A/N So this is going to be my first series that I go off on my own and write separately from my friend but I'm excited and hope you all like this. Please review

It was an inky night and I was running fast through the deserted streets of New York. I usually stayed put in the public eye, much easier to be looked over there, but I was trapped. This…this…this person had blocked me out to the rare deserted area of the city. It was clearly a guy at medium height wearing a black hoodie that covered his face. Whoever he was, he had decided to stalk me like prey. I don't know what to do. He kept getting closer and closer, seemingly never out of breath though he'd been chasing me nearly for the past 30 blocks. I kept ahead though, there has to be somewhere I could escape to, some sanctuary. But, of course to my luck, there was nothing in sight.

I kept running till I came to the river. I was so close to the Brooklyn Bridge that I could see the cars escaping back to their homes. "No," I thought. This man was going to kill me if I didn't get out of here. I'm way too young to die; I mean I only turned 16 last week. I am NOT going to die when I haven't even finished school. But there was nowhere to go, not unless I was going to attempt to swim in the dirty East river. Trust me I wasn't. So I turned to face this guy. Maybe if I were nice and said I'd never tell a soul about him, I'd get out of this mess. There were only my prayers to get me out alive.

The man was very close, walking pompously over, knowing he had won the game of cat and mouse. "Jack ass," I murmured under my breath. The man somehow heard it, or so I thought as he stiffened and walked faster over. He grabbed my arm forcefully, pulling me toward his body. His hand was as cold as ice and the color of snow in Vermont. He was also very strong. Once I was in his grasp and right up against him, he took his hand up to his head and pulled off his hood.

If he hadn't been chasing me for the past 20 minutes and wasn't going to kill me, I would definitely have flirted with him. He was the definition of Greek God with a chiseled jaw, the same pure white complexion, bright (and I mean electric) blue eyes, and dark chocolate hair that fell over his face in an organized fashion. He was someone I'd gawk at with my friend Carmen in Times Square. But that was if he was harmless and just buying a hotdog, not attempting to murder me, or whatever he was going to do.

He smirked at my amazement toward his looks. It seemed like he knew I was going to do that too, from the look in his eyes. I got pissed though when he did that and looked away, trying to formulate how to get out of this. Then my master plan came to me. I looked down innocently, taking him by surprise till I threw my free hand up to his nose. I had once heard from my mom after a self -defense class that this would break the nose, even damaging the brain, which would guarantee an escape.

My mother was wrong; nothing happened but my hand cracking. This man was totally fine. I yelped out in pain, but not before Mr. Invincible clamped his free hand around my mouth. He turned me around so I couldn't see him and bent down to my 5'4 height to taunt me.

" Hello little Giselle," he whispered smoothly in my ear with a slight British accent. His voice was deep and so soothing that he could've been a smooth jazz announcer. For once in my life, I was happy my parents named me Giselle. Before I thought it was such a dumb name and after the movie Enchanted came around, I hated it even more. But the way he said it made it seem so sexy.

" You're quite feisty aren't you? I like that though, Cherie," He breathed heavily down my neck, cold air. It felt really nice and soothing. "Now Giselle, I want you to stay quiet. This will only hurt if you choose it to."

So he was going to kill me. Mercilessly too form the sounds of it. Oh god, what was to become of me? Now I started panicking. I could feel myself getting worked up, my face flushing and my body heating up. No, no, no, no, no. I am not going to let my parents face me dead. No I refuse to do that. I started fidgeting, but his grip only got stronger.

"This is your choice mon ami," and then I felt it. He had leaned down again and was ripping into the base of my throat. I couldn't help it, I started trying to scream and was tearing up. It hurt so bad; like a fork lift stabbing me repeatedly in the stomach. I bit down on his hand to try to get him off of me, but all I got was bitter blood in my mouth.

What kind of sick person does this, or is this a person at all. A normal person, murderer or not, can't typically bite through a vein and stomach the blood. I know this sounds ridiculous, but this guy was seriously bordering a cult member and…a vampire! It had to be the only explanation. But vampires aren't real.

At this point, I could barely think straight. I was so relaxed for some reason. It sounds unrealistic to be comfortable as a thing sucks your life source from your blood, but it was. I was about to pass out, when suddenly the thing stopped. He just stiffened again standing upright, but still having a firm grip on me. I looked to where he was staring, scared and aware. There was a figure there, a blurry one. It looked like this guy but I couldn't see his eyes. He was taller than the thing though.

"STOP IT!" The figure said to the thing. He was aware of what was happening and ran over to us. He was so quick that I barely saw him. But there he was, seconds later, standing in front of us. I could barely keep my eyes open at this point but I remember being thrown to the side onto the street. I could barely feel anything though.

"This is not your fight Daylighter," The thing said to the figure. Daylighter? I couldn't process what that meant.

"She's a child! You can't do this Bradford."

"I can do whatever I like, young one. She took a bit of my blood anyways, so she will be one of us anyways. She is almost drained," thing said in a suddenly very thick British accent. I looked at the figure, the Daylighter who I could tell was mad. Then he advanced to the thi- I mean Bradford. He took after him, I guess trying to kill him Bradford took out something sharp though and tried to get the Daylighter.

"Do that if you dare," the figure said in a familiar New York accent.

"Addio dolce principe," Was all Bradford said in some weird langauge before striking the Daylighter in the heart. That didn't kill him though. Bradford exploded into a million pieces before us and became the remnants of just salt crystals. I stared at them with all the strength I had before passing out. The only thing I heard before dying was the Daylighter running towards me and kneeling next to me saying, " I'm sorry."

A/N Hope you enjoy and review