking into the litted castle, with me trailing close behind. I was greeted with my Uncle Bob ruffling my hair. "Hey there, squirt."

"Hey, Uncle Bob, how was work today?" I tried so hard to keep the McAshtons FAR away from my train of thoughts.

"Good, Daniel kept asking about you though."

"Wha-ew! Grah! I loathe him till' I face death by thee! And aye, he is what I call...a douche-bag, and Auntie Dottie, I do not like him, I shit you not that he is a cow and I don't want anything to do with this...thing." I declared in a British accent, medieval literacy speaking to me right now.

"Language, fair maiden." Uncle Bob mimicked my voice, playing along.

"My dears do you mind your amusing conversations for we have a ball to attend and I do not want to wait till' the morrow." Auntie Dottie also joined in with the accenty and past theatrics.

After a couple of giggles I headed upstairs, crashing into Tony with a grunt escaping our lips at the collision. We tumbled onto the floor, us laying beside eachother.

"Oww..." We groaned on unison.

"Nice to see you too, Tony." I sarcastically greeted him.

"Huh? Oh hey, Saw!" He tackled me down as I was propping myself up with a bear hug.

I hugged him back, giggling. "Jesus, I was only gone for a few hours and it wasn't like I wanted to go to work."

"Still, I was lonely without you," He pouted.

I gave him a peck on the forhead then stood up, grasping his hand to bring him to his feet. "Well, we have until 9 and its only 6 so, a whole two hours!"

"Really?"

"Mm-hm, I'm just going to do homework then cook, and after, tada! I'm free!" I bowed, my arms outstretched.

"Okay! I'm just going to draw." Tony told me, running into his room.

"Sawyer! We're about to leave make sure Tony is in bed by nine." My Auntie Dottie and Uncle Bob came into their room like, modern and average civillians then came out like a very successful poker couple from the streets of Vegas.

"Wow! Looking hot tonight you two!" I joked, but actually meant it in a beautiful and handsome matter. "But no worries, Auntie Dottie, I got it all under control!"

"Good, goodnight gorgeous," Uncle Bob and Auntie Dottie kissed my head then entered Tony's room.

I trotted into my room, the laterns I hung radiated in the different colors around my room. The room was wide, with a giant balcony across from my bed, the wind blowing the curtains in a calming symphony. My black cat, Kattina, tampered over to me, rubbing onto my leg. "Hey there girl."

I picked her up and cuddled with her before setting the furry animal on my bed. She meowed and I waved my fingers at her in a 'bye-bye' motion.

I walked into my closet and stripped down of my sweaty clothes into a pair of cotton, purple tights, a shaggy black t-shirt, and some rainbow socks. I tied my hair up in a loose ponytail. I stood in front of my mirror, a purple, blackish bruise forming on the valley of my neck. I bit my lip, straining in the cry of pain as my fingers traced over it. Fogetting the Hell about it, I breathed in a huge chunk of air. My eyes sunk in my body at the same time.

I was as I said earlier, 5'6 ft. I had a rather waspy waist, my curves were...average. My hair was jet black with my natural streaks and the hair was styled straight down (it was pretty long) with sharp bangs that shaped my face into a heartish formation and ended on my eyelids. Speaking of eyes, mine was..personally hazel brown. Not greenish. My cheeks always had their natural rosy shade on them, which annoyed me beyond the spirits! My skin color was a really light olive color. I didn't consider myself beautiful just...cute, average, and decent. But the worse is my retainer. Yeah! I hate it! Braces and shit! Along with the skin, it was pretty clear. Just a couple blemishes at times and acne arose a little during my period, but other than that, HA-FUCKING-LLUJAH! My lip's upper half resembled the top of a wide heart and my bottom one was pouty and full. That may be the only pretty thing about me.

17 minutes passed, me in the bathroom struggling to take my contact lenses off. I squeaked, taking the transparent, deadly, puny objects out of the warmth of my eyes. "Dah! Ow! Careful!"

Placing them in ther case, I walked out of the bathroom and I grabbed my brown, horn-rimmed glasses, slipping them on along with my backpack.

Running out of my room, I heard the front door close, signaling the parents taking their departure. I headed downstairs into the kitchen and popped the fridge open.

"Oh...fucking Hell..." I whispered, realizing how...vacant the fridge shelves were. There wasn't enough to make stew, might as well have to go with spaghetti. I ran to the pantry, relieved to see a box of stale yellow sticks waiting to be broiled.

Pulling out the pasta, tomato sauce, some cheese (I like mine cheesily, cheesed), and a saucepot out. I started boiling the pasta in steaming water as I cooked some hot dogs, eating slices of apples and dipping them into caramel while doing math homework on the island.

I admit. I'm a cooking freak. It was something I enjoyed doing, but not as much as music. I play...I guess. I play: guitar, piano, flute, and the harp. Being lonely before I was under the Thompsons in Scotland was purely boring! My mom would always be out with the real estate selling. And my dad would've been touring Europe for piano concerts or to play in orchestras. I was stuck with my nanny, whom I hate and was gladly enough to show my spoiled side and get her fired.

Frustrating on a math problem, I dropped my pencil down carelessly, and walked to the stove to finish the remaining hot dogs, boiling the noodles and eating up my snack. Stirring the pasta, an amplifying thud was heard from upstairs. I twisted the stove knob to shut it's flame off, running lightning-speed upstairs. I stopped midway in front of Tony's room, hearing a voice. Pressing my ear onto the cold wood, I thought of all the names the voice that had just spoken could have belong to.

"What twisted kind of mortal are you?" A thick, Scottish accent asked.

The twins? Nawh, would've sniffed their aura of malice.

Sarafina? Would've sniffed up the pile of dog perfume she wears. And yeah, I did mistaken her voice as a male!

"Tramp..." I grumbled to myself and rolling my eyes annoyingly.

That narrowed it down to one piercing, eye-blinding, ugly, mistaked teenage boy.

DANIEL.

With that, I whipped the door open.

The sight enchanced my heart to race with extreme speed faster than my eyes widening. First the other boy and now this one?

Well, one things for sure this kid actually looked better than Daniel, not the other one though, but more adorable and cuter! Oh, Hell yes.

But, that doesn't mean he's my type!


A/N: Good? Bad? Eh? Thanks to all those who took the chance to read the entire first chapter!

P.S: Those who have the names of Sarafina and Daniel or know someone..close. I do not mean any insults to them for this is just a story and they were the first names to struck my mind. XOXOXO

CIAO! Review Please!