They tell me to start from the beginning.
I
ask how far back they want me to go, because to understand everything that's
happened and my relations to the others, you've got to have some insight to my
past.
So they tell me to explain everything, every little thought that has
crossed my mind. I tell them I can't, because I rarely know what I'm thinking in
the first place. So, being the ever-so-concerned souls that they are, they told
me to write everything down. Not necessarily my thoughts, but more or less just
what happened. Not that I'd ever have to show it to them if I didn't want to
(thank God for that, I'd probably get myself killed if I did so), but it'd
supposedly make me feel better.
Yeah right.
When you've got the death of a
loved one hanging over your shoulder, no matter how much you write, it's not
going to help. So, I told them what I just told you, I refused. But they were
persistent little buggers and sat me down, gave me paper and pencil and told me
to get to writing. So, here goes
I can't believe I'm still here. I can't
come up with any logical reasons as to why I should stay. I've tried. Nothing
here is really worth my devotion. That's what I keep telling myself, anyway.
But I know that's bullshit. I just don't know why I try to convince myself
otherwise. Maybe I'm afraid of actually tying myself down to a group of people
and a place.
After all, it couldn't be that bad. But it'd sure be first for
me since God knows when. Call me paranoid, call me a recluse, call me whatever
you damn well please. Call me chicken shit if it floats your boat.
You see,
I've tried this whole "open to the world and everything in it" bit, and what did
it get me? Nothing but scars that keep me from wearing shorts and short sleeve
shirts. Then what did they go and do? They, being my family. They abandoned me!
My family just up and left me! Love ya, smack ya, leave ya. That must be their
motto. I don't remember them real well, there are no faces, no specific voices,
just actions. They used to adore me, you know?
Cuddle me, play with me and
tell me I was beautiful. Then for some reason they turned on me. Fucking turned
on a five year-old. They'd beat the hell outta me then blame it on the dog.
Then, I remember one day they were just gone. Left me alone with my cuts and
bruises and went to God knows where.
Perhaps they're dead. Maybe it was me
who killed them. Maybe they loved me till they figured out what I really was, me
being too young to understand, and started to smack me around in fear. People
always say that humans fear what they do not understand. And you know what? I
believe that with every bit of my little black heart.
But as I was saying,
maybe they beat me senseless because I scared them witless. And then maybe, just
maybe, one day I snapped and sucked the life right out of them like a coke
slush. After all, I've been known to do that from time to time.
In fact, I'm
pretty sure that's what happened. It makes perfect sense, you know.
So now
I'm a murderer at the ripe old age of fifteen. And it didn't end with my family.
There were others, others who were mean and deserved it. But I'll never be
caught or go to jail. After all, what are they going to say? "She looked at him
and he crumpled to the ground like a rag doll"? I think they're more likely to
get hauled away to the funny farm before I go to the slammer.
But as bad as
that sounds, that was life. Run, hide, eat, sleep, and kill if you have to, then
start the whole process all over again. There is no time for remorse when you
have a life like that. And as for nightmares, I hardly sleep at all and when I
do all there is, is blackness. I don't dream. I'm pretty grateful for that much.
Because if I did dream, all it'd ever be is nightmares.
But as I said, I
don't sleep much. On a normal night you can find me either with my friends,
perched on a barstool at Sally's, or lurking in the dark corners of a back ally,
looking for energy with my name on it. Now, I'm sure you're thinking, "What the
hell? This child is outside her head." So maybe I should back up a bit here.
Hang tight, this gets a bit rough and sounds absolutely absurd, so I don't want
to lose anybody. But hey, if you can't handle absurd, that's okay. It's not like
need you to believe me, anyway.
Remember my family?
Yeah them.
The
ones I killed at age five. Wonder how I did it? Wonder how I killed all those
others without getting caught? It's not what you expect, hell, I didn't even
know such things existed till I saw them with my own eyeballs.
Now, don't
laugh, don't groan, and don't start contemplating on how to get me into a
straight jacket, it can't be done. It may sound completely insane, cliché, and
even a bit corny. Take your pick.
But truth is truth. I am a vampire. And
not the kind you're thinking of, either. If you've got those cheesy horror movie
Dracula's in mind, I hate to burst your bubble (not really, but it sounds better
that way you know?) but those are just figments of a director's over-active
imagination.
Sure, they got a few things right. Like fangs. I've got those,
tiny little buggers, but they're damn sharp and especially painful if you bite
your tongue.
Ouch.
Oh, and I'm sure this will make you feel lots better.
I can and I do romp around in broad daylight. So there.
And by the way. Will
you just forget about the turn-into-a-bat trick? We're vampires, not aliens.
Shows you how much humans know, doesn't it? What they don't know they make
up. Yeah, that sounds about right. This should set things straight. Here's a
quick lesson. Pay attention.
There is no generic vampire. Just like
everything else, there are different types with different characteristics.
First, you have your Classics, those would be the Undead ones, the ones
turned vampire right before they died. Those feed off blood, feel weak during
the day, and live for a long time.
Then you have your Inheritors who are
considered Classical but inherit their vampiric nature (thus the name
Inheritors), and this comes in two classes.
Class One is almost exactly like
the Undead, except they were born into vampirism.
Class Two is basically the
best thing you could be as far as vampires go. You heal quicker, you are
completely immune from the sun, you still drink blood, you can regenerate lost
organs or body parts, and you are as close to immortal as it comes.
Note,
close. Nothing is truly immortal.
Nothing.
Then, there's the
Psychic-vampire a.k.a. Psi-vamp.
That would be me.
This means I do NOT
drink blood. I can take in peoples' life sources and the energy of the things
around me as nourishment. Makes me sound like a pretty wimpy vampire, now
doesn't it? Yeah, tell that to the people I've killed with a single glance.
Now, once that part of the world, the supernatural side, comes into light
for you, just about everything you've ever known goes spiraling down the tubes
in one big ol' Technicolor mess. That's what happened for me, anyway. But now, I
just have to wonder how I went through all those years without even suspecting
what is now the obvious.
If it weren't for my kiss (that's what a group of
vampires is called) I probably would have went through all my life living in
total ignorance for what I was. When I was twelve years old, I met my first
fellow Psi-vamp. Or more accurately, I didn't meet her, she scared the living
hell out of me, made my world do a complete one eighty, then introduced herself.
Her name is Lucrezia Noin and I owe her my life. She's the one that
originally informed me that I wasn't just some psychic freak and actually
classified as a vampire.
She's also the one who brought me into the kiss,
giving me a home and finally a real family.
My family consists of five
members, each rather different from each other in their vampiric natures, but
most are some sort of Psi-vamp.
First off, there's Zechs, our somewhat
leader, he can be harsh, but by God he knows what he's doing.
And there's
Noin, his girlfriend, that lucky chick. There are quite a bit of people who envy
her because of that.
And who could leave out Relena, Zechs' little sister.
Can't forget her because she just might kill ya if you did.
And there's also
Meiran, who, like myself, has no relation to them, just someone they've managed
to pick up along the way.
Then there's yours truly.
We're a pretty tight
knit group, which is very odd, because vampires normally like to be alone. But I
don't classify myself as normal. I've gotten to where I depend on having people
around me. Without my kiss I would probably be lying cold and dead in an ally or
in a loony bin, complaining that the winged rabbits flying around my head are
being mean to me.
They snapped me out of my destructive lifestyle just in
time. But I can't credit everything to them.
Duo did a bang-up job of
fitting broken pieces back into place.
That's partly because he's pretty
experienced with the notion of picking up and moving on. From what little I can
get out of him I can easily tell that he's had the hardest life out of anyone
I've ever known, or ever will, and yet he still has that silly grin plastered on
his lips.
One can't help but love him in some way. There's no escaping him.
His personality sucks you right in. Yeah, I'll admit that I'm so far gone for
him that it's not even funny.
No point in denying it.
But that doesn't
mean I'll act on it. I've got my reasons.
I wish Duo were here right this
very minute.
Actually I wish ANYONE were here now, because I'm seriously
contemplating triple homicide. It's either that or suicide.
Why? Because as I
speak, I'm undergoing the absolute worst form of torture imaginable.
Babysitting.
Need I say more?
"David! Get off your brother! You're making him cry!"
I ordered from across the tiny apartment at the five year-old who was inspecting
the durability of his little brother.
It was nothing serious, but just enough
to send the little spawn of Satan-er-I mean, boy, into a fit of screams and
squalls.
I hate little kids.
They bring out the worst in me. It's hard
to believe I ever was one. How their mother can make it through each day without
wringing the life right out of them is beyond me.
And how Cathy can make them
as tame as kittens is a superhuman feat.
You see she's their normal
babysitter, but she had to step out for a moment, that's why I'm here. I have no
clue where she went, no clue why she went, but she went and left me here, all by
myself, with these demonic children.
I swear, right now, that I shall NEVER
have kids. Ever!
"Hilly!!"
"It's Hilde," I growled threateningly,
clenching my teeth as to not let any colorful language slip out.
"Hill~y!!"
I threw my hands up in defeat. I was getting no where and arriving earlier than
expected.
"She bit me! Make her be sorry!" Can't they keep their hands to
themselves?! I can't handle all of them at once!
"Hilly?!"
"Miss Hidey?"
How hard is it to say "Hilde"?? It's not like it's the most complicated name
there is!
"Miss Hidey, David is pulling on Noah's ears!"
"Am not! You're
a tattle-tale!"
Must
"Miss Hidey! He called me a tattle-tale!"
Not
"See! See!"
Kill.
"Miss Hidey!!" One, two, three, four, fi- aw,
screw it!
"ENOUGH!!!! SHUT UP!!!" I could feel my blood pulsing in my
eardrums, which is never a good thing, mind you. But my explosion apparently did
SOME good, because that entire apartment was hush still.
Well kinda.
"David, I think you broke her," whispered the little girl to her brother.
Both of their faces looked so shocked it was priceless.
Point, for me.
"Uh-uh! You did," he hissed back.
As I was beginning to feel the blood
flow in my cheeks start to drop down to normal, there came a gentle \tap, tap\
through the shut door.
Both kids and baby perked up to the sound, eyes wide
with anticipation.
The aforementioned saint herself entered to my rescue,
and bringing reinforcements, might I add.
Oh wait, nevermind. I wouldn't
count the other one as Calvary.
Cathy stood in the light of the open doorway
with Relena peering past her shoulder.
Note I didn't say over. Neither of us
is near tall enough to perform that trick.
"Cathy!! Cathy, you SAVED us!!"
Little David made a mad dash for her outstretched arms, nearly knocking her
down.
She wrapped him up in a hug and smiled down at him sweetly, like he
was the most wonderful little angel heaven had ever seen.
I felt my stomach
wrench and I had to turn away from the rather disgusting scene.
Equally
revolted, Relena squeezed past the couple and made her way over to me, being
extraordinarily careful as to not step on a toy carelessly discarded to the
floor.
"He broke Miss Hidey!!" Nearly taking Relena out, though a very
humorous scene it would make, the girl blundered over to Cathy and her brother,
tears brimming in her little eyes.
As soon as she caught her balance again,
Relena arched an eyebrow in my direction and smirked a smirk she'd only smirk if
she were about to become a major pain in the ass.
Which is not a hard thing
to do on her part, but that makes no difference. I was not in the mood.
"Don't even think about it." My tone was rather deadly, which was just
perfect to keep her trap shut for a while.
I sauntered over to the family's
couch in order to lay down, rest, and bask in my tiny victory. I collapsed onto
the wonderfully soft cousins, you know, the kind you can just sink into, propped
my feet up on one armrest and cradled my neck with the other.
Aaaa,
heavenly.
This earned me a disapproving glower from Relena.
That was
just icing on the cake. Now if only those little kids would just disappear,
things would be perfect!
Of course, I should have known better than to think
it would actually last for more than five minutes.
"Hilde!" It never fails.
As soon as I get comfortable, somebody wants something.
I craned my neck
till my field of vision was no longer the crack filled ceiling but now the
upside-down Chinese figure of Ron Meiran.
She looked frighteningly pale.
"What?" She took a second to compose herself and straighten out any wrinkles
she had in her clothes. I don't know why, but she's always got to be so damn
perfect.
I don't get it.
"Meiran, you're looking a bit on the pale side.
How long has it been since you've fed?"
She shot me a look that told me it
was a tender subject in which I tread. Apparently, it had been awhile. I'd be
certain to fix that once night fell.
"That's not it."
"Well, are you
going to tell me or should I guess? Let's see, you walked in on Zechs and Noin,
is that it? Now I can see why you look so frazzled!"
"Hilde!" I strained my
eyes to my left, the direction in which the unnerving screech had come from.
Relena's eye was twitching, which is her involuntary reaction to the bringing up
that particular subject about her brother.
Not that I blame her, or
anything. I sure as hell wouldn't want to picture my brother and his girlfriend
like that.
She must have walked in on some pretty awful things to attain
that nice little twitch of hers.
"No that is not it! Can't you be serious
for once?" I just grinned at the upside-down pig tailed girl, knowing full well
that it'd just piss her off. "Come on," she grumbled in frustration, turning
away to wait for me to haul my tired ass off the ever-so comfortable couch.
My, I was just getting on everybody's nerves today! Mission accomplished.
Very reluctantly, very VERY reluctantly, I relieved the couch of my weight
and headed for the door, dragging my feet all the way.
Lemme say one thing.
That couch of theirs is addictive.
I need one.
As I was innocently
waving "good bye" to now child bound Cathy, I was caught unawares by a high
pitched and somewhat whiney request.
"Wait for me!" I pretended not to hear
her, rather hard to pull off, mind you. Let's see you try to not wince or cringe
at Relena's voice. It's next to impossible I tell you!
I didn't have to
travel far to get to where Meiran had wondered off to, not far at all. Just a
couple doors down actually to where she was standing. All I saw was Duo and
Sally each packing a box into a room that, for all I knew, had been empty for
months. I couldn't help myself. I called Duo's name to get his attention and
smiled brightly like a complete idiot.
What can I say? I love him. I was
finally satisfied when he grinned and winked at me.
Man, if I could just
erase the whole little kid incident, this day would be just perfect.
"If you
are quite done." I was brought back to the land of the living by Meiran's
slightly irritated growl.
"Yes, yes. Now, what IS it?" I heard Relena
finally catch up with us, and she wasn't alone. Cathy had joined us, being the
curious type she is. I turned to her and asked, "Don't you have a couple of wild
Indians to look after?"
"They're asleep." She responded simply. Damn it,
some people get all the luck.
"Look there." Meiran jerked her thumb in the
direction I had spotted Duo. But Duo wasn't there anymore, neither was Sally. It
was someone new, someone I had never seen before.
"That must be the new
tenant I heard about. What IS he wearing?" Cathy wasn't the only one boggled by
the stranger's odd apparel.
In fact, I think Meiran was the only one who
didn't squint or wrinkle her nose at the rather "different" sight.
It was a
rather tall wiry framed boy with moppy dark brown hair, and cold blue eyes.
Creepy if you ask me. But of course I didn't heed that normally useful hunch
and was busily wondering if he was well in the head due to his, um fashion
statement.
He wore a loose hunter green tank top which I normally don't find
to be too out of the ordinary, but he wore his top tucked into a pair of sleek
black spandex shorts.
Pardon me, but one normally doesn't find that
entourage. Last person I saw in spandex was Batman, and this sure as hell WASN'T
Batman.
He turned his head to look at us, and to tell ya the truth, I half
expected his head to keep going around and around, you know cheap horror flick
stuff. I really don't know if that would have scared me or not. I probably would
have grinned then shouted "Cool!" or something, then insist he teach me how to
do it. I've seen too many bad movies.
But, as you can see, it's hard to
scare me, because I have seen and felt the worst of the worst. I am a vampire,
after all. But all of that was nothing compared to what I felt when his eyes
locked with mine. A cold, eerie, sensation creeped down the nape of my neck and
over my shoulders, leaving a ghostly trail of tingles in its wake. Lemme just
say this now, bleh!
"That's a vampire." I hissed in order to keep those
words between my friends and I.
No need and announcing to him that I knew
exactly what he was just yet.
"A Bloodist." Meiran confirmed, hushing her
own voice to match mine.
I hadn't been too sure about that part at first,
but I did notice a rather familiar pitch in his energy aura.
But if course
Meiran had spotted that detail right off the bat, and for good reason, too. You
see she's the only Bloodist in our kiss. And I'm sure you're smart enough to
figure out what exactly the vampiric term "Bloodist" means, it's not that hard.
"But how can you tell?"
"Cathy, a vampire can just tell when it comes to
that. Even a normal vampire without psychic powers can read that much into
things," Relena bit out, not even bothering to hide the bitterness in her voice.
"So that means, he knows you guys are-" Cathy was cut off by her own gasp
when the stranger narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth at us, his pearly white
fangs shining through beautifully.
"Does that answer your question?"
I
decided right then and there that I wasn't exactly fond of him.
First of
all, just the way he came across creeped me out.
Second, he insisted on
edging that sentiment further by bearing his fangs.
And on top of that he
had to be a nutcase if he casually wore spandex.
I mean, even Batman wore
normal clothes sometimes!
I reached behind me and grabbed hold of a fistful
of blonde Relena hair, and yanked till I had pulled her face between Meiran and
I.
"Alright, you're the complete psychic freak, please inform us inferiors
what the hell is going through this boy's head."
Hey, I might be classified
as a Psychic-vampire, and I'm able to psychically drain others, but that doesn't
mean I can poke around in peoples minds and read their thoughts.
But now,
Relena can, and that's about the only thing she's good for.
Yet another
thing frightened me, which makes two in less than five minutes.
Not good.
Relena's face paled over like her blood had just drained away. Surely, she
couldn't have poked upon anything too serious, right?
Wrong!
"He's a
hunter," she whispered, her complexion still unnatural.
"What do you mean a
hunter? You just called him a vampire!"
"He's both. He hunts others of his
own kind to prove his superiority in the ultimate ego trip. In other words, I'll
bet he's one haughty S.O.B."
My suspicions were confirmed when I found him
pointing us with his index finger and thumb out, his other three fingers curled
up to resemble a hand gun. His palm simulated the kick of a gun after firing and
he brought his hand up till the only things in his line of fire were the ceiling
tiles.
