Chapter 1

The sound of thunder echoed throughout the deserted woods as I swiftly weaved around trees and bushes. Moving in the darkness was a challenge, but I let the sporadic lightning strikes of the summer storm guide me to what I hoped would be safety. My breathing was erratic; the humidity from the storm made it nearly impossible to breathe. Although stopping is something that could have cost me my life, I collapsed against a tree, needing to regain some energy. I panted and dug my nails violently into the mud around me as I gasped for air. In my peripheral vision, I could see the blood oozing out of the large gash on my forearm. I brought my hand to the gash and hissed in pain as I applied pressure to the wound. My breathing ceased as I heard them drawing nearer. I had to move.

I began running again and felt several rocks slice my bare feet. I stumbled and almost fell but didn't stop, knowing what would happen if they caught me. They were too close to me now. I looked around, noting possible ways I could escape, but found none. No matter which way I ran, they would find me. They always did. I finally came to the realization that I couldn't outrun them. I would have to fight.

My eyes darted around the area. A few hundred feet away from me, there was a tree with low enough branches to climb. I ran for it, jumped and let my hands grasp a limb. With much effort, I pulled myself up. The limb was wide enough that I could lie perfectly flat, so I rolled onto my back, feeling my backpack full of worn clothes and my essential supplies press against me. My hand moved for the holster attached to my hip and I pulled out the gun. I heard them drawing closer and held my breath. Slowly, I rolled onto my stomach and leaned over the branch just a few inches so they wouldn't be able to see me in the darkness. I cocked the gun and let my finger slide down to the trigger, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

I heard twigs snap and looked down to see that the two wolves were below me. I aimed at the first, knowing that it wouldn't expect what I was about to do. As I pulled the trigger, the bullet flew with impeccable speed and logged itself into the wolf's cranium. The second wolf barely had time to register what happened when it received a bullet into its head. The two shots rang throughout the woods and I waited until their echo stopped to climb down from the tree.

By the time my feet touched the ground, the wolves had already turned back into their human form. "Fucking werewolves," I sighed as I slid my gun back into the small holster. I looked around the desolate area and decided that I would head west. Once again, I ran through the darkness and stayed close to the shadows. Sometimes, it felt like the shadows were my only salvation in this hell that had become my life.

I ran for what felt like miles until my feet scraped across the pavement of the two-car road. I walked on the shoulder just in case I needed to duck back into the dark woods. In the distance, I saw lights, alerting me that I was nearing civilization.

I sighed as I saw the sign of the city I was in.

Shreveport.

I was where I needed to be.

It didn't take me long to find a small motel on the outskirts of the town. I entered the compact lobby and my eyes didn't meet those of the man behind the counter. I could only imagine how odd I looked to him.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked, with shock and curiosity in his voice.

"I need a room," I replied, altogether ignoring his question. I assume I looked intimidating, or maybe it was out of sheer shock on his behalf because he slid a key across the counter along with a sign in sheet.

"You won't have to pay till you check out, but guests have to sign in."

I used the pen sitting on the counter and scribbled my name. Carson Gardner.

I grabbed my key and looked down at the engraved seven. It made me think of my birthday; I was born in July. I was in my 28th year, but ever since I had transitioned; I had stopped counting my birthdays.

I headed for the room and looked around at the dark sky. I could no longer hear the sounds of thunder or see the short glimpses of lightning. The night was silent now except for the faint chirps of crickets. I stepped in a few puddles on my way to the room with the red door. I slid the key into the hole and turned the knob. The room was dark, but somehow comforting; I was used to the darkness. I felt on the wall for the light switch and the room was instantly illuminated. The room was small and consisted of a full bed, a chair and a television set. The bathroom was small as well. I made my way into the bathroom first and began stripping off my dirty and torn clothes, placing my gun and the holster to the side and throwing my backpack on the floor. I turned on the ancient bathtub and stepped inside. The lukewarm water felt good on my skin and I meticulously scrubbed off the dirt and blood off my body and my feet. The gash on my arm and the other wounds I had sustained in the chase had already healed. One of the perks of being immortal…you healed quickly. After draining the bathtub several times, I deemed myself as clean.

My bath had caused the small room to fill with steam and I brought my hand to the mirror and wiped off the vapor.

I stared in awe at my appearance, mesmerized by the fact that in the eight years since my transitioning, I hadn't aged at all.

My black hair was wild and rippled down my shoulders and back. My skin was scared, yet nearly translucent and the contrast with my skin and my hair made me look almost ghostlike. It had been nearly two years since I had looked in a mirror. I had forgotten the severe and electric shade of blue that my eyes are. Beneath my eyes were large dark circles that had grown more prominent with the less and less sleep I got. After everything that had occurred, I was convinced that sleeping for long periods of time wasn't safe. I was scared of not waking up again.

I moved to the chair next to the bed and pulled my fingers through my wet hair and reached into my backpack and pulled on some clean clothes—a pair of jeans and a black v-neck—along with a pair of socks and old Converse. I began plotting my next move, but to be honest, I never planned what I'd do once I got back to Louisiana

I never thought I'd make it back here to the city I had called home for a brief period of time. I assumed something or someone would kill me before I got the chance. After running for so long, I began to feel numb…and thought that someone would be me. Only recently did I begin to feel depressed. The feeling of hopelessness began to set in when I was at the California border. For the first time in two years, I thought I was free. I thought that the wolves were no longer looking for me, searching for something that had been lost before I was even born. But I was wrong. Still, I never quite understood what I was running from. I only knew that I was being hunted by forces I could not control. They wanted me, so much so that they have been chasing me for years. I tried not to imagine what would happen if they ever caught me. But I believed that it would be a fate worse than death, seeing that as far as I knew, I couldn't die.

A wolf was the first creature that tried to kill me and I can still remember how scared I was. The second creature that tried to kill me was a vampire and this happened when I returned to Los Angeles, believing that I had left all the drama back in Shreveport. I let my head fall into my hands and reminisced about that second encounter.

When I had first seen him, I immediately stopped in my tracks. I was shocked by his appearance and presence in the isolated area. I remember that it didn't take me long to figure out what he was or to discover the motive for the craving and crazed look in his eyes.

Hunger.

The vampire had grinned as he moved closer to me. For a brief second, he stopped in his tracks and raised his eyebrows in a questioning way, silently challenging me to react.

He had assumed that I would fight for my life. He had expected me to scream for help. Or perhaps, to try and run away from him. The look in his dark eyes suggested that he expected me to try to fight him. But honestly, we both already knew that there was nothing I could do to stop him.

I remained unmoving and stared at him without breathing or blinking as he slowly sauntered towards me. When I could feel his cool breath on my neck, I closed my eyes and accepted my certain fate.

I didn't have anything to fight for anymore.

I raised my head and my thoughts flowed back to the present. I still couldn't understand how I had made it out alive. After that vampire left me for dead, I was able to regenerate. The bite marks healed. My blood grew strong. I was alive. Ever since then, I've been running, never staying in one place for too long, and always moving at night.

This part of my life had started when I first came to Louisiana. I somehow got lost and ended up in a small town called Bon Temps. There, I was able to find a small job and eventually save up for the first month's rent on a house I fell in love with in the neighboring city Shreveport. I moved in and settled; but money soon began to run out and I found myself needing a better paying job. And that's when I found Fangtasia.

Within my first week working there, things began to unravel. I started to lose the only things I had in this world: my brother, my identity, my life and my sanity. I thought by leaving Shreveport, I could gain back what I had lost. But I was wrong. Everything had changed.

Now, I was back in this twisted life of mine searching for answers. There was only one person with the answers I needed so desperately to start a new life. Answers I needed to stop running, to finally understand what I am, and most importantly…to live.

That one person that had it in his power to decide my fate?

His name is Eric Northman.

Let me know what you think so far! I would love to hear your thoughts (: