I would like to say something before you read this story. Please read it with an open mind. It does somewhat go against popular belief and I'm sorry if it somehow offends some of you, but again, it is just a story and a fictionous one. It does not necessarily reflect my beliefs. Again, I apologize in advance if anyone is offended. Please, enjoy!

Chapter One

I have always wondered what made people crazy. I've always wondered makes some of them act the way they do. For years I had probed the question and the possible answers, and it eventually came to me. I realized that people hide their deepest secrets in the darkest chambers of their minds. I learned that they push the things that they want to forget to the back of their memories for the sake of escaping the torture from them. And I realized that it is reality that pulls those dark things into the light. Its reality that people fear. These realizations sparked a desire in me to know more, and so I studied them. The things I uncovered confused even me.

To a point, people lock themselves away. They create a world for themselves in which they hide. A world in which they can truly believe that nothing is wrong; in which they can have anything they want, anything they dream of. Its only when they collide with reality when they are forced to leave their world and enter the real one. They are reminded that there is a truth out there. A truth that can be more horrible than the worst nightmare.

If I could create a world for myself, I would. If I could be like them and lock myself away, I would in a heartbeat. But I am different than most people. I couldn't hide. It was a curse. I was plagued with reality as if it were a virus. I knew about things that other people would never see, however. My reality was ten times worse than theirs. I knew that there were things in the world that most people couldn't stand to know. I knew that those things were made to be invisible to their eyes, and I also knew that it was better that way. The things I knew would make the Earth stand still in horror. Yet, it was my job to keep those things invisible, and to make sure that the reality that people already knew didn't get any worse. And though people knew about limits in their lives, I knew that anything could happen if the gates between these two realities was opened. It was my job to keep it closed.

I had been born into this hidden world, so I was used to it. I had grown up with it. It was simply apart of my life, and this fact I could not change. This was only one of the reasons that I was different. The others were things that I lacked which were also things that made a person human. I could not feel, I could not breathe the air, and my heart did not beat. For those reasons, I would never be accepted into their world, so I stayed solitary. I was condemned to a life of loneliness, but I accepted it. For the many years I had walked this earth, I had been completely dependant on myself and only myself. I needed no one else.

To an outsider looking in, my life was difficult to explain, and so I avoided anyone who might want to know about it. People could ask questions about me, and they could analyze my purpose in the world, but the fact of the matter was, I was different. I had always been, and I would forever be. I wasn't human. I wasn't blessed with a human's life. I was apart of a completely different species, and a completely different race. Sure, I looked human, but how much does the exterior really matter? How much do you really know someone by simply looking at them? Not enough to know what makes them who they are. No one knew who I was. No one.

Of course, there was always that constant reminder that there were others out there; others like me. Those that were also damned to live this invisible life. But no matter how much I wanted to believe it, I really wasn't like them either. They would never really accept me because they had been permeated with evil. There had been a time when they were good, but when the Force spilled over into the mists of our race, they were completely changed. And It had spared me. No, I had escaped, though I still couldn't consider myself lucky. To know that I would never die, that I would spend the life of the Earth walking in the darkened streets, I felt as though I was far from lucky. And far from safe.

Yes, I had escaped from the Force's wave of corruption over my kind, but in return, I had been punished. Cursed. I could not sleep. I had to live forever in a period of complete unrest; and I could not smile. I would no longer be able to know what happiness was like, and I would never again be only steps away from bliss.

Though in this sleepless life, I had found an escape. For years now I had committed myself to helping those in need of help, human or not. I would pull them out of harm's way and simply disappear, never to interrupt their lives again. Maybe some of them remembered me, maybe they didn't. Either way, I wouldn't stop. I couldn't. I needed a hobby.

When these curses were placed upon me, I was 21 years old, and so my life had practically stopped at that age. The Force had condemned me to an endless life thus I would never age again. And then, just when I thought I had been punished enough, there was another catch; I would never be remembered. Maybe my face would be, but my name would never be spoken by anyone I ever encountered. I was the only one that knew myself as something other than a mere figment of someone's imagination.

The only ones that knew me were the people of my own race, and they knew me well. I made sure that they spoke my name with a tone of fear; a tone of dread. It was my justice in a life of injustice.

My name is Christian, and any other vampire that I came across knew it, without a second thought in their minds. My influence upon this race had earned me nicknames such as the Fire Starter, the Night Wolf, and the Walker.

They hated me; all of them. My own brothers had a hatred for me that was thicker than blood, but only because they had been Forced to change. And they hated me because of the vow I had made; because of the promise I had made myself. I had given myself a purpose against the wishes of the Evil, and that purpose was to force It out of their lives. To make my race pure again, just as they had been put on the earth to be. And to break the chains of the curses that bound me.

Chapter Two

I walked slowly down the city streets, cloaked in the darkness of the autumn night. It was almost completely deserted, the city. But up in my apartment I had begun to feel compressed. I felt like I needed to be out tonight anyway. Things often tugged at me; they called me out into the night. As if my subconscious could hear the cries for help. Though I could never pinpoint what exactly my instincts reacted to, I knew they were never wrong.

My steps were slow this night, and my eyes were down. There was a strong biting cold wind that blew suddenly every now and then, sending my jacket whipping behind me as a flag in a violent storm.

I shook my head at myself. I knew perfectly well that I couldn't really feel the wind against my skin. If I had no common sense, I would never know if it was cold or not. My imagination often ran away with me, but I never tried to stop it. My body and being were shackled; my thoughts and soul were all I had left.

My pace slowed even more as I approached one of the many clubs that dotted Long Beach, California. I stopped and stared into the building. Inside was like a totally different world. Yet another escape these humans had established.

I shrugged and decided to evade my boredom for a while. I rarely ever intervened in the human's world, but tonight, everything about me ached for company, no matter how fake it may be.

"Sir, I don't think your name is on my guest list here," the bouncer stopped me at the doors, indicating a clipboard he held in his hands.

"No?"

"No," he answered coolly.

I simply nodded and glanced down at the clipboard, "Christian. Check your guest list again."

He sighed as if he really didn't want to be bothered by the likes of me, but he scanned the list anyway, "You don't have a last name?"

"They don't need my last name."

"I see," he replied a bit sarcastically, but then recoiled, "Oh...well, here you are. I'm, um, I'm sorry, sir. Come on in."

I nodded as he unclipped the velvet rope guarding the doors, "Thank you."

"Yes, sir. Have a great night."

I ignored his request and went into the howling club. I tried not to use my powers for any occasion other than an emergency, but I wanted to be with people, and a club was the place to find them; at least in Long Beach.

I cleaved through the thick crowds easily and went straight to the bar, sitting down.

The bartender gave me a warm smile, "Anything for ya?"

"Scotch. No, make it a gin and coke."

"Gin and coke it is."

I turned and stared into the clouds of people, and as I watched them dance, I reminded myself of their truths. Here, they were all different people. They were all hiding behind a wall of personality. I knew how humans worked. The minute they stepped out of this place, they would fall back into the life they dreaded, once again creating that personal world; that hiding place to tuck themselves away in.

My thoughts were interrupted when the bartender slid the glass of gin in front of me, "Gin and coke."

"Thanks."

"No problem," he paused but soon continued, "You look like you've had a rough night."

"My night hasn't even started yet."

He laughed, even though I didn't mean it to be a joke, "I know what you mean."

"Do you?" I whispered, never looking at him. I truly just wanted him to leave me alone.

"Yeah, I do. Stayin' in all day, goin' out all night. It can get tirin', huh?"

I finally looked up at him. He was making himself seem as though he knew about me; as if he knew what I was all about. I found it somewhat humorous, "Yeah."

I reached in my pocket for my wallet when he stopped me, "Its on me."

Again, I glanced at him, a suspicion rising inside me, "Thanks."

"My pleasure."

I simply nodded, and stood, sliding a two dollar tip on the counter. Then, as silently as I had come in, I left. The atmosphere had helped settle my restlessness a little, but I still felt as though there was something that was about to happen, and so I could not totally relax. Not that I had ever been able to relax; it was really all in my mind.

I slid my hands into my coat pockets and turned down the alley next to the club. I stopped and leaned back against the brick wall, allowing the pitch blackness to pull me in. I pulled a cigarette out of my pocket and lit it, putting it to my lips. It was half an hour before the side door of the club opened, shedding an unwanted light into the alley. I recognized the bartender, and at the same moment, he recognized me.

I said nothing, giving him the opportunity to speak first.

"You waited?" He asked, a bit more serious now.

I nodded, taking a slow drag on my cigarette, "You know why."

He watched the smoke from my lips rise into the air, becoming part of the darkness, "Yeah, I know why."

"Care to explain?"

"I'm human," he quickly got to the point, "I just know things."

"Things...what things?"

"I know about you. I mean, I know what you are--"

"How?"

"I was born this way."

"But you're human?"

"I am."

I raised an eyebrow, finishing off the cigarette and tossing it to the concrete. My eyes fixed on the dying embers, "Others?"

"Yeah, there are others."

"Born with what abilities?"

"The ability to see things. Visions. Sometimes visions of the future. There aren't many out there, but there are some."

"What do you see?"

"The truth."

His words quickly ended the conversation.

Both of us stood in silence. I didn't know what was going on inside his mind, but maybe he knew what was going on in mine. If he did, he would have known that I was thinking that he could be of use to me.

Quietly, he looked up at me in all seriousness, "You need to get over to Sunset and 5th."

"What--"

"Now."

There was a silent urgency that was passed between us, and suddenly I darted out into the street, heading for Sunset Boulevard. Sure enough, as I reached the Boulevard and 5th street, I felt a pull on my soul. Something was wrong here. Everything about me, and everything about this place, even down to the stillness in the air, told me that something was wrong.

I stopped in my tracks, the wind sending a sudden blast over me. My eyes searched the darkened streets for any sign of trouble. With the wind beginning to die down, the world once more became still. I gave my soul out, allowing it to be pulled by that force that told me when there was trouble. That feeling was all too familiar now. And again a sudden wind howled through the streets, but this time, it brought with it, a scream.

The instant the scream found my ears, I broke into a run. I had already pinpointed the exact location, all that was crucial now, was getting there. In no time, I found the alley where two men cornered a girl, at least 20 in age. She was terrified. Tears were streaming down her red face as she crouched against a brick wall. Her whole body shook in fear. I felt a rumble of anger deep inside me, overtaking my whole being.

One of the men took a step toward her and grabbed the back of her already torn shirt. Again, she screamed and tried to fight against him but to no avail. He shoved her hard against the brick wall and laughed menacingly.

"Let her go," I shouted, my voice rumbling with rage.

Slowly, the two men turned to face me.

"You gonna make us?" One of them spoke.

"I will if I have to."

He laughed and came toward me, flipping a switchblade out into the open, "Oh, really? A pretty boy like you? But you wouldn't want to get blood on the gorgeous face of yours, would ya?"

His sarcasm made me cringe but, like always, I held my ground in silence.

"What's the matter?" He grinned in the darkness, waving his knife back and forth in front of me, "Not as tough as you think you are? Gonna go run for the cops now?"

"What were you planning on doing to her?" I asked, no specific emotion in my voice.

He laughed bitterly, "What do you think? She's a fox, ain't she?"

At his words, I felt a burst of anger deep in the pit of my stomach. If there was anything that I hated, it was how humans could torture each other in this way. It ate at me.

I gradually felt my face get hotter and the intensity in my eyes strengthen.

The man's eyes widened at mine, and slowly he began to back away.

His partner glared at him, "What are you doing, man? What's wrong with you? You can take him."

"His...his eyes...they..." the other one stuttered and kept backing away.

When his comrade looked up at me, I sensed a wave of uncertainty and fear sweep over him, "Oh my..."

"I will give you until the count of 3 to get out of my sight," I growled, the anger still fresh inside me, "One..."

I never even had to count to 2; they were out of the alley in record time.

At the sight of the young girl, still crouched and shaking against the brick wall, my eyes softened and lost their orange hue. Slowly and cautiously I stepped toward her, until I finally knelt in front of her. I reached out and gingerly touched her shoulder, but she jerked away.

"I won't hurt you," I whispered, making my voice as comforting as I could, "Don't worry."

Several frightened whimpers came from her throat as she shrank even more against the wall. She never looked up at me. I could sense a fear in her beyond explanation.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I repeated, "I'm here to help."

"Maybe you should give her time."

The voice made me turn to face the bartender from the club who stood silhouetted at the mouth of the alley.

Slowly, I turned back to face her as the bartender found his place next to me, "I can't leave her here."

"Then don't," he replied, looking softly at her, "Stay with her."