Vampire's Abyss: The last of their kind

By: Draculamomma

This is a very new idea I recently came up with. Before a lot of you tell me that this has NOTHING to do with the 'Underworld' series, I would suggest you at least TRY and give this story a chance, I know it's not the best I've written, but I am working on improving it as much as I can. A bit of a warning, the beginning is a bit slow, but if you can bear with a few chapters, then the story will start to get really interesting. As usually, I am very open to constructive criticism and new ideas for further chapters, but PLEASE do NOT leave me any rude comments, else I will have to remove the story and take other severe actions. I am writing entirely for my own personal enjoyment, and to entertain many fans out there.

Thanks a lot, read and review if you wish dear fans, happy reading!

Prologue

I suppose it is easy for me to lie to you and say I was a success in high school and any other time in my miserable life. But then again, that would mean I would have lie to you, and lying is not something I abide by. From an early age my mother taught me not to lie. My mother was very good to me; she did a great job raising me, as I proved to be a difficult child for her. My father left her when I was a few months old. As far as I can remember I've wanted the bastard to burn and rot for life. I never met him, and I was more than happy to keep it that way. My mother and I survived depending on the love we shared for one another, and that was all I needed for a while.

Things changed a lot when I entered high school. My expectations and responsibilities increased, but my self esteem didn't. My mother took me everywhere she could to help. But the time I was sixteen I had already seen four therapists, and two family councilors. It was not because my mother thought I was crazy, she just felt the need to help when I didn't need the help. I didn't respond well to all the medical and mental tests they provided for me, and I was soon branded as a problem child at school.

People at school didn't do a good job of helping me either. Instead, they mocked and tormented me further as to get a rise out of me for their own selfish sick entertainment purposes. It was at that age where I learned people were all just using me to get what they wanted, and it sickened me as I grew older.

Eventually my grades dropped, and my teachers began calling my mom all the time. Their constant nagging and whining left my mother in distress, and I just no longer cared. After a few years, when I turned 18, my mother told me to get a job if I wanted to drop out; instead, I surprised her by doing both. I stayed in school, getting by on what I could, and worked at the town mall on the weekends and at any times I got called in.

Of course, things didn't get any better for me. At the age of 18, I was still heavily mocked and judged by my classmates and my self esteem slid down the slope of depression further as I began disliking certain bodily features I was endowed with. For one, I stopped growing taller after I turned 17. I was at a small height of 5'3, and didn't seem to be getting taller. I had put on some weight, not to the point where it was unbearable, but it was not a quaint sight either. My blond hair had acquired a darker tinge, so that it looked light brown, and it was not a color that went well with my slightly tanned skin. My eyes remained their deep shade of green, and were probably the only parts of my body I really liked.

Life seemed to reject my every move as time went by, and I fell deeper into depression, and it affected my mother greatly. She was suffering trying to get me to finish school while working at a medium paying office job. She grew more depressed as I did too, and I thought it would never end. And it might now have ended, if it weren't for him. He was my rescuer, my angel of death.

End of Prologue