I knew these streets all too well. I had walked them so many times, I couldn t count.
The strong breeze and cold air nipping at my face, I also knew too well. The sidewalk beneath my feat was cracked and worn. It had been replaced in some areas, and on those slabs of concrete would be someone s name drawn into it, or a hand or shoeprint. Among the sounds of the city, I could here my shoes, lightly padding off the sidewalk. I could hear voices, people having conversations around the area. I could hear cars in the distance. Dogs, barking and howling, probably hoping to get back in, or having seen a shadow, thinking it was someone.

I shoved my hands deeply into my coat pockets, and let out a shaky sigh, seeing my breath.
Why did it have to be November? It was such a cold month, but then again, less people would be out at night,
so it was quieter, also considering the fact that it was a Monday.

I hadn t been here in six years, and almost nothing had changed. Some buildings were renamed, some houses fixed up, new homes built,
new faces walking around. It was still the same old Chicago to me either way, but I wasn t the same Elizabeth that I was when I left here.

The bullying continued. My peers had still picked on me,
even though they knew nothing about me. This time, I reacted to the comments and beatings differently.
I ran home and cried everyday. I became weak, I couldn t take it anymore.
They knew nothing about me, I had been there for almost no time, yet they grew such a retched hatred for me so quickly.

That hurt more than anything. These people didn t bother to learn anything more about me other than my name.
Even the teachers wouldn t ask me to do public speaking, or answer questions in class. Everyone disliked me.

Even my parents grew tired of me. They were sick of the fact that no one liked me,
that I wasn t good enough to be friends with anyone, that I couldn t be normal.
They slowly isolated me from their lives, started telling me off for my lack of friends and a social life.
I was so miserable.

What made me feel completely worthless and absolutely loathed though,
was when some seniors thought it would be funny to try and run me over while they were drunk.
They didn t even apologize when they were sober again. The only people who cared were the nurses and doctors at the hospital who treated my broken left arm. I felt pathetic and unworthy of living. I even tried to kill myself.
Sadly for everyone else and myself, it didn t work.

I ran away a few nights ago. Yes I know, how can a twenty year old run away? Well my parents thought it was improper for a young woman, such as myself,
to move out on my own, by myself without any plans. I knew they wanted me out of there so badly,
they just didn t want me to fail at finding a place to live and go crawling back to them. They were most likely overjoyed that I had run away. I didn t leave a note or anything, I just packed all my most important possessions and left.

Now, I m back here in Chicago, staying at a hotel. I don t have a job or anything to pay for a place to live,
but I do have years worth of money saved up that I plan to use as soon as I can get my hands on it, which should be soon,
I just need to go to a bank.

After a few minutes, I realized how tired I was. I felt the need to sit down terribly.
My feet were starting to hurt from walking for so long. I looked around to see where I was. I was only a few blocks away from the hotel.

I sharp pain shot through my stomach, and I doubled over, holding onto it. I released a heavy breath, then took a large one in. I looked to my left, all there was, was an alley. It was my only option. So I walked a few feet into the alley, then sat on the ground, my back against the wall. I kept inhaling deeply,
and exhaling. I began to think of reasons as to why my stomach would hurt so much. I started to use my fingers to count.
Thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth ugh shit.

Of course I just had to get cramps now, several blocks away from my warm,
cozy, hotel room bed. I mentally began cursing my ovaries and their bad timing. Slowly and carefully, I tried standing myself up. Thankfully, I managed to do so without causing myself more pain. I started to wonder how long it would take to walk to the hotel, and if they would get worse while I walked.

Out of the corner of my eye, a dark figure moved.
I shot my head in the direction of the figure, but nothing was there. My breathing picked up along with my heartbeat. When I turned my head to stare at the wall in front of me, I saw movement again. Once I again I looked in that direction, and yet again I saw nothing. I closed my eyes tightly, hoping that it was my tired eyes playing tricks on me.

I opened my eyes and let out a scream of terror. Standing mere feet in front of me was a man in a black suit,
presumably from the 30s, he wore a gray tie with black diagonal stripes. His outfit was accompanied by a white bowler hat.
The man hair dark hair and caramel eyes. His skin was ghostly pale. He stood a few inches taller than me, so I barely had to look up at him.
What s a lovely young lady such as yourself, doing out here in the middle of the night in a dark alley? he asked suavely, a smirk playing across his lips.
I I w wasn t feeling w well I couldn t bring myself to form a coherent sentence. His eyes were mesmerizing, but I also knew that meant trouble.
Aw, that s just too bad. Well, you wouldn t want to be caught out here all alone. Some scary, perverted, dangerous man might come upon you. I I clenched my fist. My scar was starting to hurt, but it hadn t done that in years, not since I last saw that mysterious man. But something was different this time. It wasn t burning as usual.
There was a.. a throbbing pain in it. It really hurt.

The man noticed my clench fist, and looked at it skeptically.
Why are you doing that with your hand? he asked.
I wasn t really sure if I should tell him or not. Oh well, it s looks like I m going to die anyways, It hurts. Does it? I nodded meekly.
Let me see your hand.

I raised it timidly, then he took it in his grasp. He examined it for a minute, searching my palm and the back of my hand, and then he smirked.
Well, well, well. It seems as though someone has left their mark on you. Such a pity,
we could have had so much fun. Such a pity indeed. Brendon? Are you bothering this poor girl?

I turned my attention to see a tall, dark man with tattooed skin and black curls.
His attire was different from the man who was currently holding my wrist. He was wearing a baggy dark shirt, jeans that were too big for him, his eyes had dark circles under them. In a way he looked hungry.
Oh Travis, I was just having a little fun. Cut your old pal some slack. Why hello there, and what might I ask, is this pretty lady s name? the dark man asked.
He seemed to be just as suave as the other, only with.. a tougher edge to him.
B-Bella. Bella? Well that s a pretty name, especially for a girl who smells so delicious. Did he just delicious? Oh boy.
Um, look I really don t feel well, could you just let me- Oh no darling, please don t expect us to let you leave. We love sharing,
you don t have to worry about one of us going hungry. The other said.
H hungry? My, she does stutter quite a lot, doesn t she? She does. Brendon, I at least think we should introduce ourselves before we start in on her. My name is Travis McCoy.
I m the leader of the gangster vampires. And I am Brendon Urie, a Dandie. Now Travis, it seems as though we have a problem. Which would be.. ? Travis urged.
She is marked. Marked? Why didn t you say so? That means she s off limits. Mm, yes but that doesn t mean we can t have our fun with her. He licked his lips.
My eyes grew wide, and I was even more frightened. I couldn t believe this was actually happening. This could not be happening.
I m afraid it does. Brendon sighed, Alright. Until we meet again. He bowed.
See you next time, Princess. Travis winked, then they both disappeared.

I stood there, wide-eyed, disbelieving and confused. There was no possible way that it was my imagination,
and I was not possible of creating a dream like that. As soon as I snapped back into reality,
my legs instantly went into running mode, and the whole time I ran back to the hotel, the only thought that was in my mind was; Lock the door.

I didn t sleep at all during the night. Their faces haunted me,
fear and paranoia lying on either side of me all night, both nagging at me. What did they mean when they said marked?
And what did they mean by Until next time ? I wasn t going to run into them again, was I? I didn t want to.
I was already terrified enough as it is.

I pulled the blankets up over my head and closed my eyes. All I could see was their faces, their hungry eyes. But.. they were vampires. How is that possible? I am a bit of a vampire fanatic thus being called vampire girl , but I never thought they were real. I always found them so interesting,
but being cornered by them.. it was petrifying.

But I would be safe during the day, right? They can t live in the sunlight,
they sleep all day. Maybe it would just be best if I slept during the rest of today, seeing as I didn t get any sleep the night before, and I could stay up during the night to make sure they didn t kidnap me or anything along those lines.

I slept for only several hours during the day. It was the middle of the night and I was exhausted.
I wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, but I couldn t. They might sneak up on me. I walked over to the window and opened it. I stuck my head out and breathed in the fresh air. I hadn t left my room in the past twenty four hours,
so it was nice to take it in.

Then I heard something. I listened closer, realizing it was a scream.
It wasn t one of those kids fooling around screams, this was a real horrified scream.
I had a feeling I knew what the cause was. I grabbed my jacket, then ran out of the room. I took the elevator, tapping my foot impatiently, I needed to get outside as fast as possible.

When the doors opened up, I booted it outside. I looked around, and ran in the direction where I remembered hearing the scream come from. I ran down the sidewalk, not caring if anyone saw me and started to think things, someone was in danger.

I heard the screaming again and ran faster. I finally came to a stop in front of an alley.
In it lay a body. I advanced toward it, only to see that is was a young woman, not much older than me, lying in a pool of her own blood, two holes in her neck. Her blood dripped into every little crack and space between the pavement. Her eyes were staring up at the sky, fear still present in them, although she was dead.
I felt somewhat nauseous looking at the scene, thinking about how that could have been me last night.
You came back sooner than planned. I span around to see Brendon standing at the head of the alleyway.
What s the matter dear? You don t seem happy to see me. his lips turned up at the corners, causing him to smirk.
I don t mean to be rude, but I was somewhat hoping not to see you. He gasped and put a hand over his heart. Or.. where it used to be. Or is. I don t know.
Words like that hurt Elizabeth, they truly do. Why are you still here? What do you want from me? I wish I could claim you as my own, but unfortunately it seems as though you are already claimed. Claimed? What are you talking about? What s going on? You ask too many questions, and with your lack of knowledge, you might not like all of the answers. I just want to know what s happening and why I m even talking to you right now. All your questions shall be answered, but you must answer a few of my own first. I could tell this guy was going to give me a lot of trouble.
Go right ahead. Who marked you? If I knew what that meant, I just might be able to tell you. How did you get that scar on your right palm? he asked, sounding a bit irritated.
Oh. Well, about seventeen years ago, when I was a little girl, I was playing in my backyard one night. I found this ring in the grass, and it burned my hand. Then this random guy came along and told me it was his.
I gave it back to him, and he took out a pocket knife and cut my hand, then placed the ring back in it, causing the burning again. Then he asked my name and left. I ve seen him once since, and that was six years ago, the day before I moved to Ohio. Every now and again, my hand would randomly burn, but it hasn t in six years, until last night. But it felt.. different last night. He looked a little dumbfounded for a minute, then regained his previous

That s interesting story. Do you remember what this man looked like? He wore clothes kind of like you. And he had dark hair. And.. strange green eyes. Hm, really? Yeah. Things are starting to piece together What things? You ll find out soon enough.

He snapped his fingers, and the next thing I knew my head hurt, then everything faded to black.