"Humans are so interesting, don'tcha think?~"

Izaya shot a smirk at Namie, who merely rolled her eyes before wiping the blood on her mouth with distaste. She eyed the splotches of red on her pale, pale arm and scowled.

"What do you think, Izaya?" she deadpanned without looking up.

Izaya brightened at the question. He spun on his heel at the foot of the dark alley and jauntily skipped back to the bodies lying near some garbage. "I think they are wonderful creatures, Namie-san, especially those hunters."

And with no warning, Izaya snapped his fingers; the sound loud and piercing in the quiet of the alley. Bright, orange flames engulfed the three corpses; ugly, foul stench immediately impaled Namie's keen senses, making her feel sick and lightheaded. In response to the fire, Namie jumped away from her crouched position near the two male bodies and glared holes at her coven leader. Izaya seemed to not care about what he'd just done, however. In fact, he looked bored.

Namie withheld a snarl. The idiot could have killed her!

She stood up straight, clothes covered in the blood of her victims, and arms crossed over her chest. She continued to glare at the older vampire in front of her while wishing painfully hard that one of his plans will fail soon. The bastard deserved it, after all.

Izaya merely hummed in amusement at the expression on Namie's face. He walked away from the mass of burning flesh, a spring in his step, and Namie trailing sullenly at his heels.

"I could smell the fucking flea around here somewhere."

And indeed, the seasoned hunter could sense the aura of the vampire, especially one as powerful (and familiar) as Orihara Izaya. Shizuo was trained long and hard to hone his senses, to sharpen his body and mind in order to track, attack and destroy the beasts that feasted on humankind and monopolized the world as they saw fit. It all started when his monstrous strength became too much for any normal human to bear, well into his high school years when it seemed like seclusion was the only solution. He was eventually forced to pull out of school altogether, and Tanaka Tom, his sempai, was there ready and willing to help him.

Only later did Shizuo discover the shocking truth about this uncanny strength: this monstrous power - it was all due to his genetic makeup, according to blood tests and tracing the vast history of the many hunting clans. Apparently, the Heiwajima family contained some ancient hunting blood in them - a trait derived from a distant ancestor who decided to settle down, get married and have a family away from the dark supernatural world.

Well, as normal and away from the supernatural as was possible.

Various vampire and werewolf attacks were reported quite frequently, actually. Of course, they weren't labeled as such. Instead the higher-ups of the hunting organizations manipulated the humans into believing the murders were the result of an enraged animal, a successful suicide, an impersonator, an insane arsonist: anything the public could eat up and amuse themselves with, if necessary. These incidents occurred only if there even was a body to be found, however; identification of the dead was nearly impossible sometimes.

With that thought in mind, Shizuo nudged one of the burnt bodies with the toe of his shoe; watched through narrowed eyes as the ashes fell free from the bone, scattering onto the dirty cement upon which the corpse lay. Like grains of black sand pushed gently by the wind's force, the burnt remains spread across the ground, creating an even more ominous atmosphere in the shady area.

Heiwajima Shizuo was not happy.

"This place just reeks of that bastard." Shizuo said with a scowl. He spit out the toothpick he was idly chewing on so it landed somewhere in one of the garbage heaps nearby.

The blonde glared at the damage wrought in one of the shadier areas of Tokyo; the three little "gifts" left by none other than a certain vampire were especially eye-catching, but this old back alley was also littered with graffiti on the walls, empty beer cans on the ground, and garbage strewn haphazardly on the dirty floor. The summer heat seemed to make the image stagnate with every blurred moment. The grotesque stench filled the hunter's nostrils, not failing to give him a pounding headache. The large and bloody cracks in the walls also gave indication as to what had occurred here earlier, and lest his mind came up with any more ideas that may hinder his mission's progress, Shizuo looked out to the the entrance of the alley. He could see the bustle and movement of Ikebukuro night-life.

This - all of this - it was disgusting, Shizuo thought as he gazed out to the colorful light source. - But it was always disgusting. Sometimes he wondered why he contined working like this. It was not like him - bloodline and skill be damned: He wanted peace.

While he engaged in some inner debate about destiny and choice, Shizuo ruminated on the troubling fact before refocusing his gaze on the three bodies lying side by side, all burnt to a crisp in the center of the alley corridor so that their faces were unrecognizable.

Shizuo's eyes grew cold.

The corpses - there were two males and one female, and knowing Orihara Izaya, Shizuo knew that these people were connected in some way shape or form.

That monster.

Meanwhile, Tanaka Tom eyed the large blood splatters on the brick walls with thinly veiled curiosity. The pads of his fingers lightly caressed the liquid as if deciphering the markings like a blind man reading Braille - with expertise. He then removed his glasses and wiped them with a cloth procured from his suit pocket, all the while narrowing his eyes on the pattern and shape of the dark red stains.

"Yes. I can feel his presence here too." he said with a nod. The dread-lock wearing man turned around and crouched down to one of the bodies, placing a hand atop the burnt flesh and feeling the steady trace of warmth still emanating from the source.

"He was here three hours ago at the latest." Tom stated with finality as he turned his head upwards in order to gauge the irked blonde's reaction. Tom was ready for whatever reaction the blonde may produce: he'd gotten so used to the other man it pretty much became routine to do so. But luckily, his kouhai seemed to be working on his temper lately, and admittedly, Tom was proud. He should reward Shizuo some time for that. Perhaps a vacation...? Let's see...

Shizuo exhaled noisily through his nose, almost growling as he thumbed the trigger of his anti-vampire weapon in annoyance, eyes nearly slits behind his blue sunglasses. He really, really wanted to kill that fucking vampire. Izaya was the vampire who turned his own brother just to spite him.

Kasuka became even more elusive and emotionless after that.

He'll never forgive that bastard.

With a quick turn of his heel, Shizuo left the alley, not forgetting to thank his vampire hunting partner and best friend since high school with a nod.

"Let's get him." he said.

Tom smiled slightly and quickly caught up to Shizuo.

Namie paced back and forth in the dark apartment, thumb caressing the face of her brother Seiji through the glass of a picture frame. "If only you were mine forever..." she said softly. "Not that Mika bitch." And she cracked the glass, lines forming a spiderweb with Seiji's face at the center. A few drops of blood leaked onto the glass, covering his eyes temporarily, but the cuts on the pads of her finger healed within seconds.

Izaya chuckled from behind her ear and in response, Namie flinched and quickly turned around. Eyes dangerously narrowed and cold as ice, she glared at the other vampire, not caring to disguise the disgust and contempt she held for him.

"Since when did you get here?" she asked, accusation filtering through her voice.

"I was here for the past half hour." replied Izaya. He gave her a cheshire-cat grin, eyes sharper and brighter in the dark safety of the apartment, and aura more terrifying and powerful than ever. Namie almost shivered.

The female vampire huffed and removed the picture of her brother from the frame before tucking it into her long sleeve. "What are we going to do now?"

Izaya sauntered over to his computer chair, plopped into it and started spinning and spinning, eyes alight with something mischievous yet frightening at the same time. Namie gulped, but rolled her eyes at her master to mask her fear.

Then all of a sudden, Izaya stopped. He peered straight at Namie with an intensity that made her back stiffen and a shiver crawl uncomfortably down her spine.

"We're going to church."

This was disgusting. Horrifying.

Mikado whimpered as the tears fell from his eyes, trails of thick, red blood dripping down his chin and onto his uniform.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He killed an innocent man who was walking back from work, cut him from the strings of life and stole him from his family and friends.

He murdered to stay alive.

This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. Mikado said to himself. The mantra repeated over and over again in the chaos of his mind. He couldn't resist the thirst; his stomach felt like it was being ripped apart, his teeth were elongated and aching, his throat was as dry as sandpaper.

And his appearance.

Mikado wasn't one to care too much for appearance, but this time he did. He grew more and more frightened as days passed by, and he remembered gazing at that frightening monster in the mirror - eyes too bright, complexion almost white, gaunt almost saggy skin, nails long and animal-like - it was like he was staring at a living corpse in his reflection, with the addition of beastly body parts, of course.

Mikado hadn't left his apartment for days.

And once he did, he went to a church, some random one farther away from the city. He didn't believe in the Christian god or Jesus or the saints. But he always heard churches provided solace and safety from the everyday world. He hoped he could feel some of that peace. Plus, the art really was beautiful and tragic. He felt the crying statues were crying with him.

But once he saw a lone man walking home with a briefcase in hand, he didn't know what happened. The next thing he knew the man's screaming died down to whispers until nothing. The next thing he knew, warm blood was rushing down his throat, satisfying the deadly craving of his body, mind and soul. The next thing he knew, his mouth was clamped tightly on the man's cold neck.

Then he pushed himself away, tucked himself in a corner and rolled his body into a ball, bright blue eyes never straying from the dead body that he, himself, killed just a few moments ago.

'He's about the same age as my father.' Mikado realized with shame, and he buried his head in his tucked knees.

"Not too graceful, but that's okay." a voice said from his left.

Mikado whipped his head up at the sound, struggled up to his full height, and spun around, eyes crazed and fearful. "Who's there?" he said aloud, though the sound was muted. His eyes widened in realization, and his hands went up to his throat, grasping it as cold, stark fear shown in his blue eyes.

His voice was gone.

Izaya smirked at the teen before jumping out from behind the bushes to land gracefully in front of the young vampire. "Ryuugamine Mikado, right?" He didn't wait for a response, however. He knew who this kid was; he'd been studying this little fledgling for quite some time now.

Namie walked plainly from behind a nearby tree while dusting her dark clothing with one hand. She stared straight at the newly turned vampire. Mikado flinched involuntarily.

"Yeah, yeah. This is the kid you've been keeping tags on." she said offhandedly. She pulled out a picture from her pocket and compared the smiling boy in the picture to the horrified one in front of her. "Yup. That's him alright." And she threw the paper to Izaya who caught it without turning around or twisting his body.

Smiling, Izaya burned the picture until traces of paper fell from his hands, landing in a pile of dark ash at his feet. Mikado backed away, his mouth moving quickly, his head shaking side to side as if he was in denial. Izaya chuckled warmly at the sight and stepped closer and closer to the teen until the two of them were blanketed by the shadow of the church builiding. Namie crossed her arms and stood watch with a disgruntled look on her face.

"Now, I have an offer for you Mikado-kun." he said, hands playing with the flick blade he was so fond of. He kept his eyes trained on the boy whose back was flat against the wall. Then Izaya stepped a little closer so he was two feet away from the younger vampire. "I'm going to let you speak now, so act like the good, mature representative you really are, okay?"

Mikado didn't like being restricted from doing something as mundane as talking. Plus, this guy was powerful. Mikado could literally feel his power tickling his skin, and for some strange reason he knew. He knew this man standing in front of him was one powerful vampire. It was unnerving, eerie, but Mikado nodded to show he accepted the conditions. His eyes were guarded and cautious, like he was expecting an attack from the other at any given moment.

Izaya clapped his hands in joy, nearly jumping up and down in glee; he really was happy too. He didn't feel like having a one-sided conversation. He'd had a lot of those with Namie already, practically on a day-to-day basis.

"Let's see," the older dark-haired vampire said with a smile. "Oh right! Would you like to join our little vampire coven, Mikado-kun? It's just Namie," he pointed at the bored-looking woman standing in the pale moonlight-...And that's when Mikado realized she was beautiful, scarily beautiful. Was it because this Namie woman was a vampire...? "-and me. We'd be a small happy family. So what do you say, hmm? You'll pretty much work for me too, so don't worry, you'll also get paid sometimes. But the jobs I will give you will only come on a rare basis. Sounds good, right?"

Mikado could do nothing but stare and trace his face from the handsome man in front of him to the beautiful woman not too far away.

He coughed a little, voice raspy before asking, "U-umm. Sorry, but what's your name?"

Izaya pulled back and slipped the blade back into his pocket. He grinned at the stuttering boy before saying with pride, "Orihara Izaya." He stuck his hand out to shake the other's hand, and broke out into a wider grin when Mikado slowly put his smaller one on top of his.

They shook hands.

Mikado's blue eyes looked anywhere than at Izaya's calculating and mischievous red ones. They were too much to handle, too eerie and frightening like they were looking through your soul and ripping it apart. His gaze kept darting around the scenery. A contemplative look passed his face - a serious one at that, which looked as if he were composed and concentrationg.

Izaya was pleased.

Just a moment ago, Mikado was trembling like a leaf, afraid of everything that moved, but now he was the total opposite. He was a smart kid, unpredictable too. An excellent trickster, though the kid wouldn't know that himself until later...

Ryuugamine Mikado would be the perfect piece. The perfect tool and the perfect subordinate. If he played his cards right, Izaya could influence this kid into something powerful and useful. Mikado had all the right components, and he was young enough to mold properly with his own two hands.

Plus, blame it on intuition or something of the sort, but Izaya had a feeling he needed this kid on his side. If that Kuronuma Aoba brat ever got a hold of him...

Izaya focused his attention on the reluctant Mikado when -.

"I accept your offer, Orihara-san." the teen said, somewhat back to normal - whatever normal was for the newly turned vampire. He couldn't stop staring at the dead body a few feet away from him, though: his first kill. Izaya followed that gaze and chuckled at the gaping chunk of flesh missing from the man's neck, or whatever was left of it. What a waste of blood...he thought with just the barest sense of sadness.

But that'll change in due time.

"Welcome to the family, Mikado-kun."

Mikado smiled hesitantly. Izaya grinned a closed-eye grin, smile stretching from ear to ear, and Namie released an amused chuckle.

"Interesting..." she said to herself as she eyed the pair of vampires that could pass as being related by blood.

What game is Izaya up to now?

Shizuo's anti-vampire gun was slung heavily over his shoulder. He made sure to stay in the shadows - like those fucking vampires and werewolves - in order to stay clear of any prying eyes as he and Tom made there way out of the city.

If only he could catch that Izaya bastard...

Then he smelled it. He smelled the fucking flea. Smells like shit if you asked him.

He stopped in his tracks and waited for Tom to stop beside him. With his eyes set straight in the direction his instincts were telling him, he grunted, "I know where he is."

Tom released the cigarette smoke he was inhaling and tapped the cancer stick so ashes fell to the ground. "Yeah. Me too."

"How the hell can you smell the dude?" a voice asked from behind the pair of seasoned vampire hunters.

Shizuo and Tom turned to the source of the sound at exactly the same time. Tom's eyebrow was curved in amusement. "That's 'cause we have experience, kid."

Kida Masaomi scowled, but held the silver handgun loosely in his hand as he emerged from a bush. The blonde caught up with the pair before sliding the gun to its holster underneath his white hoodie.

"Will I be like that when I'm a little older?"

Shizuo turned to completely face the other blonde. He said gruffly, "You'll age fast in this world, that's for sure. You gotta trust your instincts, not just your mind. But yeah, you gotta trust in your mind too...uhh-what else?" The hunter scratched his head. "Sorry. I'm not that good at this stuff." Shizuo laughed at himself before moving the gun on his shoulder and shuffling his weight a bit.

Tom laughed merrily and placed a hand on the young hunter's shoulder. "Don't worry. This is a dangerous mission, yes, but the best way to learn is first-hand-experience, right?"

Masaomi nodded mutely. He didn't fear this Izaya guy...

...Okay. Maybe he did. After all, that vampire murdered his girlfriend, Saki. There was no doubt about that.

Why though? Why her?

Masaomi had no idea, no clue. He just hated the time when he returned home one day, expecting Saki to greet him with that familiar smile of hers. But she was gone. A few tense days later, her corpse was found: one of her legs was completely torn from her body and her neck was covered in her own blood. It was a group of other vampire hunters - Kadota Kyohei and his gang - that confirmed the mystery of her death as a vampire attack.

He didn't believe it at first - who would? - but the facts pointed to that single, then-outrageous conclusion.

The result of the ordeal was Kida Masaomi vowing to get revenge. He just hoped he wouldn't run away again.

With a sigh, Masaomi put a bright, determined smile on his face and moved to stand on Shizuo's left. Tom was on his right. They looked off into the distance, three pairs of eyes set on the dark sky and ominous moon accompanied by thousands of glittering stars.

The same thought rang clear through their heads.

"Kill Orihara Izaya."

Namie was surprised at how quickly this Mikado kid could switch on and off like a light switch. It was kind of creepy actually; he reminded her of a young Izaya, but with less psychotic tendencies. Though that can't be quite decided yet. She just met the kid.

Izaya was in happy spirits, and asked the two members of his coven if they wanted to hunt, get something to drink. Namie was already full. Izaya didn't drink a lot, but she knew he didn't have to; it had to do with his age. Vampires relied less and less on blood as they get older, but their power and blood richness increased granting them more devastating skills and abilities.

Izaya never shared his blood - not that she knew of - ; Namie was aware that he didn't want to give anyone his power. He's a control freak, in a way, Namie thought idly as she saw Mikado's face twitch in pain at the thought of more blood - but at the same time, he likes watching from the sidelines. He's a manipulative bastard and a good one at that.

But no matter what, it all leads up to one conclusion.

Izaya is crazy.

Period.

All of a sudden, a metallic bullet shot right past her ear, landing in the tree bark near her head. Eyes widening, she quickly crawled up the tree and crouched in the safety of its leaves and branches, hissing and observing the situation. Shouting filled the air and guns were blazing. Mikado, the new kid, squeaked and ducked as a blonde man almost ran into him. Some guy with a cigarette in his mouth was putting up some charms that she knew were going to be used to weaken vampires. His chants were growing faster and faster, and her mind was growing hazier and hazier. With a snarl, Namie jumped out the tree and landed on the man that she realized was Tanaka Tom, a famed vampire hunter. Namie's nails elongated and she scratched at his face and bit into his neck - once, twice, three times -all in different areas, satisfied at the crack sounds that reached her ears like music.

Eyes bright from the scent of blood, Namie spit in the man's face, splattering it in red, before running to the other two members of her coven. She figured the man would die from bloodloss. Namie didn't enjoy killing as much as Izaya did. She felt it was tasteless. She only did it when she drained people to death, thinking 'it's a life for a life', take a life and add it to hers.

Izaya, on the other hand...

She quickly dashed to the other fights, watched from the sidelines and inspecting for any sly hunters that may be hiding somewhere ready to attack.

The cowards.

...

... ...

'Oh..?' she spotted something in particular behind the church wall.

'Who's that blonde kid?'