Author's note: Here's a bit of background on my oc. Hopefully, this will help clear something up. I have such a clear picture of Soren in my head that I forget not everyone does too, haha. Not to be the person asking for reviews, but they really do help, so if you wouldn't mind... Enjoy!
Eight years ago
A bright-eyed girl, still gangly from a new growth spurt, sits at a table in a brightly lit kitchen, kicking her legs against the stool she sat on. A short woman stood at the counter chopping vegetables, with her back to the girl. At the sound of a flame crackling to life, she says "honey, I told you to stop playing with the candles."
"But mom, I'm not! Look!" The woman turned as requested. "Aiden, as fun as wax fingertips are-" but was cut short by what she saw. In the small kitchen full of digital appliances the warm glow of a fire coming from Aiden's hands lit up her face softly along with a smile. "See, it tickles!"
Four years ago:
Soren had been walking home from soccer practice, her attempt at being normal, when she noticed the man trailing her. She wasn't really worried. Life had been difficult since the discovery that her chromosomal structure was mutated, but it wasn't unheard of these days. Scientists heralded it as evolution taking its next steps in humans. There were even schools for these mutants.
She wasn't concerned because of this, at least not until after a few minutes of turns down various streets the man had her cornered in an alley.
"Do you know how delectable you smell?" said the tall pale man who wasn't really a man.
Ew. "Umm. Do you know how gross that sounds?" Her mouth always got her in trouble. His…red eyes sparked with a momentary confusion before returning to their previous sly slant.
"Hardly my dear, but I bet you taste even better, a bit," he paused and licked his lips. "Spicy even." The tone of his voice was more soft, almost slippery, when he spoke the second time.
"Equally grodo," she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck go up in some primal instinct and even as she clenched her uncomfortably warm hands, her curiosity got the better of her and she cocked her head to the side. "What are you?"
The man, that for some reason she was beginning to think wasn't really a man, laughed, almost nervously this time as he twitched to her left and then her right as her eyes followed his speedy steps. "I am hungry and you are dinner."
With those last words he lunged forward only to be met by a wall of flame from her hands. The vampire screamed as it burnt and the young woman's eyes widened as she watched the figure turn into ash. Turns out evolution was an understatement.
One year ago:
It had been a good run. Sixty miles today, spread out over a few hours. The tall girl stretched down, feeling the satisfying pull against her calves as a sweaty lock of long dark auburn hair fell in her face. Soren's younger sister Aida had been trying to convince her to dye it purple for years to match the current styles.
But Soren liked it plain, it matched her wiry frame, freckles and sarcasm better than magenta did her sister's cheerful style and she already stood out enough. Most people didn't know about her mutation, and she'd like to keep it that way.
The teenager had been slowly building up her endurance and speed over the past few years as a precaution. Luckily, there hadn't been a supernatural encounter since the first when she was in high school. It was ridiculous, but the meetup with the - vampire, what else could it be? - had only secured her desire to avoid anything odd.
The prairie preserve she ran in was close to her parents house in Indiana. And as she approached the modest townhouse, she quickened, starving after her triple marathon run.
However, with one breath of air blown from the house Aiden's heartbeat quickened. By all appearances from the outside there was nothing wrong, but still the smell lingered. The strong scent of vampire mixed with human blood met her outside. Three limp bodies lay on the floor in the front hall staining the tiles red with what little blood was left in them.
Silence. Her father facedown in the front. Retching. Her sister curled up behind him, purple hair dyed crimson. Vomiting. Her mother, broken arms outstretched above her face.
Soren collapsed. The awful smell of her family mixed with the iron of blood consumed her mind as the stains from her sisters numerous wounds were mopped up by the automated floor cleaners.