Within a week I knew I was going to die.
A week after meeting...them.
Maybe I'm starting off on the wrong foot, but my story needs to be told. Mine is a song that has yet to be sung by so many girls who lived, and died just like me. So maybe you knew someone like me, young, aloof, goth, black hair, someone who was always seeking an adventure regardless of the cost. But you will never really know the truth.

I was 19 that summer, I had just left home and took wing to California. I was new to the world, this kind of world in particular.
But you never really know the world until you come to a place like this. Santa Carla, a humid town by the beach, a town with secrets kept locked away in dark caves and ocean waves. It was the kind of place I liked. Lots of attractions, countless good-looking guys and an active night life.
I came here to pursue my career in journalism after I earned my associates degree in journalism and photography last summer. I was off to a good start after getting my first job in the in the field. I sent out blind resumes over the country and the only call back I received was from a local paper seeking an artist just like me. After leaving home I settled in to this mysterious beach community and began a new life. And I had never felt so alive.

Work was fairly easy. I had a flair for writing, and I eagerly awaited venturing out to the photography division. Soon enough I was there in the midst of the action. A recent series of murders had surfaced in the town and I was sent to prove myself. I was on the crime scene with a senior staff member who was there to report on the crime. I was told to brace myself, but no matter how many true crime shows I had been exposed to, I could ever have prepared me for the corpse. It was a young girl around my age, thin and pretty once. She had a small tattoo of a koi fish on her upper right arm, and coppery-red curls. Her eyes were clouded over with the breath of a recent death. Her neck had been savagely ripped into, her body was badly bruised from being deposited under the board walk. Tiny crabs had began their dance, taking scraps of meat from her pale face.
Brady, my team mate affirmed to me that she was only seventeen. She had been fermenting under the boardwalk for three days until a group of surfers happened upon her body.
"Dear God..." I heard Brady murmur as we made our way under the police tape. "I thought the horror was over." He spoke softly to the police chief on hand keeping stray reporters at bay. Brady's forehead creased in a grimace, "Was this one of the missing girls?"
The police chief nodded. His badge read: Brooks. He had salt and pepper hair, a dark tan and looked as weathered and beaten as some of the wood holding up the boardwalk. "Sure was, Brady. If you ask me I think its the same sickos from the fall."
I spoke up, unable to control my anxiousness. "You mean, there were more?"
He glanced at me, unsure of my presence. Brady introduced me as the new kid on the team, "This is Rowan Rassmussen."
Brooks continued to regard me doubtfully, "Yes. Sadly, last autumn we had a series of missing persons and murders occur. It started with a young drifter, Star was her name. According to her friends she had gotten mixed up with some gang and they hadn't seen her until she was found half buried in the sand, head decapitated from her body..." Brooks took off his shades to reveal moody blue eyes. "After she was discovered it wasn't very long until more girls started disappearing and turning up dead. Their heads either decapitated or throats slashed open like this one. We took in suspects but they were all innocent. All our leads went cold."
"It's becoming too common of an occurrence here." Brady said thoughtfully, running a hand through his brown and silver streaked hair.

After the first murder five more surfaced. Brady and I interviewed numerous grieving family members, and angered town's people. Everyone wanted one thing and that was justice. Work was getting dangerous. People didn't want to talk about the things they couldn't control. Some would get angry and chase us off. I was thankful for Brady at times like these, he could keep a level head and his age was an advantage in most situations when mine wouldn't be.
As the summer progressed so did the serial murders.
It was in late August when Brady and I were separated and I was given the advantage to prove myself. "You got this, kiddo," Brady said steadily with a pat on my back. I was nervous, more nervous than when I first came to Santa Carla. It had been one thing interviewing all those people, and being on crime scenes with Brady, but now I would be alone.
I went out that night to the boardwalk where I had several leads of this first victim "Star", and her friends.
One guy in particular who went by the name Dez was said to hang around California Customs tattoo and piercing. Supposedly he had been close with Star and several other victims.
I made my way to the tattoo parlor, bringing only my camera and a pad of paper. Dez was said to be somewhat of the cocky sort, he didn't like to be bothered either. But I had lived the underground lifestyle back home. So-called goth stars like Dez wouldn't be a match for me.
After sunset I arrived at California Customs, looking for a guy who met his description. A pale man with lengthy black and blue hair sat outside, decked out in his black attire, complete with combat boots and a thread bare tank top showing his tattoos off. He had a handsome face, but his eyes read otherwise. Who knew? This could be our killer.
I started out slow with my approach, I didn't want to seem suspicious because the second he realized I was a journalist I knew he would shut down and shove off. I had to keep cool, and play off my dark charm. I went to the railing and stared off at the blooming sunset, dark reds and purples drew ligatures across the sky. I could feel the weight of his eyes pressing into me, it was smooth sailing here on out.
I heard the approach of his heavy boots and then the low purr of his voice. "Hey there," He said leaning onto the railing next to me. I looked as uninterested as I could manage. "Dez," he mentioned, extending his hand.
I gave a coy grin, and accepted his hand. "Rowan," I replied.
"Are you new here?" He asked looking up and down my body.
I nodded an affirmative, saying that I was going to start college in the fall. We left the boardwalk, heading out towards the shore. He continued to drone on about his life here, the sick places to catch a high, dark corners to party and some choice clubs. Eventually I got to the meat of the conversation. "So… have you heard much about the murders?"
Dez stiffened, he was visibly uncomfortable about the topic. "Murders?"
"Yes," I continued, dropping my bashful act from earlier. "The missing girls?"
"Oh…those…" he scratched at his neck with a couple black fingernails. "Yeah I've seen it on the news."
I shrugged, "It's sad about what happened to that one girl… Star, I think was her name."
His eyes lit up at the mention of the name. "How do you know Star?"
"I've heard people talk about her at college," I deflected. "I heard she was one of the first victims."
Dez nodded, "She was. She died in the fall…last year."
I turned to him, "So you knew Star?"
He shrugged, "I mean… yeah sort of. She frequented some of my hang outs, came by the shop sometimes." Dez's hair blew softly in the wind. "She was a nice girl. Just got in with the wrong side of the culture… if you dig."
"No… what do you mean?"
"Ah… just some guys. They were in a gang. Star had a thing for the main guy and I think she got a little too serious with some dark underground clubs." Dez appeared uncomfortable. "There are some strange things around this place. I think Star just uncovered a secret better left dead." He gave me an even glance, an unsure cold glare. "Say, what are you pushing for exactly?"
I had to keep my cool, I put on the same stone wall regard as Brady might. "Just curious is all," I punctuated the end with a wink.
He seemed to accept this, "Well, if I were you I'd keep it simple. There is definitely something unsettling going on around town."
I was curious in the way he spoke about secrets and the disappearing girl. Eventually the conversation turned away from the serial murders back to some clubs Dez noted were exclusive. "Are you busy tonight, Rowan? I could take you to the Black Lily… It's not far from here, if your not up past your bedtime," he said with a wink. The pale moon lit up his face, and the thunderous roar of motorcycles filled the air.
I felt strangely compelled to take him up on the offer. But my better instincts kicked in, and I hesitated. "No thanks," I responded checking the time. I had gotten enough information from Dez, I didn't want to get too close to a lead. My clear-headed Brady intelligence was bleeding through.
I looked into his dark eyes, there was something behind them that was sinister, and I had just unleashed the beast when I turned down his offer. "Hold on, I just want to talk. No reason to get hostile, Rowan. I just want to talk—" Dez stopped talking and turned to observe a hand holding onto his shoulder.
The man behind him called his name. Commanding attention it resounded in the night. Dez froze and his breathing became shallow. "Dez?" the voice said again.
"David," Dez replied not turning. He seemed dazed, scared.
Behind Dez stood the most stunning man I had ever seen. His deep blue eyes seemed to stare directly through him. He was well over six feet tall and had platinum blond hair as white as the moon. I reeled in my own helpless bewilderment, as he appeared to loom over both of us with those piercing blue eyes. He glared at Dez, like his eyes could burn directly through his body. "Where you going anyway, buddy?" I understood "buddy" wasn't a term of endearment for Dez.
He whirled around and sneered at the man behind him.
I hear two more guys laugh behind the blond. I turned to leave when I bump into someone. "Sorry," I begin, but one of the guys accompanying the blond cuts me off. This one is pale with shoulder-length dirty blond hair and brown eyes. He gives off an aura of a rocker, looks a bit like a rock star himself.
"You're kinda cute," he says, "You wanna ditch this crowd and have some fun?"
I blush and he laughs when he notices. Another guy emerges from the group. This one is wearing a tattered jean jacket. His hair is equally long and curly, he's much shorter than the others. He owns a grin much like the rocker. He says, "Really cute. Too cute for you, Paul."
He rushes the guy in the blue jean jacket and punches him sharply in the back. "You're a bastard Marko."
Turning on my heel I start to walk off when I hear Marko call, "This your boyfriend or something?" He glances at Dez, who is cornered by the platinum blond wielding a knife.
Paul smiles at me, "I can be your boyfriend." He finishes this with a chorus of giddy laughter.
"Just back off David, ok?" Dez stammers.
"Little late for that, buddy," says another guy, wearing a leather jacket with long black hair.
"Go to hell, Dwayne," Dez yells.
The blond puts up his knife, "We're already there, Dez."
In saying this he receives a chorus of laughter from the group.
My camera had fell from my pocket and landed near Paul. "What's this for anyway, are you a photographer, or do you work for the pigs?"
I quickly grabbed it back and glared evenly at him. "Fuck off."
Dez maneuvers away from the group.
"What are you doing preying on innocent girls?"
He swallowed loudly and glanced around.
"Get lost, Dez."
And with his final remark Dez fled, his black and blue hair waving behind him like a banner.
I pause checking the time, and smile awkwardly. "Hey thanks."
The platinum blond gives me a nod and a half-annoying smile.
I start to leave when the rocker intercepts me. "Hey, hey, hey… what's the rush?"
I blush again and step to pass him.
Marko and the one with long black hair appear next in my path. "Come back, we were just getting acquainted," Marko teases.
"Fuck off, creep," I repeat and start heading back to the boardwalk.
"You should just be glad David interfered," The black haired one responded with a sneer.
"I'm sure David will share," Paul laughed whimsically.
I walk away quickly, feeling their gaze burning into my back.
"Hey! You're pretty quick!" Paul exclaims running in front of me.
"Why are you following me?" I say angrily.
David appears next to me almost immediately. "Why aren't you following us?"
David steps into my line of vision. "What have you got to lose?" he reaches out for my hand.
Without coherent thought I take his hand and descend into the mouth of the night.

I woke groggily with pain booming in my temples. I blinked at the harsh light filtering into the room… the room… where was I?
I was in a room with a high rocky ceiling. The sound of the surf was deafening and harsh sunlight shone directly into the dusty room. I was laying on a bed with ruffled, wrinkled sheets. Posters were draped around, banners and flags hung against the walls. This was like a cave, I thought. I spotted motorcycles standing in a row, and then it all came back.
Details of last night flooded in quickly.
I remembered my encounter with Dez, and how he had been chased off. Those chilling blue eyes of David's entered my mind. I felt like I was fighting with two inner voices. One was telling me to remember and the other was urging me to forget. I caught patchy flickers of my memories. I remembered leaving with David, getting on his bike as they sped into the night. We were headed back to their hang out, I summarized. All thought of my job left as quickly as it had arrived, my entire conscious was focused on this particular moment. We partook in some alcohol and passed around a joint. As the night wore thin the others dispersed leaving only David and I.
"What do you know about the murders?" I asked impulsively, almost too soon I thought.
David just grinned and pushed the question aside. "Why do you wanna know about that anyway?"
"Just curious," I remained, leaning into his side.
"I know enough, Rowan," He said leaning in to kiss me.
I deflected his advance and pushed him aside. He beamed playfully, and put an arm around my waist. "You're too curious for your own good," He whispered and I felt the brush of his lips against my neck. I didn't push back this time. He continued to kiss my neck, and I felt a slight nip of his teeth against the skin. We were laying back on the bed as he continued, moving to my lips and I felt his tongue lashing in my mouth. He pulled back and sat up, looking down at me. "Get some sleep, Rowan," David said running a hand through my hair. I looked up through my blurry vision, my eyes growing heavier. I watched David's eyes turn into an orange color, and I felt the sting of his teeth burrow into my flesh.