Me: it might be confusing now but it gets better! Pls r&r. This is the first serious thing I've done go easy on meeee! Oh yeah and I own Samara but I don't own FFVII unfortunately… ;;

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There was another crack of thunder and she fell over, scraping her knees along the ground. Even though the blood ran down her legs and soaked into her dress, without a second thought she leapt up and carried on running.

"Ah…" As lightening lit up the night it began to rain. Not just a shower though, it poured from the sky like a solid blanket. The rainwater mixed up the dirt and blood that was smeared on her face. She stopped, moaned and sank to the ground.

'They left you.' A teasing female voice drawled. In the back of her mind she could hear as the voice laughed, high and evilly, 'They left you out here to die. Nobody loves you… or it.'

The girl grabbed both sides of her head, as if trying to pull the voice out, "Leave me alone!" She shrieked into the night, "Just leave me ALONE!" Light brown hair, turned almost black with dried blood, draped over her face.

Sobbing, she curled into a ball and let it rain down on her. 'You're a psycho. Everyone back there thought so. They told me all about you.'

"You got it all wrong…" She hiccoughed, wiping hair out her eyes to stare up at the black sky, "You're in my head… I'm not crazy." Something deep inside her made her stand up and scream, "I'm not crazy! YOU ARE!"

Lifting a skinny arm above her head, she began running away. The laughter carried on, although it seemed to be further away. Through the sheet of rain, she could just make out the outline of a massive house.

Safety at last! Surely there must be someone in there that could help her. She bolted up the path like the lightening that was above her and banged a bloody fist on the door.

"HEY! Is someone there? Any…" Before she could finish, she passed out onto the stone path. The last thing she saw before darkness took over was a pair of blood red eyes…

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Vincent frowned and stared down at the girl fast asleep on the bed. She'd been in a total state. Her hair was still matted and bloody, some parts were tied in useless dreads that were draped over her face. He'd managed to clean up most of her wounds.

Looking closer, she reminded him of someone. It was so long ago he couldn't remember. She had a blue tag wrapped around her ankle. The letters that hadn't been washed away in the rain were S-A-M-R. He couldn't even figure out what her name was.

Why had she been out in the storm? Even he wouldn't risk going out, he liked watching the lightening from the roof sometimes. On the rare times he got out of his coffin of course. In fact, it had been the voice in the back of his mind that told him someone was there.

Cautiously, he put two fingers on her neck and felt for a pulse. There was nothing. Frowning, he tried again on her wrist. Her skin felt cold and she looked pretty lifeless. There were deep black shadows around her closed eyes. He sighed and put her arm back down by her side.

"What a waste of life…" Vincent muttered. He was just about to drape the white sheet over her body for the final time when she sat up suddenly.

Her panicked blue eyes darted round the room before finally settling on his face. She raised her arm and pointed straight at him. Her fingernails were painted red and almost bitten off.

"V…V….V-VAMPIRE!" Grabbing the sheet, she tugged it over her head, "Don't hurt me, please!"

Vincent rolled his red eyes and whipped the sheet off her, "Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm not a vampire." He reassured her. She seemed pretty suspicious, but shuffled back and leant against the headboard.

"You look like one." She pointed out, she couldn't have been more than fifteen, "What with the cape and the fangs n all…" She looked around the room, "Thankyou for taking me in. I might have died."

The girl surveyed the room quickly. Her eyes grew wide again and Vincent followed her frightened gaze to a massive mirror hanging on the wall. It was the only bit of furniture in the room apart from the bed and was covered in layers of dust.

"What's your name?" He asked, trying to be calm. She was obviously terrified. She took her eyes from the mirror only for a second to check the name on her label.

"Samara." She whispered. "Please. Get that thing out of here." Samara backed up a little, "I'd rather go back in the fucking storm than be in here with that…" She put her hands over her head, "Ahh… the noise…"

Vincent raised an eyebrow. This girl… she was obviously disturbed. He didn't know when he took her in. She didn't look very dangerous though, her arms were chicken bone skinny.

"Do you want to take a shower?" he offered. Samara swung her legs out of the bed and ran her fingertips through her hair. She didn't even get halfway down when her hand got tangled in the mess.

"Yeah, please." She seemed to know her way around as she shuffled out of the room. Vincent suddenly realized how short she was, about 5".

When the door had finally closed on him he had half a thought to do as she asked. He gazed into the mirror, but could only see a bit of his reflection. He unhooked it from the grimy wall and wiped mould onto his cape.

The mirror tilted, showing the ceiling.

She was on there, wearing the same white coat and black polo shirt. It was soaked through in blood and fluid. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail although crusty strands hung into her face. And the position she was in… like a spider, hands and feet stuck to the ceiling. Her jawline was bruised blue and green and there were deep cuts up and down her arms. Her eyes locked with Vincent's… for a split second she smiled…

"Ah!" The mirror fell from his hands and shattered on the floor into thousands of pieces.

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