Okay, I've finally decided to upload it! YAY! (does happy dance) And only thirty minutes before the 31st...a Halloween gift, perhaps? (grins) I just couldn't stand not putting it up, and this was as good of an opportunity as ever. Hope ya like my continuation of 'A Bite for Freedom'!

'On the Run'

Genres: Horror, Tragedy, Adventure/Action, Spiritual, Hurt/Comfort, Romance (eventually!), etc.

Rated: 'M' for Violence, Suggestive Themes, Alcohol and Tobacco Use, Adult Content, Language, etc.

Chapter One

Silhouettes of Blood

Her POV

(Dream)

"Daddy!" She screamed his name as they tried to drag her away. The small feline's black fur was matted in several places, and it looked unclean and in bad condition for a cat. The little girl had only just gotten over her mother's death, and now she was leaving the only place she could really call home. 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!" He shook her off, but she continued to plead with wide, tearful eyes. 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. She shivered as the gaze fell upon her small and frail form; it was as if all traces of her father had disappeared and left this stone mask to say good-bye to her. His voice held no love or care anymore. "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!"

(End Dream)

She lurched upright with a small gasp and opened her eyes only to be greeted by more darkness, and as she sat there blind and panted with terror clouding her senses she slowly figured out where she was and what had happened. She gave a miserable sigh as she lay back down, her yawn a sign of her body's protest to her sudden schedule change. She regretted the decision to finally fall asleep; for she had not slept for two entire days in fear of what could happen to her, where she spent the time in hiding thinking of her strange new life. She moved the blanket aside and crawled over to the curtain-covered window that painfully reminded her of a familiar setting from only a few nights ago. She took a finger and carefully lifted the cloth that blocked the light of the sun to let a sliver peep into the room, and she sighed once more and let it drop back to its place in front of the golden disc and its rays. The room became dark once more.

She sat down and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees and bowing her head into the cradle she made as if to hide from the world. She shut her eyes and focused her attention onto her breathing, as if to make sure it wouldn't suddenly stop sometime soon. The silence around her was unnerving, and so she tried to block it out with memories over the past few days.

They had escaped the village in the dead of the night, and since Shadowpaw had no place to go Shadow had offered to take her with him. She had no clue what she was going to do, and so she accepted and has been following him ever since. They've had to move during the dark hours, for obvious reasons, and it was hard to stay up during the night where she usually slept unawares in her bed. Since her schedule was so screwed up, she would sit all day when she should really be sleeping and think. She didn't want to; more than anything, she'd rather talk to the vampire, but she had no choice in the matter. She was starting to form bags under her eyes, which is why she finally succumbed to exhaustion that day, but she had, as she feared, had that same dream again.

It was always the same; her child-self being taken from her home, and her father not caring. In all reality, it wasn't a dream. It was a memory. A nightmarish memory, but a memory all the same. She barely knew her mother, so she could barely dream about her. And any other memory besides her family was filled with slavery. Not that many options. It seemed her subconscious wanted to dwell on that day, and so that was where her thoughts took her often.

Slightly frustrated with herself, she sat her head up and gave a small sigh. She glanced over the room, her eyes adjusting to the lack of light, and saw her companion against the other wall. He was in a sitting position as well, but he was asleep, with his white chest rising slowly and evenly. He had one knee drawn up to rest his hand on while his other arm lay in his lap, and she found it an odd arrangement to fall asleep in. She wouldn't have been able to manage something like that, or at least she thought. She might actually have to try it, since he looked comfortable in it.

As she examined him, she enjoyed her senses to the fullest. Vampires never ceased to amaze her. It seemed that, when she had joined them, the world suddenly burst open with new smells, new colors, and a totally new perspective. She noticed that Shadow smelled like cinnamon, especially when he was angry, and her own scent reminded her of a strange thing she had heard, called a coconut. Also, whenever she looked at him, she noticed how there was something…hovering over him, like the atmosphere just wasn't right around him. Like he had a dark aura or something. It differed from the others they passed in the streets on rare occasions, whose appearance was colorful and vibrant. His, and probably hers as well, were mostly a dark grey or black, only showing colors in flashes, and they reacted towards mostly their strongest emotions; anger and fear. At least, that was all she had seen so far of the aura stuff; she was kind of new to the whole thing, after all.

She may have had good senses of smell and such before, being a feline of course, but now it was as if she was sent to a completely new world with different sights and sounds that wouldn't stop astounding her. She marveled and wondered if this was what vampires always saw the world as; so vibrant, so intriguing, so full of life. She had never seen the night like this before; it had always been so dark, dreary and desolate compared to the kingdom under the sun. And yet…she was like a kitten with a ball of yarn as she wondered, in awe, of how her new life would be like. It made her feel like a little kid still exploring the world, something that sometimes irritated her hedgehog companion.

She mentally scowled, her mind going over the last few days with her guide. He had been a bit of a bloody prick. When they walked around, she would try to ask him questions about his life, not only as a vampire, but before that. And, depending on his mood, he would do several different things, none of which included answering her directly.

One: He would remain silent, and she would eventually abandon her attempts at conversation.

Two: He would give her some snide remark that made her blood boil and caused her to fall silent as she fumed.

Or…

Three: He would give her the vaguest answer possible and avoid any other questions by inquiring about herself.

Now, that last one was something she was slightly satisfied with. At least he was trying to be social. She told him as much as she was comfortable with; any areas pertaining to her life with her family and her owner were evaded with graceful words and phrases that clearly stated I don't want to talk about it. And he seemed smart enough to understand that, for he ceased any further attempts to delve into the subject, and she had to be appreciative of that. She just wished he would stop being an asshole during the rest of the time they spent together.

"Bloody prick…" She muttered under her breath as she closed her eyes and sighed again, wondering if she could go back to sleep without dreaming.

His POV

He would have laughed at her statement if he wasn't trying to look like he was asleep. He would have thought that, with her newly acquired senses, that she would have heard how his breathing was quicker than when he was sleeping. Obviously, she wasn't that skilled, and so he was thankful. He could take the opportunity to study her; her scent, her voice, and the sensations she unknowingly emitted. He could basically read her thoughts, to put it one way. At the moment, she was a bit irked, and he could guess who it was towards.

Prick? Bloody prick? 'Is that a pun?'Giving a discreet smirk, he opened an eye enough so that he could see her with her knees up to her chest and her head bowed so she couldn't see him watching her. She was deep in thought, so she didn't notice when he shifted to get a bit more comfortable. He then proceeded to open his other eye so that he could look at her better, his curiosity for the feline growing every passing day and night he spent with her.

First off, she wasn't what he expected her to be; she had been a slave since her childhood, and yet she was as, or more, talkative and annoying than anyone he had ever met. Since she wouldn't say anything more of her family and such, he didn't bother trying to extract the information and left the subject be, for now. Instead, he had spent his time listening to her talk of her likes and dislikes, favorite activities, preferred genre of music, and her views on several subjects. He dwelled on such occasions where he actually followed along with her, finding her words intelligent despite his earlier beliefs.

(Flashback)

"I mean, females aren't weaker than males!" She crossed her arms as they walked on the forgotten dirt road, them being the only travelers using it at this time of night. That was why they were taking it, slowly making their progress down the road side-by-side.

"Really?" He did try to egg her on, and a smirk appeared briefly on his face seeing his success. He watched in satisfaction as her eyes narrowed at him and her voice turned strangely calm. "Yes, really."

"And why do you say that?"

"First of all," she held up one finger as if to emphasize the fact that that was only the first reason, "if we weren't around to keep you men in order, all hell would break loose and you would all somehow kill yourselves."

"But that's negotiation, not strength."

"Not all strengths are physical." She said it so firmly that he actually turned his head to stare at her with one eyebrow quirked. She just stared back at him, all the seriousness in the world showing on her face. She explained, "If someone is the 'strongman' but is dumber than rocks, they won't have an advantage over anyone. At the same time, you can be the brightest nerd in the world and you can't do a thing 'cause you're pathetic. You have to have intellect, as well as power."

As she let those words sink in, he asked her, "And what does that have to do with anything?"

"Because, you men seem to always be 'brawn over brains'!" The bigot mind against males came back to the feline as she continued her explanation on her side of the sexist debate. "You're always running around, puffing out your chest and yelling at the top of your lungs like some crazed roosters or whatever, and us woman have to clean up after you!" She continued to vent for a while, saying every comment known to man and maybe a few known to Mother Nature herself about how bad the male species was. The entire time, Shadow just stared at her with a fixed gaze, never saying a word as she ranted on and on about the faults of men. When she was finally done, a silence fell between them, and grew until it became uncomfortable and made her glance at him again. He ignored her, instead deciding to gaze upon the moon.

It was a waning crescent; the hook-like shape of its nature was like a sickle in the sky, ready to reap the many crops of stars that twinkled in the night. He watched the clouds partially cover it, putting the lands below into semi-darkness for a few minutes and reducing his glowing blood eyes to a small flicker in the night. He saw her shiver in his peripheral vision, and he smirked to himself before turning to her.

"Not all men are the same, you know."

He watched as she blinked slowly, as if she hadn't mentally been with him until he had said something. She looked at him in confusion and said all intelligently, "Huh?" He smirked again, showing off his fangs to her as the moon came back out of its hiding place to reflect off of the pearly whites. She twitched slightly at the sight, but otherwise she was expecting an answer from him. And so, he gave it to her. "You can't expect all men to act the same." He smirked at some thought, his gaze trailing to the path before them. "Otherwise, they'll surprise you."

"They already have…" He glanced at her curiously, but her eyes were on her feet, effectively avoiding his as the silence returned, a bit more awkward than the last. Her words still hung in the air, confusing him to no end as he pondered them quietly. 'What does she mean by that?' He wondered, watching as she walked beside him. 'Does she mean me? Or…does she mean her owner?'

(End Flashback)

He was still puzzled, even as the feline sat before him quietly, for once. It was peculiar to hear her quiet, even though it was only because she thought he was asleep, and he wondered how she could have survived being a slave with such a big mouth. Of course, considering the scars on her back, it was also surprising that she didn't kill herself beforehand. He could also see some scratches on her arm and legs that didn't look quite like they were caused naturally. 'He was a cruel owner, indeed…'

"You can stop staring at me now."

He blinked once, only showing his confusion for a moment, before he returned to his normal façade and just gave a wry smirk. "You're getting the hang of it."

Her POV

She looked up to glare at her companion as he shifted. He moved from his position to an even more relaxed one, with his arms crossed over his chest and both legs stretched before him, his back against the wall. He glanced over her as casually as he could muster, although she could feel his curiosity. He was right, she was getting better; his movements were a bit more obvious, and she could actually sense the thought behind that indifferent mask. She grinned slightly at her accomplishment, but then it disappeared as she thought of how long he could have been awake previously. Immediately sobered, she huffed and looked away, resorting to glaring at a wall to unleash her frustration.

"It takes time," he answered her anger with advice that she really didn't want to hear. She grunted, not bothering to glance over at him, but her ear twitched when he sighed and ceased further conversation. Satisfied, she returned her attention to the wall in an attempt to avoid her thoughts. She could hear the warning of an oncoming storm, before little patters on the window signaled it had started raining. Thank God they had found good shelter.

'That crack crawls up the wall like a lightning bolt,' she noted absentmindedly, 'it reminds me of those huge lightning storms back at that village.' She didn't dare say home, because then she wouldn't know where she was talking about; she had no home. 'Those huge storms were always calming, as long as you're inside; just listen to the rain pouring down upon the roof. Drip, drip, drip, like teardrops from heaven that are on pilgrimage to the earth.' The corners of her mouth twitched slightly at the poetic insight she had, and she wondered, 'Maybe I should write a book. Yeah, sure,' she rolled her eyes. 'I should write a novel about my life and let thousands and thousands of people read it and laugh. No,' she shook her head. 'That's something for people who get by on that kind of stuff. I'm not one for social acceptance.' She gave a small, dry laugh at the thought. 'Like they would; they would probably be disgusted with me, a vampire. Just like father…'

Her gaze hardened slightly at the thought, and she tried desperately to go back to the crack in the wall. But her father already had an iron grip on her thoughts, and he wasn't going to leave soon. Damn emotions. She gave a small sigh, giving up her futile efforts, and just listened to her and her companion's breathing.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in…

Breathe out…

Breathe…in…

She sighed again and lowered her gaze to the floor. 'Why does it still hurt? After all of these years? It's been ages since…' She stopped herself from thinking it, refusing to say it even to herself. She shook her head gently to try to shake away her past, but it didn't work. Getting a bit frustrated with her damned emotions, she twitched her ear in annoyance and looked up at the dark curtains that stood between her and the daytime. They were velvety and looked fit to guard a king from the sun, and their dark royal purple did the job intended. Only a faint glow could alert them that the day still went on without them, rain or no rain.

It wouldn't be good to have a breakdown here, she kept telling herself. She had promised that she would not cry.

'Then again,' she grimaced, remembering the night she had left that house, 'that can't exactly be avoided now.' She felt ashamed that she had been broken so easily with just a few, simple words. "I'm too tired to do anything tonight, but tomorrow…" She shivered at the thought of those words, which only made her feel even poorer. The fact that the vampire, Shadow, had been the sole witness of the event made it all the worse. To think that she had begged a complete stranger, one that was going to kill her, and ultimately acted like a baby dug the pit of shame deeper into her soul.

Smooth, idiot.

'I feel so helpless,' she thought to herself as her heart clenched in sorrow, and she kept her eyes closed so as to not meet the vampire'sgaze. 'Why can't I ever protect myself?'

His POV

He watched her aura closely, examining the way it flashed with many different colors, showing him her emotions. Although she was inexperienced in concealing such thoughts, he had only just met her, and so he had to adjust to her like one did with the climate. Slowly, he was able to make out pain in the way her head hung, her hand slipping down to clutch her side as discreetly as possible. He could feel it, but he wasn't exactly sure what had caused it.

It couldn't be her wounds, for they had healed considerably fast and were rather well, and they hadn't been bothering her recently. He had noticed she had a bruised rib or two, but she had never complained about it. So, he focused on sorting out her feelings that tumbled and churned in her wake.

Something hovered over her, dark in nature. As if she felt that she was being watched by someone…undesirable. Slowly, he made out the colors. The color of the sea, blood, emeralds, and darkness… 'Hatred?'

He wondered briefly if it was directed towards him, but his recent experiences with her told him that if she had a problem with him, he would know. She would have been sure to tell him so. 'Then what is it? Feelings so negative…guilt?' He shook his head. 'No, not guilt; shame. Disappointment. Sadness.' He watched as she sighed wistfully, and he frowned and wondered what she was thinking of. To sigh like that, with such hurt and remorse… 'What troubles her?'

"Where does the rain come from?"

The question was so sudden, and odd, that it left Shadow with no words to say. His mouth was shut tightly in surprise, but he only let that stop him for a moment. Then, he answered her question with one of his own. "What are you talking about?" Her words didn't make sense to him. "It comes down from the clouds." He looked at her skeptically. "Surely you realize how stupid that sounds."

He expected her to snap at him, telling him once again to bite her, but instead she turned her head to stare at his face. Her eyes were duller, like a belt buckle that had lost its shine, and her mouth looked as if it was set in stone with a small frown that showed she was displeased by his answer. She repeated her words quietly, "Where does the rain come from?" Whatever it was she was asking from him, he wouldn't learn it from her.

He sat there, wondering for a while of how he should answer her:

One: Repeat the answer until it drills into that thick skull!

Or Two: Try to figure it out her way.

Finally, after a long silence fell between them, he sighed in defeat and reluctantly asked her, "Where do you think it comes from?"

This seemed to please her, for a small flicker of triumph lived in her aura; a flash of sunlight that didn't burn him brightened her eyes momentarily, before they returned to their dull, lackluster appearance, her aura filled with blues and reds. Something dark still weighed on her shoulders, making them slump slightly as he awaited her answer.

"Do you think," she began, but she stopped to inhale sharply and wince with pain, her aura flickering with several colors like blue and black – regret, grief, and shame. He let her catch her breath for a few moments, positive that this was another one of those rare times that he wanted to actually listen to what came from her mouth. It was very few and far in-between for times that he had been so curious, and so it would only be natural to quench this curiosity before it became a nuisance. It was quiet except for their breathing, hers slightly ragged as she tried to regain her composure. She eventually got herself under control, with only a little pain leaking into her aura with a dark, sinister red trickle. She returned her attention to the hedgehog who had waited, cleared her throat, and continued.

"Do you think that, maybe, the rain comes from the angels?" She said it so seriously, it couldn't have been a joke. He frowned at the question, though, contemplating where she had gotten such a notion. He asked her doubtfully, "The angels?" As pretty as it sounded, it was highly unlikely.

She nodded, firmly staring at him as she went on, "Whenever it rains, is it because the archangels watching us in Heaven see the Earth below them and cry?" She paused for a moment, as if wanting to see his reaction before she carried on. She received none. "Do they see all of the torture and lies, the hate and deception, and feel pity and sorrow towards us, and the rain is a sign of it?" She lowered her head slightly, her eyes leaving his as she looked at the floor before her. "Do our ancestors look at us and wonder how the world has changed us so? Do our parents watch us from among the stars, and weep?"

Finally, he realized what she was implying. He looked away from her as he thought, not saying a word. She had never talked about both of her parents whenever she had talked about her family. It was always about her father; her father did this, her father killed that, her father hated everything, her father loved nothing. Nothing about her mother. He had assumed that something had happened to her, and so he didn't press the subject. That was probably who she was referring to. After all, it couldn't possibly be her father; she had suspected he had died long ago, for she recalled hearing news of several houses in the village near her old house burning down with no survivors left, and there would be no way that he would be caring towards his daughter, let alone up in Heaven. If there really was such a place.

He decided to approach the subject directly this time. "So, what you are saying," he started, "is that the angels above us feel sorry for us and hope that their tears will wash our pain away." Hey, not exactly the same, but more poetic. He watched her aura carefully, sensing her contemplation and consideration. It seemed that he had chosen the right words, for after a while, she nodded to show she approved and answered him with a short, "Yes."

Great, now she's being blunt. He nearly rolled his eyes at the way she acted just like he had earlier, but he knew that would be taken the wrong way by her. Instead, he continued to stare at her for a while, letting his eyes travel along her aura and, maybe, her body. She still wore the ragged clothes from her owner, for he had forgotten that she would need anything else, but from what he had heard that was all she had, anyway. Her right sleeve seemed to be completely ripped up, tatters of what used to be fairly sturdy material. Whatever injury had resulted in that was gone, leaving her fairly night-shaded fur unblemished until a little under her elbow, where there were several rope burns and scars. Her pants were also a bit torn, with a fist-sized hole on one of the knees while the other held only a slash.

What the hell did sheharvest with?

Shaking his head slightly, he watched her aura turn a bit pink with what he thought was embarrassment as he realized he had, indeed, been staring. 'Bloody hell…' He scolded himself for lingering on the clothing around her hips as he told the feline, "We need to get you new clothes; you can't go running around in that." Silently to himself, he added, 'It's indecent, and it doesn't have much protection from the wind. She would freeze to death in the wintertime.'

She scoffed at him and crossed her arms, clearly annoyed. "Well, sorry, but I was forced to wear this! And it's not like I have any money to buy anything else with, anyways!" She gave him a small 'hmph' of indignation and looked away, grumbling to herself, "Stupid hedgehog, with his roaming eyes and Mr. Obvious moments…" She continued to gripe as he shook his head and gave a sigh. Why had he done this again? Oh, yeah. 'Can't leave the poor girl here – she has nothing left now.' Nice going, idiot. Now look at what you've gotten yourself into! You've gained a ward!

"It's not like I was telling you to go out and buy it."

Her POV

She stopped her dark plotting she had begun under her breath ("…take a lobster and hide it under his pillow or something…") when he said that. She looked at him, surprise showing on both her face and aura. "Wha?" She blinked, her eyes wide with confusion as she stared at him. 'What did he just say? I must have not heard him correctly…'

"I'm not telling you to go out and buy it."

'Uh, no. I was hearing him right.' She frowned, the easiest gesture to put across her face in this situation. "What do you mean, 'not me'? Who's going to buy it, then?" She suddenly bristled and asked him accusingly, "We're not going to steal anything, are we?"

Shadow narrowed his eyes at her claim and replied coolly, "No. I do not steal."

"Other than blood…" She muttered, not really expecting him to hear. But, he did have super senses, after all, as he showed when his aura flashed a bit red and his eyes glared at her. She ignored the signs of his anger, instead thinking to herself, until he spoke up. "You shouldn't make such remarks unless you are dishonest to yourself, feline." That comment seemed to have angered him. "Or did you forget that night?"

She looked away from him, not wanting to look at his angry blood-red orbs. In here, away from the public's eye, he could reveal his true identity. He could snarl at her with his fangs, or whisper an animalistic hiss towards her, or glare at her with his intense eyes. He only chose the latter, but that was enough to make her fall silent. Cinnamon washed over her in a wave, and she couldn't help but inhale it as it wrapped around her. Her own coconut was overwhelmed in the assault of scents, and all she could sense was the hedgehog and his harsh anger towards her. She had said the wrong thing.

"I did not." She lowered her head, remembering how she had pleaded Shadow for help. She had groveled before him, and this was what he had gotten in return. A hot-tempered, annoying, stubborn feline who probably got on his nerves on a daily – err, nightly – basis. This was what kindness had brought him from the world that wished to end his existence, and she had just spat in his face.

A strange pang in her heart came to her, and she covered it with her hand and closed her eyes. She had felt that same feeling back then, when her mother had been on her deathbed – regret, guilt. She had been unable to do anything to help her mother; she could only sit and watch as she shriveled up before her eyes, and her little teary amber orbs had witnessed the cremation ceremony after her soul departed.

She had let her die.

Shaking her head from the thought, she opened her eyes and looked up to find Shadow's eyes on her again. Damn, talk about ogling. 'What is he staring at?' She was going to say something along the lines of stop staring at me, lecher but that might not have gone so well. She doubted he would have let that insult go by. Besides, the new guilt growing in her chest wouldn't let her clutch her skin any tighter without tearing it to ribbons, and so she gave a sigh and turned to face him fully. Eyeing him closely so she could witness his reaction, she asked him calmly, "What will we do, then?"

He seemed to consider her for a moment, staring at her as if to read her thoughts. Although she had an aura, she doubted he could actually tell what she was thinking. Emotions and thoughts were two different things, even though they twisted together like Fate and Time. At least, she hoped not. It wouldn't be good to have him know how nervous she actually was and that she felt guilty. Oh, so now you want to feel sorry? She just hoped he wouldn't ignore her and refuse to talk for the rest of the night. After all, she had gotten progress by asking him questions. It would suck if she'd just taken five steps backwards from where she started.

Then, Shadow shifted a little as if he had started getting uncomfortable, and he answered, "Dusk isn't for another few hours. Go to sleep, and we'll see what the night brings us." He then moved so his leg was once again up while his other laid straight, his hand lying on the bent knee as he returned to his earlier position. He got comfy and closed his eyes, as if to go to sleep.

Shadowpaw stared at him for a moment more, unsure of where she stood after this. He had seemed strangely calm, yet irritated, after all of her insults, and it was a bit unsettling to see no anger in his aura any longer. Even the scent of cinnamon had all but disappeared. 'Maybe he's masking it so I can't tell how angry he really is.' After all, it wouldn't be good to show any weaknesses, even to her. Who knows that she wouldn't turn on him as soon as look at him? He was being cautious. That's it. Caution.

It didn't even come to her mind that he wasn't actually angry. She didn't even think of the possibility that maybe he had been offering to get her clothes. There was no way Shadow would do anything like that…

Right?

After she took his advice and laid back down to go to sleep, she realized something. She had just called the hedgehog by his name several times in her mind, and she hadn't even noticed that she hadn't stressed the word vampire for a while now. In fact, she was referring to him as if he was a regular mortal creature.

Was that bite affecting her more than just a simple vampire-transformation?