1. Intro

I was running. Running- and not knowing where exactly it was where I was going. But I was running. Of that I was certain. I was panting. Running had never been my specialty. I was no athlete. I didn't like the way I sweated when I ran. The thought disgusted me. My hands were bleeding, that I was certain of too. I could feel the warm wet liquid running down to my fingers and dripping off. Or was it rain? Maybe it was both. Yet still, I was stumbling around, running blindly, scratching my hands against the trees and not caring what happened to my clothes. I had lost a shoe- just then. No time. No time to go back and grab it, I finally decided. It didn't matter that it was my favorite pair- they were replaceable. I was not. That's what my parents told me, anyways. What else could I do but believe them? My sock was slipping down my leg, and it had ripped at the bottom. I could feel the pine needles pressing against my bare skin. My other shoe was falling off, but I would have to manage. Running. I had to keep running. I couldn't look back- I shouldn't look back- but I did. I looked back to see him running after me, eyes red and thirsty. Thirsty for nothing other than my blood. My life source. I let out a small scream, as I fell to the ground, cutting up my knees and dirtying my clothes. Even now, I was vain enough to worry about my clothing. My favorite light pink sweatshirt was caked with mud and dripping with rain. This unsettled me. My short brown hair was covering my eyes, no longer dry and shiny. My jeans, too. Yes, the ones with the rhinestone hearts at the bottom. They too, were caked in mud. Why was I wet? Soaked. It was a stupid question. I was soaking wet, it was raining. Pouring, actually. I don't know how I'd overlooked it. Distracted. Yes, I was very distracted, that must have been it.

Then he jumped on top of me, snarling and angry, and bent his mouth down to drain me of my life-force- my blood that pulsed through my veins. A monster. They existed, somehow. They were not a dream- but reality. Vampires. The things that tormented every child's nightmares. I struggled. Struggled to escape, to get away, to save myself. I was weak, young, with nothing to defend myself. Not so much as a pocket knife. I shut my big blue eyes, trying to wish the monster away. Wishing I would wake up, that it wasn't real. Wishing that I had never wandered so far out into the woods in search of the pretty spring flowers. I just wanted it to go away, anywhere away from ME. I was scared, and I whimpered, not finding words to scream or call out to my elder sister Anri. No, I told myself. Anri was dead. The same way I was going to die now. I was going to die! No…I didn't want to. I tried to scream, but it came out as barely a whisper. My heart was pounding in my chest and I could only moan softly as the fangs pierced into the soft flesh with a stomach churning noise…

I woke up, with hot beads of sweat rolling down my face. A dream. Of course. How could I have been so stupid? I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt, and took a deep breath. Still, today, that one day would haunt me forever. I flicked on the dim lamp that was next to my bedside, and sat up against the back of my bed, eyes closed.

I have to stop…I'm going nuts just thinking about that…it is done. Gone. Over with. Yes, I was attacked by that monster when I was only seven. Now its gone. He's dead. I'm safe. Nothing is going to hurt me. I won't let it, because I am a hunter now. Maybe young and naïve, but I am still a hunter, and I will be able to avenge Anri someday. I am safe. I can defend myself. I am safe.

Or that is what I tell myself. No, the truth is, in a world of vampires, I am indeed not safe. Nobody is, and I'm no exception. They will not avoid me because I am a hunter, and I don't believe that they could even tell. But I still remembered that day clearly though. Too clearly. Too clearly for my own sanity… But there it was, stamped on my brain in flashing Las Vegas style lights. Having to remember. Having to live in constant fear. Of them. Of the monsters that lurk out there. Like a child.

No, I am not a child.

I knew that my sanity was slipping through my fingers like a million tiny grains of sand. You could always hold on to some of it, but just in the palm of your hand. The rest would slip out, bit by bit. Maybe I am not fit to be a hunter. I fear I cannot take these secrets in the world. Maybe I can't.

But I am a hunter.

This is what I tell myself. But am I really, on the inside? Who's to say if my comrades were in trouble that I would not run in fear of my own life? I would run. I am a coward. I am not fit to be a hunter. I have warned my mother about this, but she laughed it off, clearly thinking that it was a joke. It is not though. I am a coward. I dislike this family business.

Some things are better left secrets. Like vampires. I would have been much happier not knowing about their existence. However, I had known. I was forced to know. It was forced upon me. Because of this ridiculous family hunting thing. There are people out there who would do anything to get bitten. But then again, these people are not even positive of their existence. Perhaps they think that all vampires are tame, if they exist? Maybe by a sane one- one that wasn't Level E. One that wouldn't kill you. Getting attacked by a level E is a different story, my fan girl. It's painful, excruciatingly so. There is no passion in it, just greed. Greed and hunger, and no attempt to be gentle. It hurts like nothing you've ever experienced. There I go again, exaggerating. Okay, so maybe it wasn't that horrible. But when you're seven, scared of the creepy-crawlies that you imagine under your bed, and prone to over-reacting…then I guess its as bad as I said it was. Maybe the fear consumed my mind more than anything. I blame my parents…I shouldn't. But I do.

I gave a quick look over to my clock, seeing that it was only eight at night. I'd fallen asleep watching television. The TV was still playing quietly, advertising shaving cream. I bent down to the floor to where the remote had fallen, and turned off the TV. I pushed myself out of bed, still in my clothes. I heard the sink running as my mother washed dishes.

Suddenly I heard my mother shriek, and glass break. I opened my bedroom door to hear, "Aiko, HIDE!" from my father.

But was I really expected to listen? I was a hunter. I would not run. I couldn't. I believe that he was just testing me. I bolted out of my bedroom and ran downstairs, to see my poor fair-haired mother sprawled out on the kitchen floor, her dark ruby blood pooling underneath her, staining her light hair and running down the cracks in the tile. No! This couldn't be happening. My mother was a seasoned hunter. There was no way that something took her down so quickly. My father let out a small yell from inside of the living room, and I knew then I had no choice but to run. I couldn't…if my father couldn't handle something, I knew that I couldn't. I told you. I am a coward. I don't know what happened to them after that, because I ran outside and into the dark woods. I only hoped that they lived through it.

I was running through the woods, which brought back so many dark memories. I could hear the creatures of the night chirping and calling at me, mocking me. They were probably just calling to one another. But in my ears I heard, "coward, coward, Aikido is a coward." I could hear footsteps behind me, of maybe two people. They were talking as they were running, quietly. I couldn't understand what it was they were saying, it simply sounded like the wind that was rushing past me. I just ran faster, jumping over tree roots and hoping to find a populated place soon. I had no such luck. I could not run. Not for a long time, and not very fast. Not after how horribly I was weakened from my previous vampire attack. I had nearly died then.

After maybe forty-five minutes of dodging through the trees, no longer able to run but able to fast walk. I realized that I was no longer being followed. There was a light dusting of snow- not entirely unusual for early February. I wasn't entirely sure where I should start next. Should I go back home, or stay out here, vulnerable to the harsh effects of mother nature? I wasn't sure what would be best. I headed home, as the snow began to get heavier. A stupid move, I must admit. I was almost positive that they would be there waiting for me. A good hunter never would have been so crazy. Then again, a good hunter would have stood by her parents, and died fighting. I was a coward though. I expected to return and be killed. I deserved it. I was a coward. I was only in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, not winter clothes. I was cautious to be quiet and quick. Luckily the snow wasn't deep enough to crunch when I stepped in it.

I circled my house carefully, before deciding that nobody was there anymore. If I was a bad hunter, they were bad vampires. Which was good, for me, at least. When I entered my house, I had that lingering feeling in my stomach, like I had forgotten something. And indeed I had. My mother was still in the kitchen, probably dead by now. I kneeled beside her, and she blinked once, and stared at the ceiling. She was in pain, and a lot of it. I pushed her hair from her eyes and wiped the blood off of her face with a napkin that was on the kitchen counter. I knew that she was going to die, and even if I called the hospital right now she'd never make it. I let her blood stain my clothes, I didn't care. I carefully hugged her, and felt the tears in my eyes. She was my mother. And I'd left her for dead, instead of fighting beside her like I should have.

I would have to live with this on my shoulders for the rest of my life.

Some part of me hoped that that would be long.

"Mom, don't leave me," I choked out. She smiled weakly in return, her eyes devoid of the sparkle and liveliness they had once held, before shutting her eyes forever. I took her fragile hand in my similar one, and begged her to awaken. To see her bright crystal-blue eyes again, sparkling with life. That would satisfy me. I was not ready to see her leave me though. She died because I had not helped her. This was my fault. Hot tears had filled my eyes, and I wanted so badly to scream. She was the only one I'd ever felt love from, even more so then my father. My father was a rough man, who had beaten me in a drunken stupor several times before. My mother had always tried to protect me, getting hurt herself in the process. I loved her so much, and here she was, dead in my kitchen. I shouldn't have let her die after all that she had done for me. But I did, because I was a coward.

I guess now was a good time to call the police as any.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

It had been a week since my parents' death. My father had almost made it- but had passed on the second day at being at the hospital. I can't say I cared as much as I should have. Their murder had been posted in the paper, along with the fact of mysterious bite marks- vampire marks, but the paper didn't know that and neither did the investigators- on their necks. Their funeral had been yesterday, and the whole town had been there. No family though. My only family was a cousin who was drunk every day and out of a job. I hadn't cried. I did not cry in front of people. Not so easily.

Only then did it occur to me I was an orphan. A lonely orphan.

I was an only child- or now I was. I had been five when Anri died. I'd never remembered her, and had only seen her in pictures. She looked like our mother. I didn't even have any friends. I didn't trust anyone after my vampire-run in at seven. Everyone knew I was a scary person to be around. Nobody was there to hug me or give me comfort words. I was left to look over my parents mutilated bodies, and wonder how this had happened to me. The strangers and many hunters from the association merely gave me pity glances. No one exchanged words with me. Not even the Association would recognize me after this. I suppose that it was rather sad that if I had died along with my parents- I would have been recognized. But they knew that I ran. They knew that I ran and I would not be recognized for it. I would- but as a coward. I still didn't know what I was being punished for.

For being a coward. That's what I was being punished for.

I was sitting alone at my house, with the investigators milling about downstairs and the social worker getting prepared to leave soon with my paperwork. I wondered where I would go. I would be stuck in foster care forever, waiting for someone to see past my hard exterior. Okay, well just a few years until I hit adulthood, but that would be forever for me. I was a pretty girl- don't get me wrong. Except nobody could get past the cold shoulder thing that I always did. I would never get adopted. Actually, that was probably a good thing. I didn't want my parents to be replaced. I would never be happy, and I would be stuck at some poor job when I was an adult. Because I was- oh never mind, I'm pretty sure you get it by now.

The social worker called later on and told me that I was being adopted to a Chairman at some rich preppy boarding school thing. I was shocked, and also disappointed. I had never really wanted to go to private school, but maybe they'd be too snobbish to notice me anyways. Good. She also told me that he would be here later on to meet me and help me pack my things. Oh. Wonderful. Well, at least someone WANTED me. That was a good thing, I decided, and would be better than living in an orphanage or a temporary foster home. Although he would not be my father. I had some sort of fleeting hope that maybe he would be better. A sick thought, yes. But when your father would get drunk…

I half-heartedly packed some of my things. My posters and my special stuffed animal…(I no longer slept with him, but still, he was important nonetheless.) my clothes and toothbrush and all of that crap. The stuffed cat was named One, and had been given to me by a dear childhood friend. A childhood friend who thought I was dead. I missed him, but I figured it was better this way anyways. I decided I didn't even really need most of it, so I just brought the necessities. Like the pills. Around five o' clock the doorbell rang, and I walked down the stairs like my feet were made of lead. I opened the door with no smile to be found on my face. He/she was smiling back at me though, and hugged me. Had the Social Worker not informed me that he was a man, I wouldn't have had a clue.

I wondered why the social worker had just given me away so quickly. I didn't think that that was normal…but I also didn't want to question it. Maybe this was just sheer luck. Luck I didn't deserve, but whatever.

"Hi! I'm your new Daddy!!!!" Okay. Hated him already. I blinked, and pulled away. So much for luck.

"Chairman," I said politely.

"Please call me Daddy!" Noooo thanks.

"Er…" was all I could stutter without being rude.

"Ah, yes, yes I'm sorry! I understand this must be a hard time for you."

My expression darkened, "Can we please just go?" I mumbled.

He raised his eyebrows, "Well, of course. Let me help you with your bags…."

"I only have one bag thank you." I picked it up, just ready to leave this place. Too many memories.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\