A/N: Welp, here it is. The first chapter of my first fanfic! This chapter may be a bit short compared to other ones in the future. This one is just a little bit of me getting used to how my ideas are flowing in the story. As such, I'd like to say to you all: Please, please, PLEASE, give me constructive criticism. Right now, I prioritize that over positive comments. (but put some of those in there too though, you know?) Anyways, enough of my rambling. Read and enjoy!

Chapter 1: A Father

The notion of having a child couldn't have come soon enough in me. After years of honing my magic and skills in witchcraft, it had me on a whim.

It was at the Witch's Mass. I glanced at one of my fellow witches, who held the cooing bundle in her arms. Walking out, I heard the mother speaking to her child.

Her soothing words of how great and powerful of a witch her daughter would be had the small infant laughing and making sounds of joy. Soon after that, my mind had wandered off into a thought of having my own little daughter that I could raise and teach my ways to.

It was quite satisfying, actually, in fact I found myself daydreaming about it at the oddest times. Over the next few years it came longer, more often. Giving birth to the next Gorgon witch who'd be willing and able to take up her family's heavy legacy. It almost sounded like an honor to me.

So finally I decided it was time. I would give birth to the next witch in the Gorgon bloodline. I would teach her everything I knew. And I most certainly would make sure she'd be the most powerful I could make her.

There was only one problem remaining: How would this be done? I didn't know of any man sufficient enough to even consider being the father of my child. It soon came to my attention that I would have to find one.

I found that the most important thing to find in a suitable man was a weaker soul than mine. The weaker it was, the smaller a chance of my child resembling him. That was crucial. As I wasn't interested in a relationship, I couldn't very well have a child who didn't look a thing like me.

Relationships were a terrible ordeal on their own. I couldn't risk having a man fall for me only to find out my true identity. Perhaps a drunk who wouldn't remember the night would be the way to go? Or could I pose as a prostitute, maybe? Act like it's my job? I wouldn't be questioned then, as well as my Soul Protect would be on the whole time.

I came to a conclusion that I would just have to go out and find these answers for myself.

Walking down an alleyway in six-inch heels was something I swore to never do again. In fact, walking anywhere in what I was wearing, I considered it to be... undesirable, to say the least.

The cold night air breezed over my skin, which well over half of it was exposed. Still, I took confidence in my strides, while trying to sense any lesser souls in the area.

Of course, this was all too easy, what with the size of my own soul. The real challenge was trying not to draw attention to whoever might give me disapproving looks, or want to have me for the night. I scan the area where I'm walking, finding any passers-by.

5'10, looked about in his forties. He looked homeless, using what looked like a begging bowl as an ashtray. I avoided him and took an alternate route.

5'7. Thirties this time. He wore business attire and sported a briefcase in his right hand, holding his cell phone in the other, texting. I quickly walked by him, and drew as little attention as I could.

A woman about my age (or, should I say, what age I look), holding a baby in one arm and a bag of groceries in the other. She looked lost. Following her were three more children, two girls and a boy. She gave me a small smile despite her fatigue. As if thinking that I was just trying to get by, much like herself.

An older man about in his seventies. His grey hair was in dreadlocks. He sat in a wheelchair, drinking some cheap vodka. He gave me a rather... suggestive look after taking the bottle from his mouth. I walked faster, looking over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't following me.

Another man in his thirties, but this one had his arm around a girl who looked to be at least ten years younger. He whispers something and she laughs. I smile at them as they pass. They smile back.

After I turn the next corner, I finally find someone.

He was quite lean, but still muscular, looked to be in his mid-twenties. Messy pink hair hid his pale face, ending at his jawline and met with the countless tattoos running from his neck down to his left hand.

He was sitting on top of a dumpster, flicking ash from the cigarette he held between his fingers. As he took another smoke from it, I slowed my pacing, walked in a way he'd notice me.

Sure enough, he did.

"Oi! Fifty bucks for the whole night, how 'bout it?"

Ugh. This disgusts me.

As much as I hated this, I continued to keep up my ruse. I turned toward him and smiled in a way I would guess to describe as "sexy".

I laughed. "Well, well, well. It seems you just rise up to the occasion, don't you?"

He got off of the dumpster, putting out his cigarette. Standing up, he had to be at least six feet tall. As he walked closer I could better see more subtle details. His eyes were such a dark shade of navy it looked almost black.

A thin blue band frayed around his arm. Hmph. Probably forgot to take it off after he took out the needle. Oh, well. It gave a sign that there was a low chance of him remembering tonight.

"So," he started, coming up behind me and resting his hands on my waist. "What's it gonna be, hotstuff?"

My God, I hope this night goes by fast. Stupid man.

Still smiling, I put my hands on his. "Tell you what." I rested my head on his shoulder. "Tonight's free."

His hands rose up to my ribs. "Really?" He chuckled.

"Please. I insist." I turned around and put one hand where my head was, my other one on his chest.

I drew out a long sigh. "Something tells me tonight's going to be worth more than money."

And there you have it! Fav's, follows and reviews are much appreciated, and be generous with critiques! Thanks for reading!