A group of aristocratic men stroll through the street, having an enthusiastic conversation – their arms waving and their stomachs and mustaches shaking in great amusement. They carelessly wander through the middle of intersections, boisterously laughing, either drunk to the point of stupidity or so pompous that they believe no one but their elite asses exist.

After a few close calls with several carriages and a cranky old woman that insists on giving them what-for for almost bumping her into a puddle, they reach me, and, as I predicted, there is no room to move out of the way – the only option is to get knocked to the ground. Amazingly enough, they seem to notice running into my small frame as opposed to the massive mustangs that stand a good two or three heads taller than them.

"Sorry, young lad!" One man shouts more loudly than needed as he hoists me up, the force causing me to lurch forward as I stand and slam into his well-fed stomach. "Oh!" he blushes and releases my elbow that he is still gripping firmly. Tipping his hat he starts off again, his fellow socialites tittering as they join his stride, and speaks to me once more. "Excuse, miss, won't happen again." My hair is short, my face obscured by a hat, and my clothes baggy, but still my breasts have found a way to expose me.

I can hear them even as I round the corner of the next street and head towards a quieter part of the city. I walk quickly past old buildings that look ready to crumble even with the gentlest of touches until the hustle and bustle of the main road is a distant, muffled sound. The apartment complex I enter is as ragged as the ones I had passed, the stairs questionable in their strength, but I make it to the third floor with no problems.

After an intense bout with the door that requires much jiggling of the knob and a few kicks towards the bottom, I cross the threshold of the run down room. I go to let out the sigh that has built in my lungs, but it gets caught in my throat as I stare with wide eyes at the large figure that sits on my couch.

"Mama!" I'm almost thrown to the ground as Ellie, my ten year old daughter, tackle-hugs me upon my entry, knocking the breath I was holding out of me.

"Wha-who…?" I stutter as I hug her back, wary and confused by this surprise figure.

"Oh yeah! We have a guest, mama!" She grabs my wrist and begins to drag me closer. "I found him wandering in the street and-"

"Ellie…." I say in a stern tone.

"-he looked like he was ready to die from some sort of injury the way he was kind of hunched over, but it turns out he was really hungry and exhausted. I gave him some food and told him he could sleep on the bed, but he said he'd prefer the couch, and he didn't even lie down, just kind of sat there and closed his eyes, and did you see his hair – it's so long and-"

"Ellie!" I put my hand over her mouth – damn, the girl could talk. "What have I told you about bringing strange people home?"

"Don't?"

"Right, so-"

"But!"

"Ah! So…?"

"Why is there a strange person in our home?"

"Yes."

She takes a deep breath. "Because he was wandering in the street and he looked like he was ready to die from-"

I cover her mouth again and sigh. She glares at me as I give her a light tap on the head and a firm 'stay there' look as I slowly approach the resting figure.

The man wears an elaborate priest's robe, but there is no limit to deception, and he could easily be any sort of villainy, the worst being a vampire. Upon closer inspection, it surprises me how handsome he is. He has long, blonde hair, slightly wavy, that flows past his shoulders and down to about the middle of his back. Even through his robes I can tell that he is quite toned. As I inch closer my foot hits what appears to be a long staff that leans against the couch and is loosely gripped in his hand. The slight jostle to his weapon must have awoken him though, and before I know it, the staff is at my throat and he firmly grips my shoulder so that I stay in place.

"Um…hi…." I don't know what startles me more, my imminent doom or his glittering green eyes.

"My apologies," his voice is quiet, but strong. He releases my shoulder and retracts the staff from against my neck, standing as he does so. I suddenly find myself staring at his chest, not his eyes.

"That's…alright," I murmur, blushing slightly.

"Thank you for your hospitality. I should leave." He takes a step around me, heading for the door.

"What?! No, you can't leave!" Ellie shouts. She runs up and grabs his sleeve.

"Ellie, let the man leave."

"But…but there's no church in this city! He doesn't have anywhere else to stay!"

"I was merely passing through."

"But-"

"Ellie, let him go."

"No! You never let me have any friends – I won't let him leave!"

I look at him apologetically. His face shows no emotion, so I can't tell if he feels sorry for me or is becoming extremely annoyed. "Ellie, now is not the time for this. Let-"

"No!" she lets out a louder scream. The air becomes still for a moment before it is filled with noise – unidentifiable, ear piercing noise – that comes from Ellie. My eyes water as I cover my ears, unsuccessfully trying to block out the sound. I see the priestly man kneel to the floor as well, clutching his head and gritting his teeth.

"Ellie, stop!" She doesn't know how to control it yet – I never let her learn – so the unrelenting burst of noise hurts her as well. She rolls around on the ground twitching from the power and the pain. I quickly stumble over to her and take her into a deep, sheltering embrace. I'm unsure if it will work, but I start to sing her favorite lullaby from when she was a baby. I try to make my voice as soothing as possible, but it is quite difficult when my skull feels like it is about to split in two.

What seems like an eternity, but in reality is only a minute or so, her screaming subsides and her body goes limp. I'm breathing heavily and my vision is blurry. I can barely make out the blob that is the blonde haired man stand up before my body goes numb and I fall into darkness.


Terra's ears perk – she smiles wickedly and lifts herself gracefully from the maroon, velveteen chair in which she sits. She strides smoothly across the room, past others that glumly sit around, and through a door that leads to a smaller, but more elaborately decorated, bedroom.

A man sits on the windowsill, the curtains drawn against the daylight, staring out onto the streets. Terra's arms are around his chest before he can fully say her name.

"Did you hear that, Nicolai?" she purrs in his ear.

"I did. It seems we found her again." He smirks, long fangs protruding from his lips.

"When should we move in?"

"As soon as it's safe to step outside. I'm sure the others will be excited to finally move."

Terra struts out of the small room. A few seconds later Nicolai can hear a number of hoots and hollers, and a few cackles of glee, from the adjacent room. The time has come to collect the prize he had ten years back, and a few times since. He gets up from his position on the windowsill and walks over to a limp form lying on the bed of the room. The body is a few hours old, and the blood far from fresh, but he finishes it off nonetheless. The little girl that had eluded him would be found, and her protector would make a beautiful snack. He chuckles to himself, licking his blood soaked fingers, as he stares out the curtained window and watches as the sun sinks further behind the earth.