Ladies and Gentlemen, I am proud to unveil my newest work of literature! This will be a much more mature story than my previous one, so please, do not attack me if you are offended by anything. Given the success (in my opinion) of my previous story, I am hopeful that this one will recieve a warm welcome as well. I look forward to your reviews, please let me know of any suggestions or opinions you have. If you ask a serious question in your review, I will almost certainly get back to you with an answer. I am hoping to have chapters done and posted fairly frequently, but please understand that I am in college, so sometimes things pile up. For the first chapter, I want to give a shout out to Booklover1598, for writing her wondeful story "Elizabeth Guinavere Swan", and also TheHunter9, for her spectacular "The Pet". I will shut up now and let you read, I just had to give a nice opening XP Enjoy!

Chapter 1:

Drowning in Fire/Burning in Water

I'm disconnected
I'm uninspired
I'm burning in water
I'm drowning in fire

***Nathan's POV***

I walk nervously to the backyard of the house. The sound of music and laughter ring through the night, and lights flash across the scene. I'm not one for parties, but it's my last year of high-school, so what the hell? I can put up with a crowd of preppy bitches and self-centered man-whores for a few hours right?

I weave my way through the party, looking for anyone I know. Well, I knew most of these asswipes, I just didn't like most of them.

Finally I spot some friends of mine over on the edge of the yard. They were like me, they kept to themselves.

"Nathan, dude, youre finally here!"

It's Thomas, a kind of nerdy guy from one of my algebra classes a few semesters ago. For some reason, we had gotten along, and had stayed in touch even after the class was finished.

"Yeah, I couldn't let you fuckers get all the bitches tonight now could I?" I reply.

"Damn right, man, Zach already left with Sarah, they've been in the storage shed over there for a good half hour already."

I laugh. Zach Seymore had been the first out of their little group to get laid, and he hadnt really stopped since.

"So, Zach already got him some, what are you guys up to?"

"Nothing at all, Nate, Nothing at all," rings a high, squeeky voice.

It's Miguel, the guy that had helped me make a passing grade in Spanish I and II. He's taking breaths from one of the helium balloons scattered around the place as decoration.

We all break out laughing as he begins a rendition of one of the Alvin and the Chipmunks songs.

Thomas grabs the balloon from him and takes a big breath himself.

"Luke, I am your father."

The line loses every bit of its epicness coming from Thomas's high voice.

"Oh my God, Nate, you gotta try this," he sighs through his laughter.

I take the balloon from him and inhale deeply.

"English, motherfucker, do you speak it?" I quote the badass Samuel L. Jackson line, causing everyone to double over with renewed amusement.

Once I have control again, I take another breath of the gas and prepare for my next line.

HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK.

There's a blinding burst of fire in my face and then I'm choking, unable to breathe. I cough, flames sputtering from my throat. In front of me is Drake, one of my old bullies from the earlier years of high schools, holding a lighter and staring with a look of horror in his eye.

Dumb fuck tried to pop a balloon with a lighter?!

Soon the initial shock fades and Thomas, Miguel, and Drake sprint off, yelling franticly for help.

I desperately claw at my neck, the flames killing me from the inside out as my lungs burned.

The rest of the people at the party notice me, coughing flames out into the grass, and screams ring out through the night air.

I was on the ground now, clutching my chest. My vision begins to blur and fade. Someone lifts me. Either I had already lost it, or I was being carried at a ridiculously fast pace. The ground blurs past and the chaos of the partygoers dies down to a distant shriek. I'm dropped on the cold grass and something sharp pierces my neck.

I hope to high hell that it's a needle from a paramedic or something.

Had it been long enough for an ambulance to arrive?

A different form of fire floods my veins. The figure standing over me fades as my vision flickers to black. I could feel myself slipping away, but I didn't care anymore. Anything was better than this. I welcomed the sweet release from the tormenting flames, both in my lungs and veins.

Light.

Light floods in as my eyes slowly ease open.

Something was different. Better. Had it all just been some sort of horrible nightmare?

I sit up and examine my surroundings. I'm in a forest, with no idea how I got here. I slowly reach up to my throat. It burns, but this is different. It's no longer heat, but… thirst. Unbelievable thirst.

I stand up. There is a town in the distance. My town?

I wasn't sure.

I run toward it, then stop within seconds. I was already here. I look back at the field I had apparently just run across almost instantly.

"Young man, are you lost?" I turn around to find a middle-aged woman and-

Dear God, what was that glorious smell?

I lean into it as the scent pulls me in. A cry of pain sounds somewhere far, far away as the scent turns into a taste, like butter and spice, easing the burning in my throat. I embrace the buzz of delight, following more and more scents and tastes, a continuous onslought of sweet nectar rushing down my throat.

Was it seconds? Hours? Days?

I'm disoriented when the rush of relief finally fades away.

As my senses clear, I can smell the stench of death. Red fills my vision.

I panic as I become aware that I was standing in the middle of a park, the grass around me bathed in crimson, mangled bodies of every age and gender lying around me.

No…

No, I couldn't have…

I run. I didn't care where, I simply sprint in any direction, the world blurring past me.

What had I become?

***Two weeks later, Jessica Taylor's POV***

I adjust my sapphire dress for the who-knows-how-many-nth time tonight. It's both a gift and a curse to have the perfect set.

Mostly a gift.

I idly wander around the darkened gym that's been done up as if it was somewhere anyone would want to have a party.

Ugh, it's a shittily-done job.

I go to get a flimsy plastic red cup full of room-temperature punch, which we all know is Kool-Aid from a packet.

Warm, toned arms wrap around me from behind.

"I made it special for you babe."

"John, what the fuck did you do?"

John is my caveman of a boyfriend. He's dropdead hot, and always wears T-shirts that have to be at least two sizes too small for him. His ripped torso was his pride and joy, and he displayed it as such, the outlines of his abs clearly visible through the thinly stretched fabric.

"Nothing darlin', just had some friends bring some real drinks to mix in."

I rub the bruises on my shoulder from the last time John had real drinks.

I am not going to stick around if he and his friends are gonna be a bunch of drunken fools.

"Sounds… fun. Unfortuantely I have to leave in a bit," I lie through my teeth.

"Oh, come on baby, you have to stick around for the afterparty," he pleads almost innocently, a small hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

"Afterparty?" I ask. There was never any afterparty mentioned in the schedule.

"Yeah, my buddies and I wanted you to join us out by the lake."

There was a gleam in his eye as he spoke that made me uneasy.

"Who else is going?"

"No one really, it's just a small thing for the five of us. You, me, Philip, Will, and James."

"Sorry, I have things to do in the morning and it's already late," I continue to lie, starting to walk past him to the exit.

He is seriously giving me the creeps now.

He smiles as I brush past him, his eyes remaining fixed on me. I look back as I near the exit. He is still standing there, his eyes pinned to my… my ass.

Fucking pervert.

The school doors slam shut behind me as I walk out, my uncomfortable heels clicking against the sidewalk as I walk towards home.

Quickly.

I contiue taking paranoid glances around the dark, street lamps casting their ominous, isolated patches of light across the concrete path in front of me.

Bright light shines from behind me. A rusty, pale blue van growls as it drives up the road before coming to a stop beside me.

"Come on baby, we are going to that afterparty now," John shouts at me through the side door as it slides open.

"I already told you I'm not going, John," I reply, aggrevated by his persistence.

Why cant men take a fucking hint?

"It wasn't an invitation."

I try to scream as he hops out off the van and grabs me, but his hand clasps over my mouth, muffling my protests. The door slides shut behind us as he tosses me in the shitty van and we speed off.

"What the fuck are you doing John?!"

"We are going to have ourselves a party, you know that," the driver, Philip, replies for him.

"The hell we are! Let me out you son of a bitch!"

John backhands me across the face.

"Shut up! You might actually enjoy it if you relax a little."

My breathing becomes erratic as I clutch my already-bruising cheek, panic setting in.

I keep silent, except for my fearful sobs, until we skid to a stop after about ten minutes. The door slides open and I'm dragged out of the vehicle. The sound of crickets chirping and frogs croaking is all around us. It's pitch black, save for the ghostly glow of the van's headlights. Pine needles crunch under my feet as I'm shoved toward a small motorboat that lay in the foul-smelling mud at the edge of the murky water.

The four boys get the boat further into the water before climbing in, shoving me in with them, before they work the motor to life after a few tries.

I don't know what to say, what to do. Fuck, this can't be happening!

My thoughts go blank as I hear the worst sound that could possibly be made at that moment.

A zipper being undone.

My stomach tightens into a knot and fresh tears swell in my eyes.

"Please, don't-"

My words are cut short as I clamp my mouth tightly shut, smooth, rigid flesh attempting to force its way into my mouth. The boat rocks as someone kicks me, and I cry out in pain.

The other boy doesn't waste the moment. His warm, hard, member slips into my mouth and across my tongue, scraping against the back of my throat. I gag hard, my eyes watering.

I do the only thing I can think of and clamp my teeth down hard on the vile object.

The owner of it cries out in rage and the boat is tossed about violently as he brings his hand across my face.

"You bitch!"

I cant manage a response to his insult, sobs racking my body.

I yelp as my dress is ripped across the front, exposing my the left side of my bra-concealed breast.

Someone else joins in and I wriggle around as they try to reach up the bottom of my dress. My heel makes contact with someone's stomach as I thrash around desperately, one of their hands gripping my panties. A long, slender middle finger enters me and I scream.

God, no, please, someone has to hear me, someone will come help me.

I elbow one of them as I knee another. I'm flailing my limbs, trying to put up a fight until someone hears my desperate screams.

The boat rocks dangerously in the water as I resist their intrusion.

One of the boys staggers as my foot connects with his knee, and the boat tips over. People thrash about in the water, but I can barely hear them as my heartbeat fills my ears. The red-stained motor blade is turned off and the rapists yell at eachother in panic. Their arguments die down as I drift down into the water, the lake turned dark red around me as my neck spreads blood around me. Water seeps in through the gash in my throat and fills my lungs.

But I can't fight it anymore. I don't panic as my lungs fill with liquid.

I don't try to scream as my body grows cold from the blood escaping me.

I don't attmept to swim back to the surface as the lake begins to drag me to its dark depths.

I am serene. The peace of death is welcome after my struggle. No more will they try to have their way with me. I am lost to them forever.

My eyes remain open but still my vision begins to fade. My torn blue dress drifts lazily around me.

Something enters the water though. Not the disorganized paddling of her attackers, soemthing more focused.

Somewhere in the back of my darkening mind, a light flares into existence and wills me to hold on just a bit longer.

Something cold grabs me and my limp body is hauled to the surface. My back comes into contact with the freezing cold mud as the shadowy savior lays me down on the lakeside.

My eyelids flutter. The last burst of will begins to fade from me and I grow numb again.

Something pierces my neck. Soft lips cling to the incision, lingering. The figure tenses as the seconds tick by. I feel myself growing weaker still, the blood in my body rushing towards my neck.

My rescuer jumps back, rather violently.

Then I'm on fire.

Or my veins are at least. I blur in and out of awareness. It lasts for what seems an eternity. Time looses all meaning as I lose myself in the pain.

And then its over.

It just stops.

I slowly realize that my eyes are closed, and begin to pry them open. It's dark, though the dawn seems fast approaching. I hesitantly swallow only to find that my throat no longer has a gaping gash in it. I look around the rest of me. The bruises I had collected while being with… him… were gone. I still had more torn dress on (barely) but I was covered in a soft blanket. Peaking under the blanket, I realized my left breast was fully exposed, my bra ripped in half. I also became aware that I was no longer wearing any panties after the attack.

Gathering the blanket around myself, I stood up and looked around.

A breeze blew past me and then there was a guy standing in front of me.

"Finally you're awake. You were beginning to scare me. Does it always take two weeks?"

His voice was melodious yet had a strange gravelly undertone, as if it was two different people speaking at the same time.

He was pale, with black hair that fell to his chin, swooped to one side in a Beiber-esque fashion. He wore a grey hoodie that looked like it had seen better days, unzipped and left open to expose his uncovered chest, and baggy denim jeans, the fabric around both knees ripped open and frayed.

No shirt under the hoodie by the way.

Did I mention that?

But the main thing, that I glimpsed in flashes as he spoke, were his pearly white-

"Fangs…"

I didn't mean to say it out loud, but it slipped out in my shock.

Then I was silent again, this time stunned by my own voice.

It was like a song played on a violin, or a cat's affectionate purr.

To put it bluntly, I sounded like the fucking goddess of sexy herself.

"W-Who are you?"

I stammer a bit, but it took very little away from my orgasmic voice.

The guy in front of me seems to become distracted at the sound, but shakes it off in a few seconds.

He clears his throat.

"Uh, I, um, you know what? Just use what you just said, call me Fang for now," he replies, staring at me.

"Who are you?" he asks in return after a few seconds.

Oh no, if this guy wants to hide behind an alias, I will too.

I think for a moment. I think about my voice and look back at the water I was pulled from.

"Siren," I reply. It seemed fitting.

He gives a smirk that melts right through me.

The first rays of dawn peer over the treeline. I gasp when he begins to shimmer as the sunlight falls on him. I reach out and place my hand on his chest as it reflects the light. I can't help myself. It's only then that I see my hand reflecting the same as his chest. I drop the blanket from around me, smiling in wonder as the sunlight casts the same dazzling reflections across every patch of my exposed skin.

"Wha-What is this?" I ask, looking up into his piercing red eyes.