• Part One


    Rosemary leaped from the ceiling in front of me. She was eighteen, two years younger than me, and often childlike. Unfortunately, she would never be nineteen, or twenty. She was stuck in her tiny figure, cursed by immortality, never to have a normal life again.

    “Jake, when are we going to go hunting? I’m hungry!” she moaned.

    “Not until it’s too dark to see. Just like the creator said so,” I said coldly. My scarlet eyes glanced over to her and she shuddered, I was like her older brother but even I scared her. I took the few brown little strands of hair from my face. It was often all over the place because I normally don’t brush it out. Why bother when you’re perfect?

    “That old bat doesn’t even hunt for his food!” Rosemary flipped her long black hair out of her big glowing crimson eyes. Her hair was in layers and spiked to the sides.

    “Well, if we leave now he would know,” I pointed to the corner of the room where a security camera was recording and LCD monitor was displaying our every action.

    “Yes, he is correct, I would,” a familiar chilling voice cooed, “Rosemary, darling, would you like to wait until the sun set?”

    Rosemary skipped happily to the surveillance screen, “But Master,” she turned to the small window, “The sun is setting now.”

    “Exactly, be gone.

    “Jake! Enter into my chamber, now. We need to discuss tonight’s prey.”
    Rosemary pouted as I trotted down the spiral staircase into the next room. She was never allowed in unless she had someone with her.

    “Vladimir,” I said coolly.

    Vladimir was sitting in a ruby red throne-like chair surrounded by beautiful women. Each with silver-blond hair or with dark ebony locks. They all had illuminating red eyes except for one. Her eyes were a stunning pale blue.

    A saved meal.

    Vladimir himself had snow-white hair which was always combed back. His pitch black eyes were piercing and somewhat destructive so I never looked into them.

    “This is Vanessa,” he purred as he pointed at the blue-eyed girl with a pale, cold finger. He gave a warm smile to her, careful not to show his teeth.

    I directed my eyes to her and she shivered. Insensitive by this, I looked back into Vladimir’s ominous, haunting stare.

    “Rosemary is looking for another male. Possibly a potential mate she met at the club. He’s pretty strong looking for a mere human. Maybe he could be a bodyguard.”

    Vladimir had a special talent where he can read people’s thoughts. He can even see what other people are seeing through their eyes. It’s easy to tell when he does this because his eyes change to the color of the eyes he is seeing through.

    He blinked and his eyes changed from crimson to orange-red, his normal eye color. “I want you to find this woman. She lives on Handover Road in the red building. Up the stairs and the first door on the right,” he said as one woman with dark hair in a black strapless dress handed me a newspaper clipping of a plump woman, looking in her fifties. “Her husband has just passed away. I want you to comfort her. If her daughter is there you might need to help her, too.” He smirked, “They are both sleeping. Now be gone.”

    As I casually walked into the other room, I grabbed my leather pouch which held a very fine pocket knife and a coil of rope. Vladimir told us to never use a gun. It would taint the blood.

    “Come over here Vanessa, dear. Sit on my lap.” I heard him say.
    Then there was a series of hiss-like sounds and a hideous, heart shattering scream.

    Part 2


    A gentle breeze blew against me on this cool April night as I stared at the street sign that read Hanover Rd. The sun had already set which left the sky purple and pink. If this was a normal night I would appreciate this set.

    Then again, I wasn’t a normal man.

    I walked slowly down the middle of the small concrete path. The houses were an array of colors with no utter pattern. They all looked the same with white fences around the two-story house and garage.

    The only red house was at the end of the road next to the woods. I surveyed the area.

    No dog, no front light. Perfect.

    I ran into the forest, kicked off my sneakers, placed then into my pouch, slung it over y shoulder, and went down on all fours. Brown hair sprouted all over my body and my nose extended out from my face. I felt my teeth and ears growing longer and my sight, smell, and hearing senses advance.

    I had become a wolf, a bloodthirsty wolf.

    I stalked into the fence, trying to find a valid place to enter the building. Eventually I found the back door slightly open and edged myself in ever so carefully. I know what you’re thinking. Vampires can’t turn into wolves. Well you’re right, on most cases. Most of us can’t I’m the only one in my family who can actually turn into a wolf, which makes me a lot faster and a lot more brutal when it come to combat. I can also see past walls up to one hundred feet away and hear what is going on in that one area.

    With quiet steps I proceeded up the stairs and to the first door in the little hallway. I leered past the wall to see the old woman was sleeping comfortably in her queen-sized bed.

    I stood on hind legs and turned the knob little by little with my front paw, while turning my ears this way and that careful make sure the granddaughter was not home.

    The door pushed slightly forward, exposing the smell of perfume to my already sensitive nose. Success.

    I nudged at the door with my nose and it opened gradually. When it got big enough for me to enter, I did.

    The room was average size, big enough for a couple of people to walk around in. On the opposite wall were windows, which could be useful for a sudden escape. The bed where the woman lay was placed against the left wall, beside her was a picture of her family – an older man, probably her husband; a young woman look looked in her early twenties, and herself.

    Across from her was a vanity up against the right wall on top was a number of colored bottles of different shapes and sizes, containing the scented liquid.
    I edged closer to the old woman, and her features grew more and more detailed. Her cheeks shined in moonlight, showing she had cried herself to sleep, and in her hand was a handkerchief which supported this theory.
    The wind blew from the inch wide opening in from the window, pushing the white curtains forward, and sending the smell of flowers into my nostrils.

    I sneezed, and even worse, loudly.

    “Rob, is that you?” the woman asked half-asleep.

    I tensed up, but then I noticed she was facing the other direction.

    I decided to use my last ability, but for it I would need to morph back.

    I changed back, the morphing process in reverse. Luckily, my clothes stay on my body but not seen when in wolf form, and my bad was still over my shoulder.

    I walked up to the woman’s bed, and she turned towards me, “Rob, I missed you.”

    I made her see, hear, feel, even smell me as anything I wanted her to see. In this case it was her husband. This was a type of mind control, but the cruelest kind.
    “Darling,” I said in a very convincing I’m-in-love-with-you voice, “I want you to come with me back to Heaven. We will be together forever, just you and me.” She was hearing his voice right now, not mine. As far as she knew, I was Rob.

    How cowardly, I was acting as a dead guy to kill his wife. Before, it would have been very difficult to act this part. But as time progressed, I got over it. I smiled to her.

    “Oh of course, please. Take me away with you,” she whimpered.

    “Close your eyes. You won’t feel a thing. Then we can be together for the rest of eternity,” I whispered.

    I opened the pouch, took out the coil of rope, and wrapped it around her neck. She was smiling happily, her eyes closed.
    “Welcome to Heaven, sweetheart.”

    I yanked on either end of the rope in a quick, strong motion. There was a loud crack, and I felt her heart slow until it finally stopped.

    I opened the nearby window, took the rope from around her neck, and picked her up with just one arm. Behind me I heard the creaking of the door opening and turned to see the woman’s granddaughter.

    “W-what have you done?” She breathed.

    I glanced to the body, “Well I have a family to feed. Wouldn’t you have done the same?” I pulled the pocket knife from my bag and revealed the blade.
    She backed against the hallway wall, her hands over her mouth and throat, and sank to the floor. “Don’t kill me, I’m begging,” her voice shook and tears fell from her face to the carpet below.

    I looked from the blade back to the girl, “Not tonight,” I muttered.

    I ran out the open window, when I looked to window, she was there, crying hysterically. I headed towards home.