"So what do you truly want to do with your life? Are you really as apathetic as you wish to appear? I think not." As Kitiara concentrated on not trembling and looking her oppressor boldly in the eye, the soft voice accompanied with a streak of malice spoke the words yet again, only this time she could detect the slightest bit of intrigue that had previously escaped her. "Well? Will you answer me or not?" She felt the cold, pale hand that was stronger than it appeared press firmly on her mouth as the stranger's other hand slowly tied her wrists together, behind her back. A dainty midnight blue handkerchief suddenly made its way from his breast pocket to her mouth, allowing the hand that had been covering her mouth to go free. She cried out, struggling to the best of her ability, but in vain. Having nothing else to do, she started examine the odd actions of her tormenter, and slowly, but ever so surely, what he seemed to be doing started to fascinate her.

It was almost as if he was bustling around her room, taking an inventory on her values, friends, interests, lifestyle; everything that might contribute to the forming of her personality. A notebook was forcefully shoved within Kitiara's eyesight and as she read what it said; even as the powerful figure continued to add fact after fact to the ever growing list. The headline sported her name in large curly script; Kitiara Meredith Pantaliman, Nickname: Kit, with almost every detail of her life documented into neat, evenly-spaced categories. The maniacal man had recorded much more than she had thought possible, even thinking to add a master list containing "Contributing Experiences to Personality From Birth".

Set in the top right hand corner were some letters spelling the word "directions" neatly contained within a 3 by 3 border in the shape of a box. According to the directions, Kit was supposed to read the whole notebook, then put a check in the box to verify that the content was authentic. As she turned to the man, questions poised in her eyes, he slowly unsheathed a sleek smooth stiletto knife form his side, waved it at her, and pointed it at the small box on the fragile paper. Kit, now rightfully terrified out of her wits, wildly shook her head yes, her long russet hair entangling itself into one giant mass. She started frantically grabbing behind her for a writing utensil and upon finding none, started to let a rush of pure, utter, panic gush out of her in a raging torrent. The man then swiftly crossed the distance between them, pushing a pencil into her sweaty palms. Kit thrusted all her effort into breathing regularly as the knife lingeringly severed the bonds securing her hands, the rope rapidly moving down to her legs, ensuring that she could easily make a check mark, but making any attempt at escape a futile waste of time.

Realizing the hopelessness of her situation, Kit grudgingly grasped the notebook and started carefully reading through it. Kit's anger and resentment at this shadowy stalker grew page by page, word by word, until it was all she could do to keep the motions of reading alive, regardless of where her mind was. Kitiara was not one to be at the mercy of a mysterious stranger; no, she had read too many horror novels for that. She was a strong person, stronger than even she knew. Possibilities of escape consumed her brain, with each and every scenario that could occur slowly taking shape in the private recesses of her mind. As soon as one was punctured with reality, another was already halfway conceived, impatiently waiting for its turn.

"Is this an answer to my question little girl? I'm not quite sure it is," he mused, completely shattering Kit's train of thought. She was confused. Of course, she had a right to be confused about everything that was going on, but what bothered her most was the fact that she didn't think she had spoken at all, let alone given an answer to his now almost forgotten question. Now that she felt a little more in control than before, she realized things about him that had previously eluded her. His voice, for example; its timbre was oddly multi-dimensional, having an eerie resounding affect that left it clinging to the walls. Now, as she studied him, she noticed that he was wearing a hooded overcoat, making his face and every other part of his body, for that matter, hidden from view; a fact that only made him even more menacing. "Yes, that's right Lovely; you finally seem to be realizing that I may not be all that I appear. Just continue to read the notebook, and all will be revealed in time. And for the present, just keep all of those nasty escape ideas out of your head, though I admit, they are very imaginative and well-planned out. The cold, hard truth of it is, Honey, that this is the end of the life you knew, and the beginning of something well… something a little more adventurous to say the least."

Kit sat in sheer terror, total stupefaction on the verge of taking hold; she knew she hadn't said anything this time. Suddenly, without any provoke, the man turned sharply toward the window which was slowly getting lighter, and seemed to be getting anxious. He crossed the room in one bound and instantaneously gripped Kit's wrist, too fast for her eyes to follow. She stared up at him in horror, her heart now pounding louder than her very thoughts.

"Now we must go Precious.", he whispered, almost too softly for Kit's ears. "But I can't have you awake during the journey. It's not a long way really, but I can't have you roaming about my home later while I'm asleep though, can I? No, that won't do. Let me just tell you now, when you wake up you will not be in a preferable position, in your opinion at least. Sweet dreams, Princess."

Kit's already cracked walls against cowardness finally broke, right then and there, leaving her no time to think or act before their demise. Kit just simply blacked out at the mere terror of the situation, for she had ideas about whom, or more accurately what, this man could be and it had frightened her to the brink of passing out, which eventually she did. But if she had been awake, the next few actions of the man would've fit her suspicion perfectly, and though she couldn't feel it when the man bent over her neck, carefully piercing the flesh with two exceedingly sharp teeth, she'd know exactly what was happening. She didn't move as her life force slowly transferred into him, and she didn't notice it when he pulled away, leaving her with slow, forceful, breathing. But had she been awake she would've known that he would pick her up, and haul her into the night skies, away from all the people that she loved. But even awake, Kitiara Meredith Pantaliman couldn't ever fathom how fantastical her fate was to be.