"She see them walking in a straight line, that's not really her style

And they all got the same heartbeat, but hers is falling behind"

Echosmith - "Cool Kids"

I could see the flashing lights of the club being reflected in the window of a car in front of me. I glanced back at the building behind me and smiled to myself. Over the past few years, twenty-four7 had become my home away from home.

The club was always filled with good bands and good people. Sure, I might've been underage, but no one has ever said anything. To me, at least.

I started playing at the club two years ago, after the club manager had seen me perform in the Battle of the Bands at my high school. My group didn't win, but, in a way, I guess I did. After the show, she came up to me and asked if I wanted to play at a club a few nights a week.

At that point, she hadn't realized that I was only fourteen. I'll admit that I've always looked older than my actual age. I was 5' 8 with green eyes and mousy red hair. Two years later and two years later, my face had thinned out and I grew two more inches. No real luck with the hair, though.

I started playing with the band a night or two a week, but after a while it seemed I like was there every night. I'd spend my weekends there, and some weeknights. I became the lead singer of the band, playing a piano every so often, and was pretty close with the group. There some of the best people I knew and I could never regret knowing them. Another good thing was that I got paid for every performance. That's always a plus.

I had reached the corner of the block and was standing in front of my car. It's a rotten, temperamental thing. But it's mine. Unlocking it, I slid into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. God, just my luck. I put my head on the steering wheel, cursing myself for ever buying the fifteen-year old piece of junk. My eyes flickered to my watch. I had half an hour to get home and, if I started walking now, I might make it.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a knock on the window "Olivia!" I turned to see Artemis' grinning face peering at me. I turned the handle to roll down the window to hear her ask "You're leaving already?" A wry smile on my face, I sighed dramatically. "Yes, unfortunately, I'm still sixteen and I have to go to this awful thing called school."

She rolled her eyes at my comment, saying "Car troubles, again?" I nodded. "If you wait an hour, I can drive you." She had her hands on her hips and was looking at me expectantly. For someone considerably shorter than me, she was sort of scary. Maybe it was because she could throw a 200 pound man out of her club without breaking a sweat, or maybe the way she always got what she wanted.

On most days, I'd accept the ride immediately, but today our set went a little late. And there was the fact that my curfew was getting closer and closer. Oh, the perks of being a sixteen-year old with a shitty car. "I'll be fine walking, it's not too far" I state with a wave of my hand.

She didn't look pleased, but she nodded anyways. "Just text me when you get home, alright? That way I'll know if I need to have your death on my conscience." I grinned at her, and with one last wave, I watched her walk back towards the club.

We both knew that the neighborhood wasn't too dangerous, but all of the PSA scenarios start with a young girl walking home at night. God knows that the most broadcasted incidents are always clichés.

Ten minute later, I still wasn't home. It's not that it was too far away, but I just had no energy that night. I figured taking a shortcut through the back streets wouldn't be a bad idea. Instead of walking around the block, I took a right turn to cut through an alleyway. (I'm lazy, I know.)

I should have been wary that there was a man just standing in the middle of the walkway. I pushed it out of my mind, though, and had it all planned out: I would walk right by him as quickly as I could and not slow down until I was out of the alley. Of course, this plan was shot to hell when he started to talk to me.

"Do you know the way to the nearest gas station? My car ran out of gas over there"- he gestured to the side of the alley that I wanted to get to- "and, well, that's the story." He had this sort of sad smile on his face, and his voice was really pleasant. It was smooth and it was husky, and, all in all, I would listen to him talk all day if, one, I knew him and, two, if it wouldn't have been creepy as hell.

He reached his hand out to touch my arm, and I instantly recoiled. The man's hand was freezing and pale as snow. I crossed my arms and took a step back, taking a better look at him. He was a bit taller than me and his face was attractive, to say the least. All of him was attractive. He was definitely not hit by the ugly stick as a kid.

It was clear to me now that his thick, woolen cloak should have set off alarms on my head. After all, who wears a cloak in May? No one normal, that's who. But I didn't pay attention, I just rambled off directions.

"It's, um, down this road," I pointed to the way I had come from, "and at the first light, you need to go to the left. After that, it should be right in front of you. You shouldn't mi-" a hand covered my mouth and my eyes widened. I tried to step back but I was stopped by whoever was standing behind me. They wrapped an arm across my body, holding me close to them. I tried to scream, but there was no use- I couldn't break free.

The more I tried to get away, the tighter the grip on me got. Who could be this strong, I though. The person's arm felt like stone and I was truly uncomfortable. I let my body go limp, seeing if I could fall out of their grip, but they still managed to hold on to me. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears and could feel my heart pounding faster. I was aware of everything around me, it was surreal.

"Oh, Felix, let the poor girl go" mused a voice from behind me, a voice that was even nicer than the first, I must say. Describing it in two words: Voice porn. The grip on me slackened, but I was still being held on to.

I tried to shimmy and turn to see the people behind me, but all I could see in the darkness of the alley way were two pairs of blood red eyes. I swallowed, the gravity of this situation dawning on me. I wonder what they wanted with me. Were they going to kidnap me and ask for ransom? Kill me? Sell me as some sort of sex slave?

The voice porn guy had made his in front of me and I couldn't help but let out a small gasp when I saw him. He was enchanting, utterly and entirely beautiful- except for the eyes, his eyes were a definitely creepy. He was taller than me, which was a change, and his face looked like marble. Perfect cheekbones, a perfect smirk on his face, and for God's sake, I needed to stop obsessing over what people look like. I've always tried to judge people on their actions, but damn. The boy was gorgeous.

Mr. Unhealthily Beautiful was staring at me, his arms across his chest. It was unnerving how he didn't blink, but I was trying not to look away. Maybe the braver I looked, the less they would hurt me? I wouldn't have bet on that though. I was truly terrified and I'm sure it showed. I wanted to scream and cry, to punch and kick, and, despite me 'trying to be brave', I was scared out of my wits.

And then back came the voice porn. "She's pretty…" he trailed off slowly, looking me up and down. I was waiting to hear the 'for a…' bit, but it never came. I guess I'd take a compliment when I got one. He stopped looking at me, the look on his face one of realization, and his gaze focused on whoever was holding my captive.

"Felix, did you not hear me before? I said, let her go" his eyes were narrowed, looking dangerous. Even though it wasn't directed towards me, it was still terrifying to see his beautiful face twisted into anger.

"But what if she runs?" my captive said, sounding sort of thick. A smile grew on Mr. UB's face. "Felix," he said slowly, "she wouldn't make it two seconds." There was a pause and the person slowly released me from his hold. I gasped in a deep breath and shot the big, muscly guy the most hateful glare that I could muster. He didn't flinch. I mean, I wouldn't have either, if I were him. Girl with a stick frame versus a guy who looked like the incredible hulk- it's easy to see who would win.

Mr. UB walked around me, as if appraising me, and I tried to keep his gaze as he did. It was really disconcerting to have someone, a stranger, looking at me like I was a piece of meat. Thinking about it, I suppose the other two were doing the same, but that's even worse.

I took a step away, just to see what their reactions would be. Nothing. They stayed calm. "What do you want with me?" I whispered. They all turned and looked at me, almost simultaneously, but gave me no answer. They went back to their conversation. My heart was still racing and every fiber of my being was shouting for me to run. I stepped further away, but they did little more than glance at me.

I had a sort of plan, but it completely relied on me. When I was little, I discovered that I was different than most people. I'd been out shopping with my mother when all of a sudden she disappeared. Five-year old me panicked, running up and down every aisle to find her. When I couldn't find her, I fell to the ground and started shaking. I heard someone calling my name, and when I opened my eyes, I was in another store in front of my mother. It's something that just happened sporadically, when I was scared or panicking. I had never been able to do it willingly, though. But, I figured, if there ever was a time I was the most scared, it was that night.

I was bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet, watching the three figures. Their conversation had slowed and the first one I had seen was edging closer towards me. If I wanted to go through with it, I thought I had to go then. I took one more step, and then another, and, on the third step, I started sprinting. Chilling laughter echoed throughout the alleyway, but I didn't look back to see what they were doing.

I wasn't even halfway to the end of the alley when I cheered as I felt vertigo-like sensations overtake my body. I had never done it willingly, but when I opened my eyes, I was on the other side of the town. I guess fate was on my side that day.

I ran the rest of the way home, not stopping until I was on my front porch. It was 11:47. I was thirty-two minutes late. "Second strike. Next time, no band for a month," my mother said as I walked inside, breathlessly. Standing in front of her, she looked at me. "Are you alright?"

I nodded and said "My car died," before running up the steps. I slammed my bedroom door shut, eliciting a shout from my mom, to look in the mirror on the back. There were bruises on my jaw and around my mouth. I pulled my shirt down slightly to reveal a black and blue bruise in the shape of an arm across my collar bone.

This would be awfully hard to explain in the morning.

Months have passed since that awful night, but I still have dreams of Mr. Unhealthily Beautiful and his gang of male models. The more I try to push him out of my mind, the more he fills it. Just my luck, right? My mom has been hawking over me since then, saying I am jumpy and more nervous than usual. I chalk it up to finals and she lets it go. She really does care for me but I don't know what I could tell her. How would I be able to explain their inhumane beauty, their impossible strength, why I was going down that dark alley in the first place?

I wake up to find my house empty. No sister, no mother. At least my cat is here. They were probably out getting ready for my birthday party. As much as I tell them to stop with the nonsense, the more nonsensical it gets. Last year, they sent me around on a scavenger hunt around town. The clues were awful, as were expected when written by a six year old, but I had fun. My mom managed to get the whole town involved and it was wonderful. And the year before, my mom organized a paintball game in the woods behind my house that was followed by a bonfire.

My alarm had been set for ten, but I still have to drag myself out of bed. I take a look in the bathroom mirror, staring at my reflection. Frizzy bed head, dark circles under my eyes, smeared makeup from the night before. I am gorgeous. Kidding, kidding.

I reach down to pick up my hair brush but instead find a silver envelope on my bathroom sink. I pull out the piece of paper and read it:

Happy Birthday, Olivia!
Feel free to do whatever you please today! Just be sure to be showered, dressed (nicely), and at the Eastern Warehouse by the docks at 8:30 sharp. Have a great day!
-Mom & Marie

It seems like a reprieve to have the day free. Glancing at the clock again, I figure screw it. I can get a shower later. Right now, I plan to eat cinnamon rolls and veg out. Sounds like a great plan to me.

It's six o'clock and pitch black when I figure I should finally get ready. I take a nice, long shower before slipping into a gold-colored dress. I dig my strappy black heels out of my closet and slide them on my feet. My mother did say to dress nice, so I figure going all out won't hurt anyone. I brush out my wet hair until it is sleek and smooth. It's a change from the normal frizzy mess I call hair.

I glance at the clock on the wall, realizing that it's time to go if I want to make it on time. Since they (my mother) are sending me across town, I have to call a taxi. My poor car had finally reached its last leg just weeks after it wouldn't turn on that night. I lock the front door behind me and sit down on the porch swing to wait. The taxi pulls up in front of me just a few minutes later, and I give the driver the address.

Figuring a few minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt, and knowing it's at least a forty-five minute drive to the docks, I close my eyes. "Miss, miss" I hear the driver saying to me. "There's someone knocking on the window" I turn my head and my heart leaps into my throat seeing the figure standing outside the cab.

His hand breaks through the glass of the taxi window and I watch, unmoving, as the door is pulled clean off. His hand reaches into the cab and I try to move to the other side of the cab. He's too fast, though, and he grabs my arm. Pulling me out of the cab, I feel myself being thrown onto the ground. My head hits the ground hard and I see stars in front of my eyes. Everything goes black for a moment. I'm blinking slowly, trying to get my vision back into focus, when I hear a scream come from the cab.

Mr. Unhealthily Beautiful is standing in front of me and he pulls me up to my feet. I wobble, stumbling into him. He grabs me just before I fall again and he's the only reason I am still managing to stand. Stupid boy and his stupidly perfect face.

I stare up at him, into his eyes, knowing that there is nowhere for me to go. Not that I'd be able to manage to run away. For a moment, it's just the two of us looking at one another. He leans down towards me and I could feel his soft lips touch my neck. Every fiber of my being is screaming, telling me I'm in danger. I open my mouth to say something, what, I don't know, but then all I can feel and think about is the pain suddenly starts to surge through my whole body. I realize that he had bitten me and then I have no control over myself anymore, the pain being too strong.

I feel strong arms pick me up as I let the pain take over.

So. This is a rewrite of something I'd written a while ago. A long while. The old one is still posted on ff somewhere but I lost access to the account. Someone mentioned this story and, it being my baby, I decided to revive it. Chapter 2 is done. But if it gets posted, I don't know. I wanna know what people think? What could be done better? If Olivia should be more/less sarcastic?

Okay. Thanks for reading!