Hey this is Ninja-Wolf-300 here, and this is my first ever fan fiction. So I Hope you like it. :3
Disclaimers~ I don't own anything but my ocs.
The Life I Live
~Prologue~
The rain that fell around me felt so cold against my pale skin. I looked up with my lifeless jade eyes searching for something that I couldn't find. The water drenched me, the rain hid my tears as they fell silently down my face and cleansed me of all the blood from my first meal, from this disgusting being that I had become.
I silently cursed the man that did this to me, the man who made a monster, a killer out of me. Worst of all he took what little innocence I had left in my already crumbling adolescent life. My dear, dear sweet innocent little sister. Sadness leaked from my eyes as the thought of her was drawn to my mind. But it was quickly overwhelmed by a flare of white hot rage that immediately followed her remembrance. I hate him so much! I am going to make him pay for what he did to Emily! For what he has done to me! My eyes flashed a deep shade of crimson red at the promise of his death.
I let out a shaky breath that stuttered like fog as it mixed with the cold harsh wind. Hesitantly I stood, pausing in awe at the new power found in my legs. I uneasily walked across the clearing to the woods, looking back only to cast a glance of farewell to the fresh grave that held my sister. I walked quicker as the crisp air licked my hands. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets but the anticipation of being greeted by a comforting warmth was quickly diminished as my hand hit a crumpled piece of paper. I clenched my hand tightly around a familiar image of a laughing girl caught up in the ecstasy of life. A mere sketch, but this was the last thing I had of her, her portrait. I felt sick as another wave of emotion hit me like a knife, begging to surface the memory of her face as she pleaded with me to draw her a picture for her 13th birthday. I had never been a fan of my own work but she had always loved my drawings and had been my biggest influence and support. Emily, I promise you, I will make him pay. Vincent Borcot is a dead man.
But that was over 800 year ago.
~Finish~