Author's Note: Suggestive themes, blood and gore, and profanity ahead.


July 12, 1925 – December 5, 1929

From Longhouse Bend to New York City

St. Mark's parishioners knew something was wrong when they noticed that Joseph and Ellen Baker and their family were not present for Sunday Mass on the morning of July 12, 1925. The couple had never once missed a Mass, and one of the churchgoers volunteered to go check on the Baker-Malloye's. Perturbed already by sight of the car parked on the side of the lane with a flat tire and a pile clothes filled with what looked like ashes, the churchgoer cried out to God in heaven when he stepped foot into the Baker-Malloye house and found the bodies within. The police were called, and they found Rayne, the sole survivor, still curled up beside her mother's now cold corpse. Rayne barely registered the police's presence in the house, not even when one of them helped her up and held her in his arms as if she were his own daughter.

"It's going to be okay, sweetie." the nice policeman had said with a voice cracking with emotion as he covered Rayne with a blanket even though it was summertime. "It's all going to be okay..." The policeman had covered her head so that she would not have to see the ruined bodies of her family members as he led Rayne out of the house. Rayne was placed in foster care as the police investigated her family's murder and as Longhouse Bend reeled in the aftermath of the horrific mass murder, which the locals quickly called "the Baker-Malloye Massacre." The town's rumor mill ran wild with speculations, theories, and accusations, but no one, be they cop or civilian, could figure out who would want to kill the Baker-Malloye's and why.

Over a week after the massacre, Rayne attended her family's funeral at St. Mark's Catholic Church. She was numb throughout the service, never once shedding a tear, or acknowledging the attendees as they came up to offer their condolences to Rayne, or even when her relatives were put in the ground. Six gray granite gravestones stood over the plots in a neat line that contained not just the Baker-Malloye's but also the Humphrey's and Lansing's. The names and dates on the gravestones were beautifully carved.


Outer Left – Humphrey Grave

Harold (March 23, 1889 – July 11, 1925)

His Wife

Theresa Malloye (September 28, 1893 – July 11, 1925)

Their Children

Benjamin Joseph (April 18, 1916 – July 11, 1925)

Catherine Ellen-Monica (May 20, 1917 - July 11, 1925)


Left Center – Lansing Grave

Arthur (May 29, 1894 - July 11, 1925)

His Wife

Eliza Malloye (February 10, 1896 - July 11, 1925)


Left End – Baker Grave

Joseph (May 8, 1843 - July 11, 1925)

His Wife

Ellen Sheppard (December 15, 1844 - July 11, 1925)

Their Son

Chalmer (August 28, 1872 - July 11, 1925)


Right End – 1st Malloye Grave

James I (November 30, 1866 - July 11, 1925)

His Wife

Sarah Baker (February 20, 1870 - July 11, 1925)

Their Son

Thomas (April 28, 1905 - July 11, 1925)


Right Center – 2nd Malloye Grave

James "Jimmy" II (January 30, 1895 - July 11, 1925)

His Wife

Mary Paget (June 6, 1894 - July 11, 1925)

Their Children

Pauline Marie (May 15, 1922 - July 11, 1925)

Betty Frances (December 10, 1923 - July 11, 1925)

James "Jay" III (December 5, 1924 - July 11, 1925)


Outer Right – 3rd Malloye Grave

Charles (November 2, 1897 - July 11, 1925)

His Wife

Ruth Lehman (April 23, 1898 - July 11, 1925)

Their Children

George Robert (March 28, 1920 - July 11, 1925)

Ada Rose (March 28, 1920 - July 11, 1925)


The body of nineteen year old Joy Irving was sent back home to her devastated family in Hoboken, NJ for burial. Annie's family had her buried at their church's graveyard on the outskirts of Longhouse Bend. With her loved ones in the ground, their life's journey cut so brutally short, it was time for the state to find a place for Rayne to live now that she was an orphan. Rayne was not aware of any extended family members who could take her in, and her adoption by Arthur had not been finalized by the time he was murdered, so she couldn't live with her step-relatives. Unable to locate any remaining kinsmen or legal guardians, Rayne was placed in an orphanage in New York City, where she was expected to live until she was old enough to go out into the world on her own and support herself.

Contrary to this expectation, however, Rayne ran away from the orphanage after spending just three days and nights there. The orphanage was a miserable place, and the staff mistreated the children, not bothering to hide how they held the orphans in contempt; Rayne had overheard an exasperated teacher say to a staff member that the kids were all nothing more than troublemakers and burdens of the state! Rayne felt just as fearful and powerless in that orphanage as she did before Kagan on the night of her family's murder, and she did not want to feel that way ever again. She knew she had nowhere else to go if she left the orphanage, but Rayne didn't care. She just wanted to get out of that hellhole.

So, late into Rayne's third and final night at the orphanage, she escaped. She slipped out of bed, tiptoed down the halls and stairs, and snuck out through a door that opened out onto an alleyway. Rayne casually walked down the alley and into the mostly empty streets, beginning her new life as a waif in the Big Apple. Rayne's transition from living a life of comfort free of want to the exact opposite was obviously hard, but she adapted and persevered. Over the next four years, Rayne transformed from a sweet, gentle and soft-spoken girl into a tough, streetwise and foul-mouthed teenager.

She learned how to rely on herself, how to be resourceful, how to protect herself, and to always trust her gut. Rayne memorized where the good soup kitchens and homeless shelters were, which areas of the city to avoid, and how to steal and pick pockets without getting caught. Rayne's vampiric side came in handy for helping her to navigate through her life on the streets. She was stronger, faster and tougher than the average girl, physical characteristics that helped Rayne to win fights, to escape, climb up and or jump down buildings with superhuman ease, and to take blows without batting an eye and to get right back up again. Her eyesight, hearing, and sense of smell were already sharper than normal before the night of July 11, 1925, but after that night, her eyes, ears, and nose had grown stronger; Rayne could see in the dark, hear the subtlest of sounds, and detect distinct individual aromas and odors.

Hunger, surprisingly, turned out to not be much of an issue for Rayne after she started living on the streets. After drinking her mother's blood, normal food, while it did sustain her, did not satisfy her like it did before her awakening. But Rayne was unwilling to drink human blood again, and she made do with rats, squirrels and other small animals like the occasional stray pet who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time whenever Rayne's bloodthirst was nagging at her. She was tempted a few times to drain a human of their blood if she saw someone with a bloody injury but was able to keep herself from preying on the unsuspecting person. Governing herself with self-restraint and self-reliance, Rayne eked out what life she could on the mean streets of New York City.

Sadly, self-restraint, especially regarding finances, was not regularly observed by those enjoying the carefree and privileged lifestyle that the Roaring Twenties afforded most of the world, and it came back to bite everyone on the ass on October 24, 1929. On that fateful day, Black Tuesday as people came to call it, the stock market at the New York Stock Exchange crashed. The decade's greed and big spending had finally caught up with America and the rest of the world as stocks plummeted and banks closed, leaving countless people penniless and without financial security. Jobs and homes were lost, and despair descended upon a world that had once been so indulgent and happy.

Those who had hit rock bottom could be seen standing in literally mile long lines for free soup and bread, or applying for whatever job was available no matter how little it paid. Former bankers, store owners, and clerks were selling apples for five cents each on street corners. People who had not sold their cars packed their vehicles with whatever belongings they didn't sell and headed out of the city in search of work and hope for a new start. Those who had lost their homes moved into ramshackle settlements called "Hoovervilles". These shantytowns were given that name to slight President Herbert Hoover, whom Americans were blaming for their current woes.

But regardless of who was to blame for the world's current economic crisis, everyone, be they rich or poor, were all caught up in the same hopeless situation. One month and four days after Black Tuesday on November 28th, America celebrated Thanksgiving, though it was a bittersweet affair. Families who were keeping their heads above water said grace at the dinner table that day and prayed for the unfortunate to be blessed with good luck, the hungry to be fed, and the cold to be kept warm. People banded together to help their fellow man by providing hot meals and donating clothes to the poor. Soup kitchens did their best to provide a traditional Thanksgiving feast for the downtrodden who were unable to enjoy such a meal on their own dime.

Holidays like Thanksgiving always dredged up sad memories for Rayne. The last Thanksgiving she celebrated with her family was five years ago in 1924. The Baker-Malloye House was full of both people and delicious aromas that bygone fall day. All the women save for a then heavily pregnant Mary were going back and forth between the kitchen and dining room getting the family's feast ready while the men socialized in the parlor and the children played around the house. Mary, whose due date with Jay was only eight days away, was relaxing on the couch in the parlor with the men.

Rayne was running around the house carrying a nearly one year old Betty in her arms as they and the rest of their cousins helped Benjamin recreate a scene from a Tom Mix movie. Benny was big fan of Tom Mix, and he loved pretending to be one of Mix's characters – a cowboy who always saved the day - whenever he initiated these games of make-believe. Betty was giggling cutely in her oldest cousin's arms as she ran around. "Will you kids keep it down, please!" James Sr had called out from the parlor when the clamor from his grandchildren had gotten too loud, a plea that was followed up by a relieved "Thank you" after the kids settled down.

The whole family gathered in the dining room later that afternoon to sit down and enjoy the long-awaited Thanksgiving feast. The turkey had been shot by the octogenarian Grandpa Jo himself, and all the other dishes had either been cooked in the Baker-Malloye kitchen or had been brought in by the other family members. Out of all these goodies, Granny El's pumpkin pie and applesauce cake were the most anticipated. Adults and kids alike competed for a slice of pie or cake, and Rayne remembered how she had snagged the last slice of applesauce cake before Arthur could take it. He pouted playfully as Rayne teased him by pretending to eat the slice in front of him before offering it to Arthur, who politely declined and let Rayne have it all to herself.

And now, five years later, Rayne was "celebrating" Thanksgiving 1929 at a soup kitchen with strangers. Sure, most of the volunteers and homeless or unemployed people were nice, but it just wasn't the same. Remembering family occasions like that last Thanksgiving never failed to put a lump in Rayne's throat, which was happening now.

"Hey, sweetie, are you okay?"

Rayne looked up to see a man in his early to mid-thirties looking at her with fatherly concern. He didn't look homeless; the man's clothes were laundered, and he had good hygiene. He must be unemployed; this man probably spent his days walking all over the city looking for work and ate his meals at soup kitchens because he was far from home. Embarrassed to be caught getting emotional, Rayne nodded vehemently.

"Yes, I'm fine, sir. Thank you."

The man seemed to back off, but the concern remained on his face. He knew something was up. Maybe he was a father. Perhaps his family lived outside of NYC, and that's why the man wasn't celebrating Thanksgiving with them. The man picked up a little plate from his tray that had a slice of pumpkin pie on it, and he gave it to Rayne.

"I know what you said, young lady, but I hope this cheers you up some. Happy Thanksgiving."

The man reminded Rayne of Arthur. Kind, caring, and thoughtful. "Thank you, sir." she said softly and gratefully as she accepted the offered plate. The world may be a dark place, but it was moments like this that reminded Rayne that there was still goodness out there. The pie didn't taste like Granny's El's, but the stranger's kindness seemed to make that slice taste wonderful in its own way.

Rayne didn't talk anymore with the kind man after that, but she was thinking of him one week later on the night of December 5, 1929, and Rayne hoped that the man was home with his family or had found a job that could support them all. The night was cold with sleet glazed snow still lingering on the streets from a recent snowfall earlier that week, and Rayne was wrapped in a thick, two-layer cocoon of old moth-eaten blankets on a pallet that was covered with newspapers and propped up on some loose bricks that Rayne had found to keep the rats away. Rayne didn't have a pillow, so she rested the side of her head on her hands, which were folded beneath her right ear. Her makeshift bed was set up in a rather sketchy alleyway in Manhattan. Terrible as this was, Rayne counted her blessings, few as they were.

The first "blessing" was that she had two actual blankets that were thick and trapped in heat; Rayne had seen some homeless people sleeping under newspapers, which were called "Hoover-blankets", or nothing at all. The second "blessing" was that, as sketchy as this alleyway was, the people who passed through there were more interested in the speakeasy there than they were in the homeless girl who slept across from it. The speakeasy had seen a boost in business after the stock market crash as people came to drown their sorrows in illegal liquor. Located in a crummy neighborhood, the clientele of this speakeasy were all lowlifes including the staff save for one of the busboys who snuck food out to Rayne every now and then. Though Rayne had never ventured inside that establishment, she could tell it was a dive that no respectable gangster would ever show his face in.

Kagan and Ofelia probably wouldn't even visit that place... Rayne's eyes opened, which were glowing red with rage, and her face was contorted with anger. She had no idea why she thought of her father and his lover just then. Just thinking about them brought on a boiling rage inside Rayne; those horrible, family killing, blood-sucking monsters! A gust of cold wind blew through the alley, cooling Rayne down and bringing her back to reality.

The red glow in her eyes vanished, and Rayne wrapped herself tightly in her blankets. The scratchy, faded pink wool coat Rayne was wearing helped to keep her warm too. Underneath Rayne's coat was a dirty second-hand green dress, and her feet were shod in socks and mud-caked boots. "Christ, I hate being cold..." Rayne grumbled as she tried to keep warm. Homeless shelters were full thanks to both the Great Depression and the incoming winter, so Rayne had to endure frigid nights like this for weeks on end without the occasional luxury of sleeping in a real bed with a pillow and clean sheets and a blanket at a shelter.

The sound of the speakeasy's door opening made Rayne peek out of her blankets to see what was up. A drunk woman wearing a fur coat stumbled out onto the small wooden deck that stood in front of the door. The woman, who was laughing as she left the speakeasy, was carrying a half-full gin bottle by the neck in her right hand and was pulling on the necktie belonging to a man who was lurching behind her as if he were a dog on a leash. The man was also laughing as he lurched forward. A cloud of odors flowed out from the door around the inebriated couple: cigar smoke, beer, gin, whiskey, and vomit, and Rayne could hear loud jazz music emanating from the speakeasy's entrance.

The woman pulled the man closer to her by his tie to plant a sloppy kiss on his lips after the door was shut behind them by an unseen doorman. Her beau reciprocated her affection by clumsily drawing her into an embrace. The woman, with her lips still pressed against the man's, took two steps backward and nearly fell down the three wooden steps that made up the deck stairs. Her man saved them both by gripping the railing with one hand and pulling the giggling woman back up with the other

"Jesus, Flora, ya nearly strangled me!" snapped the man, who was less intoxicated than his girlfriend. "Let go of my tie." Flora was too drunk to register what had just happened, but she released her angry boyfriend's tie, nevertheless.

"Oh, lighten up, Carl. You're still breathing, aren't you?" Flora's words were slurred but firm. Carl nodded his head and rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, Flo, I'll help ya down."

Rayne watched from her pallet how Carl and Flora descended the stairs gracelessly, their unsteady movements tickling their funny bones, making them laugh. The fourteen year old frowned in disgust as she observed the drunken couple proceed to make out in front of her. Carl led Flora to the wall Rayne's sleeping area was at and pressed her against it as they kissed and moaned. "Ugh..." was all Rayne could say as she buried herself into her blankets, resisting the urge to yell at Carl and Flora to get a room. Believe it or not, the idea of getting a room did dawn on Carl as his encounter with Flora heated up, and Rayne, grossed out as she was by how the couple was acting, could not help but listen to them.

"Hey, Flo," panted Carl when his and Flora's lips finally parted, "want to continue this somewhere nice? How about my place?"

"No, no, nooooo," Flora drawled, "I don't think your wife would like to hear us having fun."

"Oh, you had to remind me about that bitter, miserable bitch, didn't you, Flo? Don't worry, Blanche won't be back from her sister's place down in Florida 'til Monday. For all I know, she's probably sleeping with some Cuban guy, or alligator hunter, or whatever." There was a brief pause before Carl continued. "You're way prettier than Blanche, Flo; she's jealous of you!"

Flora laughed out loud at her lover's compliment, her laugh soon followed by the sound of liquid sloshing in a bottle, and then the moist, risqué sounds of a couple making out. "Give me strength..." Rayne mumbled to herself as the sloppy couple continued with their drunken debauchery.

"Alright, Carl, let's go to your place. I'll bring a whole new meaning to the phrase the cat's peow."

Flora meant to say 'meow'. Hearing drunks speak can be quite painful at times. At least Carl's speech was decent in comparison to Flora's.

"Why don't we have a nightcap at my place beforehand? You're out of gin anyway."

Rayne jumped when she heard glass breaking. She rose from her blankets and saw that Flora's once prized gin bottle had been tossed at the speakeasy's brick wall. Glass shards gleamed under the light of a lamp that was installed on the building. "Awww, look, Carl, a homeless bid... kid..."

Rayne looked away from the gleaming glass to see that both Carl and Flora were now looking at her. It was the first time they noticed that Rayne was there. Flora reached into her lover's pocket, fished out some loose change, and threw the coins at Rayne. Rayne shielded herself with her blanket to protect herself from the mini hailstorm of change, which consisted of three pennies and a nickel. Carl and Flora laughed unapologetically at Rayne, and their attention returned to each other without a care in the world.

"I do believe, Miss Calder, that I left my secret stash of gin at the dead-end of this alley here. Got it from a fellow bootlegger who lives out in Hudson Valley. It's pretty good for bathtub gin. Let me get a bottle and we'll head over to my place to continue our evening..." Carl ended his sentence seductively.

He finally peeled himself off Flora and proceeded to walk down the alleyway swaying back and forth a little like a pendulum. Flora started singing out of tune as Carl made his way up to the end of the alley and disappeared around the dimly lit corner. Shaking her head, Rayne tried yet again to fall asleep even as Flora sang badly to the cold December night air. Rayne had settled into a comfortable position when her dhampir ears picked up something unusual from down the alley. A muffled cry of surprise, glass breaking, and a baleful silence that soon vibrated with a low, sinister growl that seemed to belong to a jungle cat.

Not only that, but Rayne caught a whiff of blood coming from down the alley too. Something very bad had just happened to Carl. Worser still, whatever had harmed Carl wasn't human... Rayne rose slowly from her pallet, her heart racing, her hair standing on end as if there was static in the air. Meanwhile, the only thing the drunken Flora noticed was how long Carl had been gone.

"Carl, what's taking you so long down there?" she called out, her voice flowing down the alley. The figure of a man slowly walked out of the passage and stared down at Flora and Rayne. Rayne could tell that the man wasn't Carl; the outfit he was wearing wasn't the same as Carl's, and the clothes looked like they had been slept in and unwashed whereas Carl had been dressed neatly in clean clothing. Carl had also been wearing a fedora while this man here was not.

The man was about thirty feet away from the two ladies, and Rayne could see with her sharp vision that his eyes were glowing a bright color and the length of his fangs protruding from under his upper lips. This strange man was a vampire... Dark memories of glowing eyes and gleaming fangs played out in Rayne's mind, and the terror she felt four years ago was creeping back into her soul. "Carl!" Flora shouted, who seemed both annoyed and perplexed by the figure, and yet was still oblivious to his true nature. "What the hell are you doing? Where's your hat?"

She left her spot by the wall to walk up to Carl.

"No, don't!" Rayne warned Flora as she grabbed her arm.

"Let go of me!" Flora snarled as she tried to shake Rayne's hand off. But Rayne did not want to let go; she was gripping on to Flora with her dhampir strength. Grip or no grip, it didn't matter to the vampire down the alley. He crouched down on all fours, ran halfway down the alley and pounced on Flora like a jaguar on a tapir from fifteen feet away.

The force of the impact of the vampire landing on Flora was strong enough to free her from Rayne's clutches. Flora's mouth was open, but she didn't scream even when she saw her attacker's demonic face; pure terror kept her from uttering a sound louder than a whimper. The Vampire was pale and thin, his eyes glowed with a warm amber color not unlike that of a wolf's, and in his mouth were long fangs that were dripping with Carl's blood. Unseen by Flora, the Vampire's hands were topped with cat-like claws. Rayne flattened herself against the wall and was unable to scream herself out of fear.

But Rayne was not entirely overwhelmed with fear; she still had her wits about her. Her green eyes darted around the alley for a weapon she could use, and Rayne soon found the shards of Flora's broken gin bottle. Rayne picked up the biggest shard from the pile when Flora finally started screaming. She turned around just in time to see the vampire raise his right arm up and slash Flora's face with his claws. Flesh being torn like paper somehow deafened Flora's screams in Rayne's ears, a sickening noise that was soon replaced by Flora gasping and choking at the same time.

Rayne beheld the awful aftermath of the Vampire's attack on Flora as he moved his arm away from her face. Flora's nose had been torn off and her lips had been shredded. Her wide, terrified eyes were transfixed on the Vampire, and she trembled on the asphalt as dark crimson blood flowed down her face. Rayne froze as she watched the blood, a powerful thirst coming over her. She found herself licking her lips and then biting her lower lip in response.

The Vampire knew no such restraint, and he bit Flora's neck and drained her of her blood. But the blood of the now late Ms. Flora Calder must not have tasted good, for the Vampire spat out some of the crimson liquid after killing her. His amber eyes found Rayne's as he wiped his mouth on his coat-sleeve, and the Vampire rose from his latest victim's body to take stock of Rayne. He was taken aback by the adolescent girl, whose eyes were glowing red, and he could see her fangs. Rayne held the shard out in front of her, increasing her grip on it, not caring that she had cut herself on its sharp edges. Her blood seeped down the glass and dripped onto a mound of snow below.

The Vampire saw Rayne's blood dripping from her hand, and he sniffed the air. He must have smelled Rayne's dual-human and vampire nature from her spilled blood, for a hungry look came into his wolfish eyes and he grinned at Rayne, revealing his bloody teeth. "Oh crap!" Rayne murmured. She was on the menu now.

However, Rayne was sure as hell not going to make it easy for Count Orlok here to drink her blood. Not by a long shot. Rayne positioned herself so that her left side was facing the Vampire and her right arm was retracted back ready to stab him with the shard if he dared to come after her. "Want my blood, asshole? Come and get it! I dare you!"

The Vampire's grin widened in response to Rayne's challenge. He got down on all fours again and made his way menacingly towards Rayne. Rayne dug her heels into the ground and tensed her body in anticipation of getting pounced on. She psyched herself up with the thought of plunging that shard into the monster. See how he liked losing his own blood.

"C'mon, you bastard... C'mon... I dare you to leap on me! C'mon!"

The Vampire lunged at Rayne, who swung the shard into his left side as he fell upon her. The Vampire shrieked with pain as the glass pierced his clothes and flesh. But Rayne let go of the shard, which was now slick with her blood, a slickness that caused her hand to slide on the sharp edges and cut deeper into Rayne's palm and fingers. "Ow!" Rayne hissed through gritted teeth after releasing the shard, the pain having become too sharp for her to bear.

Rayne realized how stupid that decision was when she saw the lacerations on her hand close and heal. She saw the Vampire lunge towards her again with an open mouth from the corner of her eye, his breath reeking of blood and death. Acting quickly, Rayne held her attacker's face back with both her hands, and she was able to lift him up far enough for her to get her legs under him and to kick him away with both her feet. The kick was strong enough to get the monster off Rayne and for him to tumble backwards and fall with a startled cry.

Rayne was now free, but she had been deprived of her weapon, and her opponent would soon be back on his feet. Looking around desperately for anything that she could use, Rayne's eyes fell on the bricks that supported her pallet bed. Acting fast, she lifted the upper corner of the pallet and pulled out a single brick. The brick's solidness and weight brought some reassurance to Rayne, who was glad to be armed again. She got her new weapon at the right time since the Vampire was back on his feet already.

Rayne held the brick up threateningly at the creature, who sneered at the sight of Rayne's new weapon. That sneer made Rayne angry, and she threw the brick at the Vampire to prove that it was a worthwhile weapon by causing him pain with it. The monster quickly ducked as the brick went flying overhead, and he charged at Rayne on all fours like a bull. Terrified, Rayne only had enough time to turn to make a run for it when the Vampire pounced on her back and brought her down to the ground. Proud of himself for what he had done, the Vampire rose and slid his fingers into Rayne's greasy red hair to pull her head up.

Pain burned fiercely in Rayne's scalp from the Vampire's pull, but Rayne screamed more from the horror she was going through rather than from the pain, and she grabbed at her head to try and break free. As horrifying as her situation was at that very moment, what disturbed Rayne even more was that no one in the area had come to investigate the commotion coming from the alleyway. The patrons and staff of the speakeasy at least had the excuse of not being able to hear anything outside due to loud music, but the denizens who called this neighborhood home didn't even call out from their windows to ask what was going on. This area did have a high crime rate, so the people here were used to hearing screaming and shouting coming from the alleyways at night whether it was a hooker getting beaten up or someone getting mugged. A terrible code of silence, as well as general apathy, prevented the citizens of this neighborhood from investigating or even summoning help.

Rayne was on her own. Gritting her teeth, Rayne elbowed the Vampire in the ribs as hard as she could. Dhampir strength made the blow even stronger, causing the Vampire to bellow and release his captive. Thinking quickly, Rayne spun around and slashed the left side of her attacker's face with her clawed right hand. The beast's left eye disappeared under Rayne's sharp claws as they tore through his flesh with ease.

He howled in agony and grasped the mangled, bleeding half of his face and thrashed wildly about. "Serves you right, you fucking bastard..." Rayne hissed under her breath as she soothed her throbbing scalp with her clean left hand as the Vampire writhed in the alley. She held the bloody fingers of her right hand up to her face, her thirst compelling her to taste it. What did vampire blood taste like? Licking her lips, Rayne sucked on her index and middle fingers together first.

"Mmmm..." Rayne murmured in delight, and she stuck her other fingers into her mouth to suck the blood off them. Not bad. Better still, the Vampire had stopped struggling long enough to glare at Rayne only for him to see her clearly enjoying his blood. Rayne's gaze rose to meet the Vampire's, and they were glowing red once again. Five fine deep slashes had been carved through his left eye and cheek, and deep red blood poured out from the wounds.

Rayne saw the angry but horrified disbelief in the monster's remaining eye, and a sense of power and superiority surged through her. She licked her lips and grinned sinisterly, displaying her fangs to the Vampire, a sight that seemed to scare him even more. Four years ago, Rayne was powerless and at the mercy of her vampire father and his allies, but here, a vampire was at the mercy of Rayne, a dhampir! My how the tables had turned. And boy did it feel great.

The Vampire hissed as it took one step back away from Rayne, blood dripping down from the left side of his jaw. He bent his knees and jumped up onto the wall on his right, scaling the brickwork like a spider. Rayne was amazed by how the Vampire climbed the building wall and how quickly he moved. Amazement was soon replaced with alarm when Rayne realized that the Vampire was on the loose in Manhattan and that she had to stop him. But her claws alone would not be enough to stop that beast; Rayne needed to find yet another weapon.

She glanced over at the pile of glass shards from Flora's broken bottle, but the shards were either too small or their shape was not practical for combat. The glass reminded Rayne of Carl going down the snowy alley to retrieve a bottle of hooch from his secret stash, and how she had heard glass breaking when Carl was attacked by the Vampire. Without a moment to lose, Rayne raced down the alley and rounded the corner at the dead-end. Carl the bootlegger was lying face down on the ground still and unmoving, the remains of a broken bottle lying not too far away from him. Clutched tightly in Carl's cold, dead hand was the biggest shard of all: an intact bottle neck with a long, jagged "blade" of glass attached to it.

"Perfect!" Rayne exclaimed, delighted with her good luck. She pried the shard out of Carl's hand and brandished it like a sword. "Alright, let's get this bastard!" Rayne then turned around and ran down from whence she came.

She ran straight towards the wall of the building across from her and leapt up towards the rusty black iron ladder that hung from the bottom tier of a fire escape. The ladder retracted down to the ground thanks to Rayne's weight, filling the alley with the horrible screech of rusty metal sliding on metal. Rayne put the shard in her mouth so that both her hands were free, and she climbed up the ladder as quickly as she could. The dhampir vampire-hunter bounded up the fire escape's stairwell, glass shard now back in her hand, creating an awful clamor of banging metal as Rayne's boots hit the steps and grating at a rapid pace. But Rayne did not care about the noise she was making in the dead of night, all she cared about was finding and killing that vampire before it could hurt anyone else.

The top floor escape balcony stopped no more than ten feet below the building's roof, but Rayne was able to reach the ledge with a single jump. Pulling herself up onto the roof, Rayne cautiously surveyed her surroundings. There was no sign of the Vampire save for a trail of blood drops and footprints on the snow-covered rooftop. The trail of red dots and footprints stretched all the way to the other side of the roof. Rayne followed that trail to the end of that side of the roof only to be met with a cityscape of tall buildings of various heights and an empty street, both of which acted as barriers to Rayne proceeding with her search; the Vampire could be anywhere here in one of the biggest cities on Earth.

"Goddamn it!" Rayne exclaimed. "Now what?"

She analyzed her surroundings in search of some clue that could lead her to where the Vampire was. "Where are you?" Rayne muttered to herself. She squinted from her vantage point into the streets and alleys below to try and detect the slightest movement or anything that appeared to be out of place. As Rayne focused, her vision suddenly, and bizarrely, grew lighter and developed a blue tint reminiscent of illumination given off by a full moon or a flash of lightning.

Rayne's surroundings were now so clear; everything was lit up. Strangest of all, there was a large pulsing blue light that radiated like a smaller, albeit dimmer, version of the sun even as it moved erratically in the distance. "What the hell?!" gasped a startled Rayne, and with that, the "blueness" went away, and Rayne's vision returned to normal. She looked around worriedly as if that bizarre phenomenon had been created by a hidden malevolent force that would soon make themselves known.

"No, wait a minute..." Rayne said to herself as she brainstormed about the blueness. She could see better in the dark after drinking her mother's blood four years ago, and what just happened now, that pale bluish illumination was a brighter version of her vision. It must be a new power that Rayne had somehow awakened and could now use. Besides giving Rayne even better night vision, it also lit up something with a bright blue aura.

What if that aura was the Vampire? Rayne, remembering that her new power (Aura Sense) manifested itself as she focused on the Vampire's spilled blood. Bright blue tinted Rayne's vision again, and the glowing aura reappeared. The pulsing light was farther away, but it appeared to be stationary this time. Rayne's instincts told her to head for that light.

"Here we go." She said to herself, rolling her shoulders, and taking a deep breath and then exhaling. Glancing skyward at the cloudy night sky, Rayne intoned "Wish me luck, everyone," to her departed family members before resuming her pursuit. The buildings across from Rayne were too far away for her to jump to, but the street below was empty, and she jumped down there. The dhampir girl started running as soon as her boots hit the ground, and she ran across the concrete and asphalt as fast as she could. Stopping only once in an alleyway to (carefully) hide her glass shard underneath her coat, Rayne quickly wove through the busier commercial streets of Manhattan, paying no attention to the bemused looks and angry curses of the New Yorkers.

Street signs and recognizing certain buildings helped Rayne to realize that she was heading towards the Brooklyn Bridge. The blue light grew brighter as Rayne reached the piers that lined the Hudson River. Lampposts and outside lights illuminated the now closed and mostly deserted waterfront, whose piers were doubtlessly being patrolled by security guards. The guards would not be an issue for Rayne, she was more than capable of avoiding or escaping them. Besides, the guards' billy clubs and handguns were less of a threat in comparison to the Vampire, who was lurking somewhere in the men's midst.

Rayne activated her Aura Sense and ran down the street until she located the pier where the light radiated from. Looking both ways for any sign of a patrolling security guard, which there wasn't now, Rayne ran across from the street to the pier. It was under the light of a lamppost that Rayne discovered drops of fresh blood on the ground. Crouching down to dip a fingertip in the blood, Rayne licked her finger and recognized the taste. The Vampire was here.

Looking down the side of the building, Rayne noticed that one of the windows had been broken, the jagged hole in the windowpane being big enough for a man to crawl through. Making one more quick surveillance of her surroundings, Rayne climbed through the window, unbothered by the cuts and slices made by the tiny pieces of glass in the broken pane on her hands and knees. Rubber soles crushing glass fragments underfoot echoed softly in Rayne's orbit as she snuck in. The area was a freight terminal where stevedores would unload and load a ship's cargo, and there were piles of wooden crates throughout the terminal by the freight doors.

None of the outside electric lights pierced the darkness inside the terminal, but, thanks to Rayne's superior eyesight, this was not an issue. Activating Aura Sense, Rayne jumped when she saw how big and blinding the blue light was now. It did indeed look like a miniature blue sun even though it gave off no heat. Rayne tightened her grip on the neck of her broken bottle, turned off Aura Sense, and proceeded into the terminal as stealthily as she could. Not a sound could be heard as Rayne cautiously and quietly made her way towards the Vampire's hiding place in the upper left corner of the terminal.

Edging her way down a wall of crates that framed the area the blue light emanated from, Rayne gripped the wall's corner and the neck of her broken bottle simultaneously. Inhaling quietly, Rayne propelled herself around the corner brandishing the jagged edge of her bottle in front of her. But the Vampire was not there. What was there was the still body of a black-clad security guard. The guard's handgun and still shining flashlight were lying on the ground on both his sides where he had dropped them.

Confused and disappointed at first that her target was not there, a flicker of melancholy took hold of Rayne as she approached the guard's body. She pulled down the uniform's collar and saw the bite marks on the right-side of the man's neck. Poor soul. Rayne could picture how the guard's last moments played out. He must have heard the Vampire breaking in through the window, came to investigate, and was attacked and drained by the terminal's supernatural intruder.

Wood sliding on wood was picked up by Rayne's ears as she contemplated the security guard's terrible fate. The noise was coming from behind Rayne on her right-side. She looked over her shoulder just as a huge crate was getting pushed off the edge of the pile to fall on top of her and the security guard's corpse.

"Shit!"

Rayne leapt over the body as the crate fell where she had formerly stood. The crate landed with a terrific crash, half of it breaking on the concrete floor, fracturing 2x4s and sending thick splinters flying. Rayne looked up at where the crate had been pushed off from only to see that nobody was there. There was a faint grunt, and before Rayne knew it, something heavy and strong knocked her down and pinned her to the floor like a nail in lumber. The broken bottle fell out of Rayne's hand just beyond her reach, the force of the impact breaking off its long "blade".

Rayne's green eyes met the Vampire's remaining eye, which glared hatefully at her through its amber-yellow glow. He opened his mouth, bloody drool dripping down his fangs, which the Vampire licked away with his tongue as he lowered his face down towards Rayne. But Rayne was able to worm her hands out from under the Vampire's grasp, using her left hand to close her attacker's mouth and push him away while reaching for her weapon with her right hand. After a few desperate tries, Rayne's straining fingers were able to grab the broken bottle. "Eat this, you bastard!" Rayne snarled as she plunged the jagged edge of the bottle into the left side of the Vampire's neck.

Deep red blood poured through the creature's mouth and between Rayne's fingers, and a muffled roar of pain shook the Vampire's jaws. Blood droplets landed on Rayne's face, and she released the glass after the Vampire let her go to get the broken bottle out of his neck. Rayne rose to her feet, her new priority being to find a new weapon (again) pronto. Time was of the essence even as the Vampire struggled to safely remove the jagged glass from his neck, who panted and hissed from the pain he was feeling. Rayne's search barely lasted a second when she spotted the damaged crate that the Vampire had tried to crush Rayne with earlier.

She ran over to the crate and yanked off a jagged 2x4 from it just as the Vampire pulled the broken bottle out of her neck. Rayne turned to face her opponent again with her new weapon in her hands. The Vampire's skirmishes with Rayne tonight had left him a bloody mess. His left eye had been clawed to ribbons, and now, there was a small gash on the left side of his neck, which the Vampire was covering with one of his hands. Choking on his own blood, the Vampire tilted his head down and opened his mouth, a crimson stream issuing forth and splattering on the floor.

When he looked back up, Rayne could both see and feel the vehement fury that was radiating from the creature's eye. "This meal better be worth it." was probably what the Vampire was thinking if he could think at all. He growled menacingly at Rayne and bared his ugly, blood-soaked fangs again at her. The unfolding scene was reminiscent of a Wild West showdown, like one of those Western movie scenes that Benny loved to reenact before his untimely death. The security guard's corpse laid between Rayne and the Vampire and acted as a dividing line for them.

Pulling away his bloody hand from his neck wound, the Vampire lunged at Rayne with a bestial fury over the corpse of his latest victim. He crashed into Rayne, but his upper chest was impaled on the sharp, jagged end of the broken 2x4 she held up when the creature lunged at her, which came out through the Vampire's back. The creature recoiled from his opponent, letting out his most powerful roar yet, a roar that was filled with pain, frustration and even fear. Rayne observed how the Vampire's hands gripped at the makeshift stake that had impaled him as he walked backward, tripping over the security guard's corpse and falling onto his left side. The Vampire's roar died down to a pitiful whimper as he laid there trembling on the floor.

Tendrils of steam rose from the Vampire's body, and Rayne could hear the animalistic whimpering develop a humanlike quality to it. Curious yet still wary, Rayne cautiously approached the Vampire to investigate what was happening to him. The Vampire suddenly turned over onto his other side with his right hand outstretched, and Rayne reacted by quickly taking two steps back. But this movement was not malicious at all as Rayne had initially thought; it was a hand reaching out for help. She noticed the trimmed, normal but bloody fingernails on the hand, and, as Rayne trailed her gaze down to the Vampire's face, she noticed that the creature had become human again.

His fangs had vanished, and the wolfish amber of the Vampire's eyes had changed to a light brown. "Swee... tie..." the man gurgled, fresh blood spilling over his lower lip and down his chin. That voice. Rayne's eyes widened as she remembered who that voice belonged to. It was the man who gave her his slice of pie at the soup kitchen last week on Thanksgiving! Rayne rushed towards the man, took his hand into hers and knelt beside him; he was not long for this world.

"Th... th.. Thank... y... you..." The man's voice was raspy thanks to his throat wound, but he was using the last of his strength to carry on talking. Rayne leaned forward so she could hear the man better, her grip on his hand was tight as his was on hers. "P... Patricia...," the man took a deep breath, "Gordon... She... d... did this to me..." Rayne nodded as she took in what the dying man was telling her.

"Who is Patricia Gordon? Where did you meet her?" Rayne asked, but her questions would go unanswered. Death finally delivered the poor man from his suffering. His hand went limp, his head lolled to the side, and lifelessness filled his eye.

Rayne gently lowered the kind dead man's hand to the floor, gently patting the hand before letting it go. Rising to her feet, the next thing a remorseful and contemplative Rayne did was to remove the 2x4 stake out of the man's chest and toss it aside. She felt bad for killing the Vampire now after learning who he had been prior to his transformation. But no one can turn back the clock, and Rayne did what she had to do to protect others from the Vampire. Rayne thought of crossing the man's arms, but she was interrupted by the sound of rushing footsteps and alarmed voices.

The terminal's door opened, and security guards swarmed inside bearing flashlights and firearms. The men spread out to investigate the area, searching for the cause of that terrible racket from earlier, some being convinced that the roar they had heard earlier belonged to some big cat that had escaped from a zoo. The guards soon found the bodies of one of their coworkers and the man who killed him, but they did not find Rayne. She had leapt onto the mountain range of crates and stealthily maneuvered around them as the guards conducted their search, eventually making her way out of the front door and disappearing into Manhattan with the security team being none the wiser. Rayne ran until she was sure she was safe, afterwards she slowed her pace down to a walk.

The name Patricia Gordon swam around Rayne's mind, but she could not think clearly due to exhaustion. Her body yearned for rest and sleep, and Rayne made finding a place to bed down for the night her number one priority; finding the mysterious Patricia could wait until tomorrow morning. Rayne was warm from the night's events, but Rayne knew she would cool down quickly from the cold, and she did not have access to a blanket. Leery of sleeping in an alleyway, Rayne's hopes rose when she saw a church on an empty street called St. Bartholomew's Catholic Church. Crossing the street to reach the church, Rayne couldn't believe her luck when she found the doors to be unlocked.

Stepping quietly into the vestibule and shutting the door behind her, Rayne made her way up into the nave. This city church was beautiful with its polished black and white tiled floors, stone columns, statuary, large lacquered wooden pews, both wood and stone carvings, chandeliers, and gold ornamentation. This holy beauty was nostalgic to Rayne, reminding her of the church she and her mother used to attend together back in Inwood as well as St. Mark's. Her attention fell upon the gentle, warming glow coming from the racks of votive candles that stood near the sanctuary. Dozens of pale flames danced on the wicks of white wax candles encased in red glass vases, and each flame represented a prayer, or a commemoration made by a parishioner.

Although she didn't believe in God anymore, Rayne felt compelled to light a candle in memory of the man she killed - no, saved. Taking a slender stick from a glass jar, Rayne held the stick over a lit candle to borrow some of the flame to light an unlit candle with it. With her votive candle lit, Rayne uttered a quick prayer for the man's soul. Finishing off her prayer with the sign of the cross, Rayne marched towards the nearest pew and tried to make herself comfortable on it. Uncomfortable as the pew was, Rayne's tiredness, as well as the soothing silence of her beautiful surroundings, soon lulled her to sleep.

She would have a peaceful night there in St. Bartholomew's.


What has Changed:

1. Dates: This chapter originally took place on November 30th. I changed the date to coincide with the kind man's transformation into a vampire (1 week). Coincidentally, December 5, 1929 would have been Jay's fourth birthday if he was still alive... His older sister Betty's fifth birthday would have taken place five days later on the 10th...

2. Name(s): Culder (Origins) - Calder (Rebirth)

3. Rayne fought the Vampire on the shoreline of the Hudson River in the original story, but when I looked up old photos of the Brooklyn Bridge from the 1920s, I couldn't find any beachline around the river. That's why Rayne's final battle with the Vampire takes place in a terminal in the remake instead.

4. Rayne slept by an apartment building after listening to a radio broadcast about Angel's Mercy in the original story. Figured that a church would be safer, plus I thought it would be poignant for Rayne to light a votive candle in memory of the vampire she killed.

5. Fun Fact: I looked up the weather in NYC around the time this chapter takes place in, and it did snow and sleet in early December 1929. Also, there weren't any broadcasts of Amos & Andy around that time too, the last episode of that year having aired the month before in November. That's why I don't mention Amos & Andy in the remake.

This is the last of the chapters that I wrote before I published this story. I've some of chapter 10 written, but I'm going to take a break and work on Reign of the Dragon Queen for a bit. Been neglecting that one for a while and I want to try and publish some chapters for that story. Anyway, thanks for reading. I hope you are enjoying the remake so far!