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Johan smiled at Marcy as she asked how things had gone.


"No actually, just setting up meeting times. I've decided that I'll give you today to roam around the house, make sure you have everything you'll be needing, and... tend your garden. I'm afraid I'm terrible at giving tours of anything and it is a big house..." He shrugged, "unfortunately today I can't take you with me, but soon, tomorrow if everything works out tonight."


He went into the hallway, adjacent to the kitchen and opened the closet there with his hand-print. He stepped inside and the door shut behind him, clicking locked, however, it obviously wasn't very sound proof because Marcy could hear him shuffling about in it.


"Besides, you strike me as a very serious person, and I'm going to a far less than serious event. I'm meeting a friend from back home, although friend is hardly the word I'd use. He's a stuck up, pompous, genius of a kid, and his father is good friends with my uncle. Because of this... I was forced to tolerate him as my playmate most of my young life. I figured when I came here to go to school I had rid myself of his presence..." There was a loud bang, "ow!" followed by a popping sound and then the sound of someone falling down a flight of stairs ending with a thud...


A few moments later there was the sound of someone walking up the stairs, this time with something heavy on their feet. Johan's voice floated up the flight of stairs getting closer as he made his way back up, but now it sounded like there was something in his mouth he was talking around.


"I'm ok, sorry, changing clothes and talking at the same time, then neck piece got caught in my... right nevermind. Oh yes, my uncle's friend's child, anyways, he's in America for the most odd reason, to attend an anime convention in Las Vegas. And I'm... required... to attend..."


The door suddenly opened and Johan stepped out, slamming the door behind him and pointing a very over-sized handgun in Marcy's direction.


"Well..." Johan smiled, revealing pointy fangs that were already pocking out between his lips, obviously that was what was causing his voice to sound a bit off, they were his real fangs, fully extended, of course he didn't mention that bit.


"Do I look like this guy?" Johan took a poster out of the pocket of his ridiculous looking red jacket and unraveled it, sticking the "gun" oddly into one of the pockets of his leather pants.


"I'm supposed to be Alucard, a vampire of all things, from an old Japanese show. Why? Because my friend is going to come as "Priest" an epic vampire slayer so he can kill me and whatever..." Johan rolled his eyes, which were red now, very red, he had taken out his contact lenses. His long hair was also insta-dyed black. and he wore a red hat, he looked... rather comical, a little more than freaky, and completely... out of character, considering anything else he'd ever worn was not the least like these clothes.


"He went to all the trouble of having this costume tailored to fit be and buying me contact lenses... so I really couldn't think of a good enough excuse not to wear it." His phone beeped, "oops" he put a hand into his pocket and pulled it out, removing the yellowish sunglasses so he could see the screen properly. Everyone had replied in short order it seemed... he quickly sent a response to Rals, everyone else could wait.


Vital new information, come if convenient, will be at Pizza Hut in 5 min. Joran's life in danger! Will come alone.




PS: If inconvenient come anyway. Very important! 15 minutes, don't be late! Life or Death!


Will be wearing red hat...


Johan feigned a frown and rolled his eyes, shutting the phone.

"And he's waiting for me at the airport, at least I can claim I have a wonderful excuse to make him wait. I had friend over, and she was teaching me how to cook..." he winked, "now if you burnt something and set off the smoke alarm I could make him wait another ten whole minutes!" Johan almost sounded half serious. It was obvious that when he was at home... he was a little less serious and more... perhaps like himself, than when he was outside and 'acting' the part of a proper Richie.

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Graham's teeth remained bared as he circled Joran, listening intently to the words that stuttered out of his enemy's mouth, hanging on every word and looking for the fault in it like a child looking for the slightest fault in his ugly aunt-made sweater so that he could have an excuse not to wear it anymore. Hah. Joran said he wasn't the bad guy? He was the one who marred Graham's face and made his nose hurt even more. Wait, was he suggesting that Graham was the bad guy? No! No, that didn't happen! Graham was the good guy. He was the one getting rid of the traitor, not Joran. Right? For a moment he wavered and paused, lingering as he stared at Joran for the smallest of seconds, ears swiveling from the back of his head to angle towards the sparkly Vampire before him wit curiosity. And then he got a grip of himself again. Or lost it, depending on your perspective. A snarl came from his throat again and he shook his head as if trying to get rid of the "untruthful" things that Joran was saying. Joran's the bad guy. He's the bad one. He hurt you. He tried to set you up with Rals, knowing that she was a big strong werewolf that would kill you in advance. That's right, Graham, he's the bad one. He was plotting all along not just to hurt you, but to kill you. He wants your blood, Graham. Give him what he wants. Give him blood, but don't give him your own. Kill him. But first, mislead him. Betray him as he did you. Shift back into a human, regain your senses, but remember Ridell, I'm waiting. Watching. Sitting back until the time is right once more. Let him think you're healed, that you've come to a realization of what you're doing. I'll be patient, Graham. We'll kill him sure enough, but we'll kill him when I know the time is right. And that time isn't now."


Graham stopped, looked at Joran miserably, and loped off. It was common practice for werewolves to stash clothes out in the middle of the woods, and he had a scent of one. It was the scent of a wolf mixed with the aroma of freshly washed clothing. Couldn't be more than a day old. He sniffed around, finally finding the clothing which was literally hidden between a rock and a hard place. The clothing was a bit big, likely there for someone who was more muscular than he, but he was happy just to have some in such close proximity. He pulled on the clothing and quickly walked back to Joran, looking ashamed, sheepish, and altogether miserable. Closing his grey eyes, he sighed, chewing on his lip. And looked down at what he was wearing. Much to his mortification, it was sweatpants and a sweatshirt, two horrifically casual things to be wearing for him. Slightly embarrassed and extremely uncomfortable, he dipped his head awkwardly and walked forward. it was clear he wasn't about to do anything hostile.


"I'm sorry. I-I don't know what that was. I... sometimes I lose myself when my instincts kick in. I get absorbed into the hunt. I don't like to let my prey go once I've got my sights on them. I justify it. And by the way..." he murmured, a half-smile on his face. He pushed Joran's fists into a better defensive position. "The stereotypical boxing position is sometimes used in matches, but it's so cliche that any good boxer knows how to get around it. If you still want boxing lessons, I can teach you. Consider it my apology, since I'm bad at apologizing and I hate doing it," he laughed awkwardly, ducking his head once more before lifting it and looking at Joran. He needed to apologize and he needed the Vampire to believe him. He couldn't tell if he wanted to because he actually felt bad, or because he wanted to kill Joran. "Um... I should... go...?" he asked uncertainly, briefly glancing around him. "And your best bet would've been to fight me, or to call for Rals. Four legs are faster than two. But boxing is my forte, so you wouldn't want to turn it into a fistfight, trust me. But... ah..." he paused, once again seemingly at a loss for words. He felt like he had to talk, but didn't know what to say.

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Marcy raised an eyebrow as Johan spoke about being able to take her somewhere on the morrow, but she didn’t really think much of eat and started to snack on a few vegetables. On the other side of the wall, it wasn’t too hard to hear Joran rummaging around in some sort of closet that she had failed to notice as he again started to speak. It wasn’t too hard to hear him since only a wall separated his voice from her ears.


He was talking about not going to a serious event and she had to stifle a chuckle as she thought of him going to a silly party that didn’t involve strict dress codes and eating habits. But it was for a companion of his that his father had forced him to play with. It seemed that he didn’t like the boy that he was having to meet with because he was a priggish kind of being but then she heard a loud bang and leaned over the counter just in time to see Johan go flying down the stairs.


Before he could walk up the stairs, she covered her mouth trying not to laugh too hard, but when she heard him say that he was okay and what had happened, a loud guffaw came from her and she couldn’t stop for a moment. Just the thought of him falling down the stairs was ridiculous. Not only that, but as he appeared in front of her, she could see the reason that he was talking in a muffled way but just the way he was dressed.


“I’m sorry….I’m sorry.” She breathed in quickly then tried to get herself to stop laughing. It took her a moment to calm herself but when she looked up, she started to laugh again because now Johan was holding up a crazed looking photograph of an old anime character. The character looked as insane as she thought that Johan was which didn’t help her laughing situation at all.

“yeah…yeah you do…..” she took a deep breath and then realized how silly he was being, let alone how loose he was acting.


“You sure did hit your head pretty hard didn’t you?” she asked as she walked over to him and inspected the outfit. “Well, it’s a really well made.” She said and gently tightened the neckpiece as well as made sure that his jacket was in line perfectly with the line of the buttons on his vest. “There…if you want, I can send you with a protein shake that way you can concentrate on that instead of listening to him…that or I can call you every five minutes.” She said trying not to laugh as she stepped back but it wasn’t really working.


“This is hilarious. First I meet you and you are all uptight as if you have something up where the sun doesn’t shine, and now here you are, joking around, and…and….not serious!” she was shocked and surprised at how quickly she let herself express what she was saying. “you had better get going Johan. Don’t want to make a bad impression for your father.”

Another laugh escaped her as she munched on a piece of fruit.


From the back of the warehouse there was a calm growl that was heard above the rest besides Rals’ own growl. “Pain in the ass Vampyre.” The voice was deep and mellow as well as angry that the Vampyre wouldn’t go away. There stood a being in the shadows that stretched and yawned as he took a few steps forward then was joined by a much smaller form.


As they two walked forward, a toothy grin came across the larger ones face as he smiled at the puny Vampyre in front of him. “Why don’t you just leave before she tears you to pieces? She didn’t get her job for no reason.” The voice came again as he walked out from the shadows and laid his hand on Rals shoulder in a protective manner. “Besides, you go against her, you might as well commit suicide with her entire pack around her.” The werewolf was lithe and seemed to be ready to pounce at any moment. Across his hips, there hung a loincloth for good measure and his ears were pierced in several places.


From behind him there came the younger wolf. She was very, very young for an immortal but she was pretty much like Rals was, but didn’t have the force of character. “Alphess, who is this?” she asked Rals as she looked at Xander evenly. She was seven feet tall in her werewolf form which was rather average, but short compared to her father and his family. “Is he threatening you?” A yawn came from the green-eyed wolf before she shifted the loincloth that hung from her hips and then the cloth that was wrapped around her chest for modest reasons. “And where is our charge?” she almost panicked when she didn’t smell Joran in near proximity.

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Joran winced again as Graham snarled. This was it; all hope of regaining Graham as an ally left Joran and he swallowed, prepared to fight. Yes, Graham had lost it and was totally brainwashed by Steel, and now Joran was doomed to somehow survive the fight without completing the cowardly image of himself he was certain he'd been building all this time. Then, right as he was sure Graham would lunge, Graham stopped his snarling, gave Joran the look of misery, and left. Joran just stood there, blinking in confusion. Waaaaait.... he did NOT just run off to grab more of his pack, did he? Wasn't that big wolf guy like his Alpha or something? Joran shifted on his feet and cleared his throat, not sure whether to try to follow Graham or run the opposite direction. He took too long to make up his mind and suddenly he heard Graham's footsteps coming... but they were human. My pistol! Joran listened wide-eyed to the rhythms of Graham's steps, trying to decipher whether or not there was violent intent.


He guessed--dearly hoping he was right--that Graham didn't have guns and didn't intend to shoot him. If Graham did have guns and knew how to aim... well, at least it'd be quick. I hope. It was a long shot, but it seemed Joran was right; he could have died of relief when he saw Graham walking back towards him like a normal human, though looking quite embarrassed and unhappy. Joran felt no such feelings, only immense relief and a new sense of hope.


"I'm sorry. I-I don't know what that was. I... sometimes I lose myself when my instincts kick in. I get absorbed into the hunt. I don't like to let my prey go once I've got my sights on them. I justify it. And by the way..."


Joran almost stepped back when Graham approached and reached for Joran's fists. Joran was surprised to realize that he hadn't unclenched his fists the entire time, and he quickly realized that Graham was moving them to a different defensive position. Now even he felt a tad sheepish; he had probably looked quite stupid, holding his fists how he had been. "The stereotypical boxing position is sometimes used in matches, but it's so cliche that any good boxer knows how to get around it. If you still want boxing lessons, I can teach you. Consider it my apology, since I'm bad at apologizing and I hate doing it." Joran shrugged when Graham laughed. "Boxing is something I should probably learn," he said awkwardly. He wanted to say the whole crazy-wolf-pursuit-thing was no big deal, but he really wasn't sure if he should say that; he didn't know how Americans would react to it. If he told a Russian it was no big deal they had transformed into a werewolf and almost chomped his head off, they'd take that as 'go on, do it anytime! I need the scare.'


"Um... I should... go...? And your best bet would've been to fight me, or to call for Rals. Four legs are faster than two. But boxing is my forte, so you wouldn't want to turn it into a fistfight, trust me. But... ah..."


There was a small moment of silence, then Joran grinned (though the air of cockiness he usually held about him was gone). "Hey, it's no big deal! You don't have to go anywhere, your buddy Xander and the Alphess Rals are just duking it out or something, some sort of challenge of elders." That made Joran curious as to how old Graham was, but he decided not to ask. "Anyway, if I'd actually intended to try to win that battle I would have just used this, especially if you became human and decided to box," he said, pulling out his pistol and dropping it casually on the ground. The safety was on, but it was definitely loaded. "Not saying I would have been fast enough or even that I would have wanted to use it! I've... never actually killed or shot anyone before..." Joran was silent for a second, wondering if American Vampyres carried around guns and shot their enemies. Somehow he doubted it, and realized that maybe showing Graham the gun was a mistake. Oh well! It's on the ground now, so that's gotta prove that I wouldn't have used it! "I really am sorry about clawing you, and I'm really glad you're not human because I probably would have scratched through your skull then." Then he got an idea, and his eyes lit. "Oh hey, hold on a sec!"


It was the least he could do, he figured, since he could tell Graham didn't like apologizing and yet he had somehow overcome his inner wolf and was here apologizing. Joran had high respect for a man that could do that, for it wasn't common to get an apology in Iceland, much less have a man admit he was wrong. Joran turned his right side to Graham so Graham didn't have to watch if he didn't want to. Then, clenching his jaw, Joran slowly scratched the length of his sparkly left arm hard enough to make it bleed. He scratched the top of it from the beginning of the shoulder to the elbow, then paused a moment to watch the blood seep its way past the skin. "Here!" He grinned and held the arm out towards Graham. "That ought to heal your face if you rub a little on. In Iceland my cousins beat each other up all then time, then use each other's blood to heal their wounds! I've never actually done it cause none of them wanted my blood to touch them, but it seems to work for them."

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Dana wandered through the forest, still in a daze. There had been an attack in her dorm room, Julianna had been attacked... something had attacked her.


I attacked her!


The thought vanished as soon as it appeared, she still couldn't process it. Hunger, yes she knew she had been hungry, very hungry.


Julianna had started making something for her but she wasn't fast enough, so slow! Everything was so slow! Nothing in the firdge tasted any good, none o fit helped, then the fridge had fallen over when she slammed the door really hard, Julianna had been startled while holding the knife and... blood... there had been blood, a little... then a lot, so much, so warm and filling and it made the hunger stop, she had...




A wild animal had come in through the glass door, attacked them, and now it was chasing her, she was sure of it! But she couldn't see right, and everything was so loud it hurt her ears, she wished the sirens from miles away would just stop, that the birds would quit their infernal racket, she couldn't think with all this noise!


and then it was there again... hungry, hungry, hungry, a little voice that kept chanting happily away in her gut. As she walked it was soon all she could think about, and everything else ceased to matter, she was hungry, so hungry, it hurt so much!


There had to be someone around with food, warm, red fo... no... with food, some food.


And then there was the mansion, appearing in the clearing like a giant against the forest and the trees. Like an ancient fortress... Dana only hoped it had a refridgerator... or some occupants that wouldn't mind losing their...



one voice shouted


the other corrected, but for some reason... they seemed like synonyms to her.


Dana collapsed against the door, clutching her stomach. She raised a fist painfully and hit the door with all her might... which was considerable, and the double oak doors shuddered with the impact.


She was so hungry... the memories were all clear now... and tears were streaming down her face... but she couldn't focus on it, on them, on anything but food. Her body seemed to have a mind of it's own, and though she wanted to curl up and cry, to run and find Julianna, to... end her life even... none of those thoughts seemed to make a difference to her limbs, which were bent on food, on blood, blood lust.

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“This is not intended as an insult Rals, but, I AM 350 years old…sometimes your old language comes back and bites you in the butt making you sound like a fool.” Ohohoho! Look at him, telling me this! Hypocrit!

When Joran stepped between them though, Xander let out a huff of irritation. he seemed annoyed that Joran was interuppting his elder mojo with news about the possible destruction about America. “You’re right, but you had been quiet for so long, and you are quite pale beyond your natural color. Are you feeling alright? That’s beside what you wanted to say isn’t it? Please, do go on….but once you are done, I am itching to ‘Prove’ myself to this Alphess.”

Joran seemed extremely irritated about Xander just wanting to 'prove' himself to Rals, and Rals was pretty annoyed. She assumed that Xander's mission was to find Joran and convince him to come with Xander and meet with the elders.

"Nevermind," he said, Nordic accent still happily flowing free, "just go on and prove yourself to Rals, have fun, the world can wait, you know what's important." Joran moved himself out of the way, sitting on a rock a distance away from Xander and Rals. "Hey I'm going shopping again, I'll be back soon," he called to Rals. "Don't let him prove himself with ease," Joran said, and Rals nodded. He wasn't a baby; it wasn't her job to loom over everything he did. From the back of the warehouse there was a calm growl that was heard above the rest besides Rals’ own growl. “Pain in the ass Vampyre.” Rals smiled. "So good of you two to join us." she said, as the two walked forward. “Why don’t you just leave before she tears you to pieces? She didn’t get her job for no reason.” The voice came again as Jaylan, her Beta, walked out from the shadows and laid his hand on Rals shoulder in a protective manner. “Besides, you go against her, you might as well commit suicide with her entire pack around her.”

From behind him there came Wynter. Rals was pretty fond of the young werewolf, though it wasn't her duty to show favorites in the pack. “Alphess, who is this?” she asked Rals as she looked at Xander evenly.“Is he threatening you?” A yawn came from the green-eyed wolf. “And where is our charge?” she almost panicked when she didn’t smell Joran in near proximity.

"It's alright, Wynter. It's not our duty to protect him anymore unless he is in immediate danger again. As for this person, he is Xander, an elder. And unless he is also senile, he will realize that his first priority is not to prove himself to me, but to keep his country from being destroyed by Russia." Rals said, her smile widening as her sarcasm grew. "Xander, this is my Beta, Jaylan, and his daughter, Wynter."

Just then her cellphone buzzed in her pocket again, and Rals pulled it out.

Vital new information, come if convenient, will be at Pizza Hut in 5 min. Joran's life in danger! Will come alone.




PS: If inconvenient come anyway. Very important! 15 minutes, don't be late! Life or Death!


Will be wearing red hat...

Rals looked at her Beta and Wynter. "You guys up to coming to Pizza Hut with me? I'm meeting with an informant who might be non-human." she asked, looking up at Jaylan. It would be best to have someone with experience like him on her side.

Edited by Darkshadow

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She was stuffed, but starving; she had eaten and eaten, but was still hungry. Something was terribly wrong, and now as she munched pretzels from a bag, Kanthaya was desperately (and with no success) searching a medical book for answers. A lack in some sort of nutrient was all it came up with, but she had eaten things that should have sated such cravings. Ice-cream, pineapple, orange-juice, fish oil pills, milk, water, pizza, bread, candy, even pure vanilla extract! She didn't know why she was doing this and frankly she was very scared. Someone... someone had to know what was wrong! Yes, she'd contact a doctor. But what could a doctor do? Kanthaya was shy, but she wasn't stupid; she knew what kind of things would cause crazed eating, and she didn't have any other symptoms related to some of the awful diseases. Oh, and she felt great; her vision was super clear, her body was strong, and everything smelled great.


It had been fifteen minutes, and Kanthaya threw aside the medical book in frustration. It had no answers! Nothing in it was useful! She finally decided that perhaps now would be a good time to get out of her party dress; it was dirty and wrinkled anyway. Huffing in frustration and feeling rather sick from the food she had eaten, Kanthaya entered her bedroom in great moodiness. Her house consisted of three small rooms; the sleeping room, the kitchen and the living room. Unlike Marcy, Kanthaya didn't live off-campus. She felt safer when she was surrounded by people, even if they didn't really like her and even if her dorm was sort of secluded and the worst one around. Still, she considered herself lucky to even have a dorm amongst the richer population.


Kanthaya entered her bedroom. As she did so, she glanced in the mirror. This was a habit of hers, something she always did when entering her bedroom. She never really noticed what a habit it was, but now it made use of itself. Kanthaya gasped as she noticed that her skin was not its normal shade of brown; she was pale. Well, as pale as a dark skinned person could be. It was more... greyish. She swallowed; now she knew something was very wrong with her. However, all of the small scars and blemishes she had previously had on her face were also gone. She swallowed and slowly approached the mirror, a pang of hunger reminding her of her problems. But... my face. It's so clear, so healthy so... oh my gosh. The vial! But I didn't drink any! Did I? Did I have an open cut on my hand and get some of that rat into my--wait, I spilled some on me! But that was on my skin, not in a wound! And yet it evaporated so quickly, and there was a spot on my skin--


Kanthaya silently gawked at herself in the mirror as the answer became clear: it was impossible and it made no sense, but the drop that had hit her skin had sunk into it and was causing these crazy changes. Kanthaya stood and stared for another moment before finally she backed away from the mirror. "Okay, calm down; you know what's happening, Thaya. The hunger is just a weird side-effect... as is the grey skin and irritable mood..." Kanthaya was puzzled now. She left the mirror to get into a more comfortable outfit, but all the while she mulled over questions in her head. Should she ask Johan if he knew what was going on? Should she call Marcy first? Was Marcy even okay? She decided her best option was to call Marcy first and see if Marcy had had any negative side-effects she simply didn't wish to speak about in public. Walking back to the kitchen to grab some salad, Kanthaya took out her cell-phone. But Johan had said not to tell Marcy! Yet she didn't know Johan's cell-phone number, and certainly Marcy did. She decided to at least ask Marcy if there were any side-effects she hadn't spoken of, and so she dialed Marcy's number.


"Please, please pick up," she whispered.

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Before Arata could respond to Carmandy, she found herself twitching at the sound of someone banging on the door. She had just received a message to look out for a woman that seemed to be transformed into a Vampress. It was a sad fact, but well, at least she would be happy now. She would never be sad again and probably always find a man that would be able to keep up with her instead of falling far behind her athletic beauty.


Carmandy smiled at Arata apologetically before turning around and walking to the front door quickly. When she arrived there, she was surprised to see several of the Vampyric men as well as werewolves staring at a woman from within the home of which they were accustomed. Carmandy rolled her eyes and then stepped up beside the woman and gently laid a firm hand on the girls shoulder. “Dana?” she said with surprise as she gently lifted the girl to make sure of her identity. “What have you gotten yourself in to?” Carmandy asked sympathetically then opened the door and picked the girl up carefully. She was probably confused and had no idea what to do.


The bedlam that ensued as soon as she opened the door put her on edge, but as single growl from her set the room to being quiet. A small woof was directed towards where Arata was so that he could follow if he wished for she didn’t really want to be away from him just yet. With deliberate steps, Carmandy walked up the stairs to her room and placed Dana on her bed then sat a ways from her until the girl regained any sort of consciousness. There was a glass of water beside her bed, as well as a bag of blood. However it wasn’t human blood, but rather animal blood. It was the type of blood that just about all American Vampyres drank for the taste of human blood was something that they had a hard time drinking.



Xander hissed at the new Werewolf that arrived but realized that he was in the wrong and it was pointed out by two that were younger than he. What was getting into him? He apologized quickly and stepped outside to clear his mind. Something wasn’t right and he didn’t doubt that the stress of what was going on wasn’t doing him any good at all. When he stepped outside he noticed that Graham was standing near Joran and knew that he had to apologize to Joran as well. It took him a minute to get there since he walked at his human speed and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry Joran…my head isn’t clear. The information that you gave us has been very disturbing.” He looked between the two of them and noted that something was off with Graham but decided that it was Carmandy’s place to ask that question.


Wynter chuckled at Rals’ joke and sarcasm but it didn’t seem to entertain the Vampyre as he walked away quickly. “He seems troubled…” Wynter yawned again but then found herself itching the back of her ear as he allowed her distress over Joran to disappear. What Rals said went so it was easy for her to change her mind to something else. When Rals mentioned something about Pizza Hut, Wynter grinned with a big smile and looked at her with something akin to glee. “I haven’t had Pizza in ages!” she said happily and then decided to change into her human form.


With only her pack there, she normally wouldn’t have felt like she had to hide to change into her human form, but she did need to change clothes. It took her a moment to find her clothes amongst those that they had for all of the wolves but once she had, she shifted to her human form quickly without regard to the pain that sometimes occurred especially when a wolf was underneath the benchmark of one hundred years old.

Her hair was tied back away from her face but her bangs were around her face and framed them nicely.


When she jumped over the boxes, she was in a pair of skinny jeans and a cute shirt that one of the other female wolves had found some time ago. Over her cream colored shirt, she wore a fringe leather jacket as well as her stone necklace that was always on her whether or not she was in her wolf form, werewolf or human form. “Ready!” she said with more anticipation that she probably should have had.



Her father, Jaylan, nodded at Rals whens she asked if they were coming. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”


His voice was kind to her, but dangerous to others. It was something that he thought made him rather irritating, but hey, Rals kept him around instead of leaving him alone and never looking at him again. It took him a moment to really think of what they should do as a precaution, but as long as they were together, they should be fine.


He too jumped behind where his daughter had gone and shifted into his human form. He stood there and looked in the mirror that had been placed there for the females. On his face, to the right hand side of his lips there was a scar that had never disappeared even in his 270 years of age. It was irritating that it wouldn’t disappear, but he couldn’t let get him at times like that. He then looked at his steely blue eyes and grimaced. They weren’t kind towards himself, but as long as they were kind to his daughter and his pack, he was fine.


It took longer for him to find a good looking outfit and was glad that the other pack members had the presence of mind to hang up his clothes. He quickly pulled on his dark black slacks and dark red button up shirt that was tucked into his pants. On his feet he wore perfectly shined boots instead of dress shoes. They too were black like his pants and around his neck he wore a black bolo with garnets set within sterling silver.


He jumped over the boxes and landed beside Rals. “Ready when you are.”


Marcy looked around the kitchen trying to distract herself from Johan who was still looking as silly as ever and decided that she should probably pick up the dishes that she had just eaten from. As she placed them in the sink, she heard a familiar noise and wasn’t sure where it was coming from until she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. Within seconds the phone was looked at to see who it was and Marcy almost felt panicked. Her skin paled slightly because Kanthaya never EVER called her unless it was an emergency. She looked up at Johan and then turned around and walked into the hallway where it was nice and open. With a deep breath she answered the phone. “Kanthaya? Are you okay?”


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Johan had nodded to Marcy's encouraging and been on his way out when she answered her phone. Fortunately his ears picked up on what she said. He frowned, grinding his teeth together. This was a bad time, and he hadn't expected her to call so soon. She had said she wouldn't tell Marcy about the medicine, and since he didn't take her for a liar then she was calling about something else, and the way Marcy answered the phone meant there was only one thing that could have happened.


so soon! She turned too soon... And I don't have time to treat her... not yet... he suddenly regretted sending his last text message... but that was important too! Still... this could ruin everything with Marcy if Kanthaya came over, Marcy actually could wind up quite dead, even by the fangs of her best friend. Then Johan had an idea... Before stepping out of the house he took an empty vial from the safe in the closet and a syringe. He would have to make her his first stop...


He stepped out of the house and was gone in a flash. Fortunately Kanthaya lived where most of the poorlings resided, a less kept part of campus, accessible mostly by forest and not crowded with humans walking all about. Johan got there... so he believed, without incident. Marcy must still be on the phone with her, maybe not even through her reply... which meant... he needed to get her off the phone, and to do that, Kanthaya would have to answer him instead.


He quickly dialed her number, setting his phone to show up as Johan Hawk, and not "private caller" as it usually did. He glanced at his watch... he was going to be late... by a few minutes... at least that is if Rals showed up five minutes after he placed that text.... which she couldn't... so maybe they would at least arrive at the same time.


Come on pick up! I know you need to talk with me.... And you know it too... He paced back and forth near the front door, keeping out of sight of the windows. While waiting he stuck himself with the syringe and extracted 50cc of his blood. A very potent dose considering he only gave Marcy 5cc, but she hadn't been thirsty for blood... and he hadn't wanted to make her his servant, Kanthaya on the other hand he had planned on doing so... just... not yet.




** as soon as she answers his first words are going to be "Hi Kanthaya, I'm about to go out of town but I was checking to see if you had discovered..." at that point I'm guessing Johan will be interrupted by whatever she immediately says.

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Graham shot Joran a lopsided smile. He was debating on whether to turn down the blood or not. He was going to kill him after all, but he didn't want to have Joran's blood on his hands quite yet, even if it was freely given. And putting blood on his face? No thanks. Graham, we'll kill him yet, you'll see. Just wait. See, Xander's coming. If you had killed him then we'd have been dead. We'll have to kill him discreetly when no one expects it, we absolutely have to make sure we have a solid alibi, and we have to do it quietly enough no one would ever suspect us. So play the part, Ridell. Go on, play the part. So he took the slightest amount of the blood and placed it over the cuts, wincing as his fingers lightly went over the gashes. They seemed to form over and start to heal rather curiously. What the hell did he do now? Graham, get a hold of yourself. Usually you're much stronger than this. I usually only have to come about when you're a wolf, but now you're dragging me into your childish feuds again. Simpering fool, buck up and act like a man.


"Thanks, Joran," he said, grinning and turning towards Xander. For a brief moment his eyes flashed with hatred and anger towards the Vampyre, before regaining their composure once more. "Hello Xander," Ridell said coolly, his voice a cold, slithering hiss. Perhaps he couldn't be open about his hatred of Joran, but with Xander he would show it. Xander was rude to have intercepted Graham's hunt, not just the first time, but the second. Now Graham was hunting Joran's friendship, and Xander just had to but in and add in his ten cents too. If he could, Graham would take those ten cents and shove them down the other man's throat. He's not your target Graham, remember? Never stray from the hunt. 'Don't think to hunt two hares with one dog,' a wise man once said, Graham. You are justly that dog, and they are your hares. Do not stray from your original target, and do not go after both, for surely you'd have to split yourself in half and then you'd be useless. Not that you've had much of a use as of late anyway...


"I should be going. I need to study for my anatomy class," he mumbled walking away from them. Oh, brilliant, Graham. That spark of irritation in your voice... To them you probably seemed irritated for no reason. At least you didn't tell me to shut up. Then you'd really look like a fool and an idiot. Or rather, you'd be showing your true colors. Graham ground his teeth at the biting remarks, rolling his eyes and huffing. Oh dear, he was really insane now, wasn't he? That stupid voice from long ago was back with a new vengeance, it's owner long buried in the soil but still talking in the Ridell boy's mind. Graham missed the owner terribly, but didn't miss the voice talking in his head. It was as if his uncle was right there with a bottle of vodka or a glass of scotch in hand, staring at him lopsidedly, holding his fists for another match of boxing in which he would beat Graham, just as he always had. Being hist with a bottle or glass of alcohol though did probably hurt more than being hit with fists, in Graham's defense. Just this once, though, he wished his uncle would stay dead and not talk, not whisper, not even make his presence known in his mind.

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“Kanthaya? Are you okay?”

Kanthaya breathed a quick sigh of relief when Marcy did in fact answer her cellphone. Good, so Johan didn't do something awful to her. Kanthaya normally would have been at a loss for words at this point, but she found that even her mind was sharper than normal. "Marcy? Hi Marcy, I'm fine at the moment. Sorry to scare you by calling you, but I got worried last night when you and Johan just disappeared... I wanted to make sure you made it home, and--"


Beep, beep.


Kanthaya moved her hand down in front of her face so she could see her cellphone and was surprised to see that Johan Hawk was calling. Johan! Maybe he knows what's going on! Kanthaya so badly wanted to tell Marcy, but now that she knew Marcy was alive she had less to worry about; this stuff hadn't killed her friend, and she certainly didn't want her friend to get addicted. She moved the cellphone back to her ear; the entire thing took only half a second, as she was now able to read the small words on her cellphone before she had even stopped moving it. "Marcy, I'll call you back, someone important is calling, I just wanted to make sure you're alright anyway. Sorry if I woke you!" Silently apologizing to Marcy, Kanthaya clicked two buttons on her phone which switched who she was talking to and hung up on the first person. Immediately she heard Johan's voice answer.


"Hi Kanthaya, I'm about to go out of town but I was checking to see if you had discovered..."

"Johan Hawk? Hey, um... you never told me it would affect me if it touched my skin!" And all of a sudden she was mad, very mad. "Oh, or is it just that it hasn't ever affected white people, is that it? Is that gonna be your stupid excuse, some sort of stupid racist drug? You knew it would affect me through skin contact didn't you?! Nevermind but you better have some sort of antidote or something, because I sure as the living daylights didn't drink any and yet I'm gettin' all of the crazeh affects that happened to Marcy and more! If you don't have an explanation I might just come over to wherevuh you live and empty your entire fridge!" It didn't sound like much of a threat, but at the moment to Kanthaya it meant more than it should have; her arms were beginning to shake slightly in hunger and agitation. Kanthaya wasn't the kind of person to threaten someone's life, anyway.






Joran smiled as Graham took a bit of the blood and put it on his face; already the slashes seemed to be receding. Ha! Yup yup, that's two thousand years of pure family blood you got on you face! Well, besides my mother I guess... but pure enough! He was quite glad Graham had accepted the offer, because otherwise he would have felt rather dumb standing there with his arm scratched and bleeding for no reason. He was surprised when he noticed that a bit of the blood on Graham's face had a sparkle or two in it, but he forced himself not to laugh or make a comment.


"Thanks, Joran." Graham tried a sort of grin, which Joran thought looked strange on Graham's face; he wasn't used to seeing the other guy grin. But it certainly didn't look bad on Graham's face, and Joran felt just the slightest pang of jealously for a moment. Then in unison they both turned towards Xander's approach, and Joran's smile faded. Oh, is the fight done already? What was it, rock-paper-scissors? That'd actually be pretty cool...


“I’m sorry Joran…my head isn’t clear. The information that you gave us has been very disturbing.” Joran shrugged, glancing off to the side. It was meant to have a certain effect, but the fact that Joran was Icelandic meant he was probably giving a different message than Xander was receiving, and then Graham spoke up and rendered the effect obsolete. "Hello Xander." Joran looked at Graham in surprise; apparently something had gone on that he had missed, because Graham did NOT sound happy to see Xander. There was a small moment of silence as Graham looked at Xander. "Well!" Joran said, smiling between the two and turning to Xander, "I suppose you and Rals sorted everything out?"


"I should be going. I need to study for my anatomy class," Graham said suddenly as he turned to walk away. Joran frowned. Oh yeah, he's probably still a bit ticked-off about the whole Rals thing. Jeeze, how was I supposed to know that they were both werewolves? I only--wait, did he say anatomy class? Th-that's gotta be a coincidence. "Bye Graham!" Joran waved a sparkly arm after him, then turned back to Xander. He had a few questions of his own now. "Say," he began, "I heard you mention Steel's age earlier; five-hundred. How did you know how old he was?" Joran couldn't remember if he had told Xander or not. Maybe he had, but Xander had seemed awfully confident when presenting the information earlier, more confident than Joran thought he would be... as though he personally knew Steel or something. Maybe HE'S the one who's brainwashed by Steel. Huh, I better keep an eye on him.






"Technology... how interesting. It changes as quickly as the people who think it up. When a nation reaches its maximum, the 'modernization' of its age, then there's only one direction for it to go; downhill. America has shown this with much clarity. Of course, Russia is holding out nicely. Your nation has had the liberty of a better government. The Nordic lands have never been able to be as 'modern' as the rest of the world, and so while some may say they are behind the times, I'd sooner say they were ahead because they're behind."


"Do you always talk about such boring and repetitive topics, master Steel? I never thought of you as much of a philosopher. Now put it on, and don't complain about the colors."


Steel let a soft, deep laugh gently escape his throat as the woman who stood before him handed him a strap-on device. The woman looked very healthy and alert, yet her eyes looked dead; she was a ghoul, a thrall, a slave; she was addicted to Steel's blood. But yet, she was one of his favorite to bring along because not only did she speak Russian, Icelandic and English, but she also managed to keep her wits about her even in the tensest situations. He had tortured her before just to see how she would react and she had--in all her weakness--almost gone insane. Yet here she was, fully recovered just two months later with no apparent permanent mental damage and perhaps an even stronger mind. Fascinating how that worked.


"Look who's giving the orders now," he hissed softly. "You never were very intelligent, Viqui. That could get you killed some day." Viqui gave Steel a sour smile as she shuffled through her bag of stuff for something else. The insult was all negated by the fact that he actually remembered her name. "Yeah, well, you know you'd be wasting time if you killed me now and I'm still a pretty good resource to you. I know that, you know that, and Jarl Ulran knows that." Steel shrugged as he finished strapping the device to his chest and covered it with the Asian outfit he had been wearing earlier. "Jarl Ulran does not care when or how I get rid of your kind. But for once, you are correct; killing you here would only make your body a burden, for there are other foreign Vampires in the area."


Viqui looked surprised; her dead brown eyes met Steel's equally dead (though in a different way) red ones. "Other Vampires? Not just Vampyres? Wow, everybody's destroying this country. Too bad, the fast-food is great." Steel groaned in annoyance but tolerated Viqui for another minute as she gave him two gloves to wear. "Don't put them on until you have to, master Steel," she said with a smile. "The button's in that one. Remember, once you click it--" "Yes, I know how it works," he hissed. "Now get out of my sight. Your lack of intelligence is bothering me." Viqui laughed; being a thrall meant you were insulted a lot, but it was always fun to annoy your master when you knew he couldn't get back at you. She knew she'd probably get it pretty bad after this mission, but it was all worth the blood; the blood healed everything, made everything clear and amazing... and to her, Steel's blood was the best.


So off the thrall Viqui went to the highway, and off Steel went back towards the college campus.

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Marcy waited for Kanthaya to answer and once she had, the young girls sounded irritable as if she were afraid or worried about something. She stated that she was just checking up on Marcy but Marcy clearly doubted that and when Kanthaya started to hang up,

“Wait Kanthaya, hey!” Marcy was infuriated when Kanthaya hung up because she was more than worried about the girl, she was scared for the girls life because they had agreed that they would never avoid calling each other when they truly needed something and what Kanthaya said wasn’t a need. Not only that, but the girl sounded scared, frightened, and worried. What was going on with her friend and why in the world was she calling her?


Instead of pondering the possibilities of life and fate, she quickly dialed Kanthaya’s number and waited for the girl to pick up as she walked around the house trying to find her bag. When she looked in the room that she was to stay in, she found it there and quickly pulled on her boots. They were comfortable enough and if she had to walk, she would.


Her steps drew her to the front door and as she opened the door and walked forward, her head came skin to wood in a loud smack. She stumbled backwards and then looked at the door as if it were an impertinent being then tried to open it again. “Dangit that hurt!” she cursed then continued to try the door until she went to all of the windows and found them similarly locked.


“Pick up KANTHAYA!” she shouted into the phone hoping upon hope that the girl was okay. Every time she reached her voicemail though, she left a quick, curt message stating that she knew that something was up and wanted Kanthaya to call her back as soon as she could. Before long, her messages would amass to over 20.


Xander glared at Graham as he walked off. Something wasn’t right with that boy for he had a dual personality that was very dangerous. If he had to though, he would take him back to Rollo kicking and screaming and he knew that Rollo would keep control of the boy whether or not he was the son of some famous boxer. Disorder and chaos would not be tolerated.


When Joran asked him if he and Rals figure things out, he shook his head. “No, she is an Alphess and I was wrong to challenge her even if she is a foreign wolf traveling on American soil. Werewolves tend to be very territorial if they are older than I and the Alphas of the American pack are quite old. Beisdes, I have yet to hear you out Joran and my character is not becoming of me at the moment.” Xander chuckled and then looked at Joran with a grin. “Not getting sleep and dealing with a bunch of younglings tends to get to you.” He then became very grave as he leaned against a pile of wood.


“I didn’t know for sure, but it was a guess at least. Our Ancients received a message this morning from an anonymous tipper that there was an assassin on campus looking for someone. I suspected it was you after what you told us last night and for there to be someone after you, wouldn’t he need to be with your father or grandfather or whoever for some time? It was just a wild guess.”


Xander shrugged as he spoke then looked Joran in the eye. “Why did you come here if you knew that you would be used?”

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Johan waited for Kantheya to finish speaking before he continued.


"Yes I understand, you touched it to your skin, spilled it or something, I guessed that you might, but I assumed you would just end up being too curious and take some instead. Because it's merely in contact with your skin, the effects will be slower, but more varied, you're lucky I'm in a car..." Johan hung up, counted to five, and then opened the front door (regardless of whether or not it was locked) and entered. Unfortunately he guessed that Kanthaya wouldn't recognize him in this getup, though it didn't matter much now anyways, there was only one way this was going down and it wasn't going to be pretty.


He shut the door behind him and locked it (assuming it wasn't locked before and he hadn't destroyed said lock by entering). He moved quickly through the house, finding Kanthaya easily by the rapid beating of her heart. He didn't give her a chance to react either, he simply embraced her in a bear hug of steel... and injected the syringe into her neck, causing a bit of her own blood to spout out as well as his blood entered and the syringe dropped out of his hand onto the floor as he held her tightly, crushing her phone on purpose.


She already had the beginnings of fangs and the amount of his blood he had just given her, both because of his age... and her current state of transformation, would cause her to finish the process almost instantly. It would be painful because of the physical changes, and she would be even more hungry because of it. But he had something to ease the pain as well, which he applied instantly... his fangs to her neck.


Over the wound he had just created, he bit down hard, puncturing the skin and beginning a steady flow of her blood into his mouth which he swallowed greedily, but carefully, he didn't want her to pass out, though he doubted she could at her state... she was more likely to frenzy because of the hunger.


A vampire's bite is often thought of as a painful experience, but if it were... victims would be that much harder to enthrall. The truth is that like leaches inject into the victim a blood thinner and nerve deadener that keeps the swimmer from noticing their bite... vampires similarly produce an enzyme that stimulates the pituitary glad int he brain to produce the "feel good" enzyme, similar to a drug. Coupled with the blood he had just injected her with... she was probably close to a mental overload of all her senses and the feeling centers of her brain... she definitely wouldn't feel pain, it was the last on the list of priorities at the moment. She was definitely feeling hunger more intense than ever before. Her brain was certainly going to have a hard time figuring out how she felt, and she was about to get a lot stronger and faster too...



Johan removed his mouth and flung her away from him, hard enough to smash her into the wall, if not partially through it, her body would take the abuse, heal, and she'd feel that much more crazed and hungry because of it...


Oh well... this will add to the authenticity of this costume at least... As she recovered... Johan removed his cat, pulled back his hair, unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt... and used one clawed fingernail to cut the side of his neck right above the artery, allowing himself to bleed, and not heal for a moment. Giving her the sight of blood, the trigger that all newborn vampires would instinctively know meant food.


"Hungry little one? Come... drink..." He beckoned, placing his feet apart to brace himself for the impact and lowering his hands to his sides.


Normally a vampire needed to survive on human blood. The older the vampire the more blood was needed (but not overly much more, simply a deeper more appreciative hunger and need to sustain the older body). Vampires, however, could take one anothers' blood and survive, younger vampires could even increase their power temporarily by drinking the blood of elders. Humans however were far more plentiful, much more tasty... (except in the case of a younger drinking an older's blood in which case it had a drug like effect as well)... and among most all vampire circles... the practice was taboo, strict taboo... but Johan had never cared for superstitious traditions. Everything had its use.


But drinking another vampire's blood as your first drink... THAT was taboo more than anything but perhaps revealing the existence of vampires to the public. Because, when a vampire was transforming for the first time from human to vampire, the body needed sustainment and was highly adaptive, mutating to survive, and would die within a day if no blood was found to nurture it. Whatever blood the vampire first had... its body would adapt to that blood as its food source and would take it in as if it were oxygen, making it vital for survival. That is why each vampire drank human blood as their first drink of blood, so that human blood, much weaker than vampire blood and certainly weaker than ancient vampire blood, became the body's default food source.


But Johan had taken advantage of the cycle in a way he had always wanted to, just to see if what should happen... did. By injecting her with a little, and now offering her a lot... Kanthaya's body should set his blood as the default minimum necessary to sustain her. Giving her a head start in strength and other vampiric attributes because Johan was so old... but also making human blood completely useless to her, and other vampire's blood her only food source, of which she would live best of the blood of vampires comparable to Johan in age.


Johan had heard vampire legends, and he'd researched the biology... but he'd never tried to create one before... a vampire that could only survive off the blood of other vampires, not attracted to human blood, but to the blood of the aged vampire, and the older... the sweeter. He even guessed that it might make his blood less drug-inducing than it had been... since her body would treat it as a default food source... and adapt in the next few moments to its vicious kick!


He closed his eyes and waited for the wonderful feeling of being bitten, of experiencing Kanthaya's hunger... and sharing in it. He hadn't ever done so before... and he would enjoy the pain and pleasure of it, but he wouldn't let her have too much, else she might be dangerous, and he didn't want to be drained when he went to meet Rals.


But this should make Kanthaya easy to thrall... once she got over it. But here he was getting ahead of himself... for a moment... only a moment, Johan would do a rare thing, he would stop thinking, stop planning, and concentrate only on the feeling of her bite, some things... needed to be savored. After all, she would crave his blood from now on, and eventually... his alone, no matter how she felt about it morally.

Edited by Rakashua

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"Yes I understand, you touched it to your skin, spilled it or something, I guessed that you might, but I assumed you would just end up being too curious and take some instead. Because it's merely in contact with your skin, the effects will be slower, but more varied, you're lucky I'm in a car..."


Kanthaya just stared at her phone, unable to believe it and not sure quite what Johan had meant. He certainly didn't sound sympathetic or worried, and that mad Kanthaya even angrier. She thought of dialing Marcy again and telling her everything. She was thinking of it when suddenly her phone beeped; she had a new message, from Marcy. Feeling guilty, she reached down to redial... but suddenly she heard the door open, which surprised her since she had thought it was locked. She spun toward the entrance to the room she was in. There was no door to the room she was in, and if she was to exit and turn right she would see the door out... the door that had just opened. Her heart was beating fast... too fast, and she feared she was going to die. She ran her tongue across her teeth and was unconsciously surprised that her canine teeth seemed longer than normal. She prepared herself to yell at Johan not only for busting into her room but for not seeming sympathetic in the least. However, the man who rounded the corner wasn't Johan.


Before Kanthaya could even open her mouth he had his arms around her. She immediately struggled wildly, but the man was incredibly powerful. Her face was in his chest and she couldn't scream as a sharp pain hit her neck and something entered her bloodstream. To her great fear and shock, it felt immensely good. Everything in her told her that was wrong and she struggled more, but his grip was so tight she could hardly breath. Everything happened fast; she felt something happening in her mouth, in her eyes, under her skin... in her mind. Then his mouth was on her neck and her own mouth was free to scream. Scream she did, and she screamed even louder when she heard her own voice, for it was as terrifying as the situation she was in.


She smelled something suddenly, something that smelled more edible than anything she had eaten all day. She began screaming what she thought were coherent words at the man who was biting her neck, and all of a sudden the entire situation vaguely reminded her of Vampirism. She felt hungry, very hungry, and all of a sudden she felt strong enough to break free! Well, she thought she was, but right as she was trying again she was suddenly flung back away from the man and she smashed into a wall... literally, into it. All this only took a few seconds. Kanthaya was unable to think of anything but food now. Whatever had happened when that man had bit her, it said food. His body said food. His mind was food. Everything was food, but he was the best. Thinking the worst things possible about the man and finding herself free, Kanthaya didn't see any reason not to rip him apart!


She stood and screamed at him once more, but her scream was brought to silence as suddenly she smelled the scent of food once more. She couldn't stop herself; she didn't want to stop, her body and mind both agreed that she shouldn't stop, only the tiny bit of morals she had left at the moment said anything about stopping. "Hungry little one? Come... drink..." He didn't have to finish. She didn't even consciously register the words. Faster than she had ever moved, Kanthaya raced towards him. She wasn't used to the new speed and so she crashed into him, though not hard enough to knock him to the ground. With a wild and unnatural sound she bit him. She had never bit someone before, except perhaps as a baby, but now it was like being a baby all over again. The tiny bit of mentality she had had left had told her to bite him, claw him, rip him to shreds... but the moment her fangs sunk into his neck, she felt no desire to claw him or rip him to shreds. Her only desire was more of whatever she was eating, whatever was coming from his neck.


It filled her mouth and she grabbed his arms in instinct, as though to hold him still. Her breathing was fast and almost made sweat on his neck; her eyes were wide open, staring at nothing at all; her jaw was clenched, just barely not threatening to tear off an entire chunk of his neck; she drank, and drank she did, unable to control the urge as her body finally realized what it was hungry for. There was a light clunk as her broken cellphone fell to the ground. Her arms shook and she managed something between a whimper and a sigh as she filled her body with the warm, powerful liquid. She felt stronger and stronger as she did so, and she began to grip his arms harder and harder. Yes, this was what she needed, and at the moment she had no qualms of drinking the life-force of the man who had just barged into her house. Instincts were her driving force, and food was all that mattered.






Joran was a bit surprised and and a bit pleased when Xander spoke about his meeting with Rals. He was glad it didn't come down to a fight, as he really didn't want to see Rals hurt and really didn't want to see Xander dead... not that he cared much about Xander, except for some greedy part of him that wanted to escape the ever-looming claw of Steel. “Not getting sleep and dealing with a bunch of younglings tends to get to you.” Joran was going to grin, but Xander's look became very serious and so Joran kept his mouth straight.


“I didn’t know for sure, but it was a guess at least. Our Ancients received a message this morning from an anonymous tipper that there was an assassin on campus looking for someone. I suspected it was you after what you told us last night and for there to be someone after you, wouldn’t he need to be with your father or grandfather or whoever for some time? It was just a wild guess.” Joran's mouth opened in surprise. Someone was working against Steel? It didn't make any sense, and for a moment Joran wondered if Steel had become smart enough to change his methods and was somehow trying to double-cross everyone. It made no sense, yet it did.


“Why did you come here if you knew that you would be used?” Xander had met Joran's eyes, but now Joran looked down at his arms as though the sparkles on them were interesting. "Well, if your elders sent you somewhere to get intelligence that could help your country, wouldn't you go?" He frowned, though not in a guilty or ashamed way, and met Xander's eyes again. "The guy's my Grandfather, a Jarl respectively but more like a dictator. I guess he's the only dad I've ever had, since my dad kind of disobeyed the rules and is now being eternally tortured in the dungeons." That was the theory, at least; everyone said he wasn't dead, but nobody knew where he was.


Joran turned his gaze to the sunrise, even though the light bothered his eyes. "Y'know, being used is better than being useless. For nineteen years I lived in a palace in Iceland, with nothing to do and nobody to hang out with. I literally had an entire palace of humans who would do anything for me but hated me, and a bunch of cousins I could boss around who also hated me. No one really wanted to be around me, so I entertained myself. Being used was like being freed in my case." He sighed, finally deciding that he may as well tell the truth. He just hoped that lineage wasn't as important in America as it was in Iceland, or he was about to make himself look like the filth he felt like. "I'm not exactly a legitimate heir; no one wants to hang out with someone whose parents bred unlawfully, someone whose mother was a human and whose father was a traitor, someone who's the result of that 'mistake.' But, I'm my grandfather's only offspring, my Grandmother's dead, my mother's dead, my father's being eternally tortured, and my aunt is less legitimate than I am. So I'm the heir, and I guess my Grandfather thought he'd get rid of me here till I 'grew up.'" But I didn't grow up, and I didn't want to. Here I found people who didn't know who or what I was, people who didn't judge me for that. Humans are way better companions than Vampires, they're way more fun and way more creative.

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Johan felt her hit him like a brick wall... fortunately, for someone like him... brick walls were less of a problem than they were for the average Joe and he wasn't knocked over. Then she bit him, and his eyes rolled back as he closed them, allowing her to grip him tightly as she drank. It felt good, and painful at the same time, which added to the good feeling all the more.


She had only been at it for seconds and he could already feel her strengthen, and himself weaken, if only slightly. Even if he let her drain a lot from him he was sure he could still overpower her. There were very few things that gave one advantage over natural age... very few. He allowed her to drink a tad more, knowing her bloodlust could begin to fade now that she had nourishment. She could start to think again... as long as he removed her current thought obstruction.


Johan brought his arms up to his chest and shoved hard, not as hard as he could, he really didn't want to snap her back or kill her accidentally, but this time she'd hit the wall a bit harder. Her body smacking into it was followed by the sound of his, slamming his arm across her throat and forcing her slightly into the indentation she had made in sheet-rock of the wall.


"Think!" he hissed at her, his long tongue reaching down to his neck and licking his wound as he bent his head towards his shoulder. "Who are you, what are you doing? What are you doing Kanthaya!? And who am I?"


He didn't let up with the pressure against her throat, enough to let her breathe... barely, certainly not enough to let her move.


He slapped her with an open palm, doing no damage really, more to shock her back to reality.


"I am a vampire, Johan Hawk, the vampire. You were transformed by my venom, you drank my blood, you are mine!" He hissed in her face, "Who are you!? What are you!? Say it!" he demanded, his red eyes boring into hers.

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Kanthaya had been silently enjoying her feast, not really thinking of anything coherent, when suddenly her mouth was ripped from its meal and again she hit the wall. This time she could feel the pain and she hissed in anger at the crazy man. Fortunately almost everyone was gone on a Saturday morning, so no one heard the crash or saw the broken wall...


Kanthaya was about to struggle to her feet when a body suddenly slammed into hers and she found she could barely breath. An arm was at her throat, holding her back from eating more. She hissed and clawed at the arm, but found she could barely move. "Think!" The word sounded strangely familiar, as did the voice, but Kanthaya tried to scream defiantly. Only a parched hiss came out as she gasped for air. "Who are you, what are you doing? What are you doing Kanthaya!? And who am I?" Slowly the thoughts began to return to Kanthaya's mind, and the horror of what she did hit her. She hated this man, she hated him with every fiber of her being. She couldn't move, but a tear began to streak down her cheek.


A slap brought back the memories and she realized with more horror that this was Johan. Everything was impossible; it was all a nightmare. This couldn't possibly be real, she couldn't possibly have drank someone's blood with her own fangs and she couldn't possibly want more. Another tear escaped and her look of anger began to fade to fear. "I am a vampire, Johan Hawk, the vampire. You were transformed by my venom, you drank my blood, you are mine!" Kanthaya gasped again as he hissed at her. His hiss was so powerful, so deadly, so commanding. "Who are you!? What are you!? Say it!"


"NOOO!" She had enough air to scream that to his face and struggle some more, trying to brace herself against the wall in such a way that she could kick him off. "Get away from me!" She tried to yell. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real! Vampires didn't exist, and she wasn't one! He wasn't one, he was a demon, a monster, a sorcerer, ANYTHING but a Vampire! She struggled vainly, refusing to believe the truth. All she wanted was to be free and go and cry on her bed, scratch and tear everything that got in her way, and possibly kill this demon that had entered her room. She'd never sell herself to him. Never!

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Marcy looked around the entire house. She walked through several rooms each with their own purpose. One seemed to be that of a workout room but she didn’t pay attention to the weights instead she just ran through to the other side. It was hard to find her way back though as she walked through an office, a massive library, and several bedrooms as well as bathrooms to try and find a way out of the entire house.


Kanthaya was her friend and she was desperate to help her… she had to! If she had to run all day to get to that house she would! While thinking of what to do, she wondered if the house itself would unlock if there were an emergency on the inside of the house. If there were a fire, would it open up to allow admission of the fire department or did it have that entire new fire system? Probably the fire system that she wouldn’t doubt…but windows? She looked at the windows and an idea came to her. With Johan’s house as well as a car in the garage….it would take her exactly, three minutes to get to Kanthaya’s house and if she avoided all lights and cops, maybe two. It was nice that the Richies and the campus were so close and she was desperately glad for that at this moment. Luckily for her, she hadn’t heard Kanthaya’s phone state that it was disconnected, but when she placed her ear to the phone again, her heart skipped a beat.


“No!” she shouted at the phone and then started to call and text Johan as she made herself sit for a moment and then hung up the phone. Johan was the only person that she trusted to help Kanthaya and if she explained to him the dark situation, he would surely turn around and help wouldn’t he? No, he wouldn’t but then again he might, she had to try and try she did as she called and texted him again asking him why he wasn’t picking up his phone and where he was.


At least a few minutes had passed since Kanthaya’s phone had quit on her and Marcy had to clear her head. When she looked at one of the window’s, Marcy jumped up and threw the chair that she was sitting in into the window. With a happy smile, she broke the rest of the glass and climbed out of the window onto the brick walls. With some careful placement, she was soon on the ground and admitted into the garage by the ring that she wore on her finger. It was a lovely ring and she admired it for a moment as she looked at the vehicles that Johan possessed. They weren’t like normal Richie cars, but they were nice.


Another few precious minutes passed before she was able to match a pair of keys with a car and even then, it was hard for her to get behind the wheel.

“Oh God…oh God oh God oh God….” She said as her hands started to shake. The last time she had driven was that night so long ago when she had been raped. It was a horrid memory, but she had to get over that…she had to help Kanthaya because Johan wasn’t using his phone and he wasn’t answering. “Turn on the car…check…now, strap in, press the gas after turning it to drive.” A pent up breath left her and she quickly pulled out of the driveway. Her drivetime was miscalculated because of her fear of driving, but she would at least make it soon enough to keep any man or woman from harming her one friend in life.


“Please let her be okay.” She prayed, but to whom, she did not know. “Please!” It was then that she realized how much she really favored Kanthaya’s friendship and kindness towards her.


Xander listened to Joran and realized that he was younger than he had suspected. When Xander had been bitten, he was a young boy which caused him to look slightly older than the other Vampyres that were his own age, but that slight elder look had caused him to have some sort of odd respect amongst his own kind which he had abused back there. He didn’t understand why though, Joran would want to be used and abused until the boy seemed to let out parts of his history.


He was a censorkip.gif***ized son who was part human and part Vampire…well fully Vampire but more human like Xander was. This boy had the world on his shoulders like Xander never did and he could respect that. He was young and afraid of dying but young nonetheless and he could live if he so chose.


“Joran, you seem to have everything in the world against you.” Xander’s smile was warm and friendly towards Joran not at all like the hatred that the boy was sure to expect. “Don’t think that I hate you because you are an illegitimate son of a Vampire…I was a created Vampyre so there isn’t any hatred coming from me…or from any others that live here. There are hardly any of us save for those that are the leading sons and daughters of our Ancients, that are completely pure.”


Xander had to think for a moment as he wondered on how to question Joran in a way that wouldn’t frighten him or turn him away. “Joran, do you want to live beyond your twentieth year?”


Edited by LoveLost

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Johan's eyes narrowed as he ignored her struggles. He forced her against the wall further, cutting off her air for a moment before allowing her to breathe again.


"This isn't a game," he hissed, "it won't go away because you want it to, this is real, I am real, you are really a vampire now... and I own you. You are mine, my territory, my vampress." He slackened his pressure more, allowing her to breathe normally if she wished, but still not go anywhere.


There was a beep on his phone then several and he removed it from his pocket to view. Marcy was calling and texting, but he didn't reply. He was more concerned with the last beep, the one that told him his tracking ring had left the house, and of course there was only one place Marcy could be going... here... How unfortunate, and how fortunate at the same time. This was a hiccup in the plan, but like all things, Johan found a way to work it to his advantage. Marcy believed he was out of the house, on his way to some anime thing, and that meant he couldn't bring Kanthaya home... but now Marcy was out of the house, which meant all things were equal once again.


"I am not unkind, I am not evil, you will be well treated and I will educate you on your new life as a vampire. But I still own you, and you will do whatever I tell you, when I tell you to do it. Don't worry... I'll give you lots of time to think about it. But in the end you will do what I say because if you don't, I'll do the worst thing you can't yet imagine. I'll starve you, until you revert back to an animal state where all you want is blood and you don't care how you get it. Then... I'll bring Marcy to see you, and let you watch yourself kill her from inside your mind while your body is still controlled by the hunger. You'll kill your own friend and eat her too, now can you imagine anything more horrible than that fate?"


Johan paused, staring her in the eyes for a moment. "That would be purely evil of me, and I would hate to do it. But I will, if I have to, believe me, I will." Johan suddenly increased the pressure again. "But I know you need time to think about it... I'll give you that time.. while your neck heals..." And with that said, he moved his arm and replaced it with both hands on either side of her neck, he quickly turned until he heard a definite snap. Her neck was broken, the bones at least, and the spinal chord was disrupted for the time being. Fortunately because she was in an indentation of herself for the most part, he could keep the head stable and the spinal chord intact though virtually useless. Even if he had broken it... he believed she would heal with the amount of blood in her from his body, still... an injury like that could take days, and he didn't have days. The bone would mend in hours, and hours... he had to spare.


The best part was that she was still conscious, she could still see and hear, just not move, or really make any sort of noise, or feel anything below her neck. He let her body sink into his as he carefully supported her neck and turned to leave the building. He exited through the back, heading straight into the woods, running as fast as he could safely carry her, back to his own house. By this time Marcy had left the garage with one of his cars, and would probably be arriving at Kanthaya's place any second... if she hadn't already. He entered the house, noting the draft with a frown. oh well... he had expected her to get out somehow... he just figured she would unlock the door... instead of breaking the window.


"Welcome to my home, your new home. Where Marcy is staying too actually." He headed inside and into the basement. He crossed through the weight room, and then down another flight of stairs into the dungeon. He called it that because that's what he had called the room below the basement as a child. It wasn't like a castle dungeon, instead of prison rooms it had shelves of canned fruit and dried fruit stacked neatly and organized. And at the far end it had a vault door in which Johan kept spent exactly three hours a day, his meditation room.


The room was furnished with black tapestries, a black rug, a black sofa with plushy cushions on which he set Kanthaya down. The ceiling was painted with stars that glowed slightly in the darkness of the room.


"Welcome to your new bedroom. I'll come back for you when your neck heals, don't try to move it suddenly, you may re-injure it. And don't try to get out, it's sound proofed, underground, and no one knows to look for you. Get some rest, think about your life, I'll be back soon."


Johan left the vault, slid the heavy door back into place with ease, and proceeded quickly out of the house, locking the door behind him. He jogged at a normal pace down to the campus road and hailed a RTSA (Richie Transportation Service Assistant) (also a fancy way of saying a nice taxi). And was soon on his way to pizza hut, no questions asked. As soon as he got in he fired off a text to Marcy:



Who have we were!?

Marcy Livingstone... a girl... are you Johan's girlfriend?

Want to guess who I am?


I won't make you, I'm Johan's best friend, Edward, I pick pocketed his phone, so don't tell him kay?


So... you sound like you need him really bad... what will you give me to tell him you are trying to get ahold of him?


Signed: Eddy Kullin

Edited by Rakashua

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“Joran, you seem to have everything in the world against you.” Joran was prepared to make a sarcastic reply, but Xander's smile caught him off-guard. Xander seemed to do that a lot (surprise him, that is), and it confused Joran. He wasn't sure whether Xander was belittling him now or not, so he was silent. “Don’t think that I hate you because you are an illegitimate son of a Vampire… I was a created Vampyre so there isn’t any hatred coming from me… or from any others that live here. There are hardly any of us save for those that are the leading sons and daughters of our Ancients, that are completely pure.”


Joran looked at Xander with puzzlement. It seemed that Vampyres didn't have as many children as Vampires, or at least not Nordic ones. In Russia and the Nordic lands it was a shame to turn a person into a Vampire unless they were exceptionally intelligent or heroic. Even then, their lives were controlled for them until they were old enough to be powerful enough to break free of the control of other Vampires. It was complicated and something that not many Vampires did, and actually turning a female into a Vampire was forbidden.


“Joran, do you want to live beyond your twentieth year?” Joran's look of puzzlement turned to surprise, and a small flash of fear escaped his eyes before he hid it with a frown. "I guess so. If you're asking if I want Steel to find me or not, I do want to live and don't want him to find me. If you're asking about--" Joran stopped. Asking about what? What was he going to tell Xander, that he didn't want to live? Perhaps that had been the case before, but even if it was so he couldn't bring himself to die. No, he did want to live--Rals had done so much for him, saving his life and returning his sanity (for the most part). He was certain he wanted to live. So, he changed his sentence. "Yeah, I do want to live," he finished. He was curious about Xander now; he had thought of Xander as the type who had been born a Vampyre not become one. He kept a cautious eye on the Vampyre, though, for he wasn't sure what Xander meant by the question...






"This isn't a game, it won't go away because you want it to, this is real, I am real, you are really a vampire now... and I own you. You are mine, my territory, my vampress." Kanthaya took a deep breath as Johan released the pressure on her neck. She said some awful things to him, things she had told herself she'd never say to anyone and especially not a Richie, but she no longer regarded him as a Richie; he was a monster, some sort of possessed being come to haunt her. Why? Why me? Another tear managed its way down her cheek as she pointlessly struggled. A vampress. It sounded awful, but for a moment she saw the spot on his neck again and was tempted... tempted to throw up! Or so she tried to tell herself.


He began speaking again, calling himself "not unkind" and "not evil" but the words were like coal in his mouth and Kanthaya almost got up enough guts to spit on him. He was acting like he owned her, like he could control her! She was panicking now but was equally enraged and her mind reeled with all of the new experiences.


"...But in the end you will do what I say because if you don't, I'll do the worst thing you can't yet imagine. I'll starve you, until you revert back to an animal state where all you want is blood and you don't care how you get it. Then... I'll bring Marcy to see you, and let you watch yourself kill her from inside your mind while your body is still controlled by the hunger. You'll kill your own friend and eat her too, now can you imagine anything more horrible than that fate?"


She was silent for a moment, glaring at him. You monster. You horrible, rotten, no good monster! You're a moron! How can you say you're not evil, you rotten stinking liar?!


"That would be purely evil of me, and I would hate to do it. But I will, if I have to, believe me, I will. But I know you need time to think about it... I'll give you that time.. while your neck heals..." Pressure increased and before she knew it, there was a snapping sound. A tingling sensation of pain hit her and she again panicked... but this time, she couldn't move. She couldn't even feel her body. Everything she knew about the body and medicine told her he had just broken her neck. She couldn't move, couldn't respond, could do nothing but stare and blink. She could barely breathe and certainly couldn't make any noise. Now he was carrying her, she was fairly certain of that although she couldn't feel herself. Her mind was almost empty with shock. I should be dead. I want to die! Why is this happening to me?!


She knew it was real now; dreams didn't last so long and weren't so vivid, and the dreamer could always wake. But she wasn't waking, and Johan was still there. In no time they arrived at some sort of house, and Kanthaya felt another tear make it down her cheek. "Welcome to my home, your new home. Where Marcy is staying too actually." Kanthaya's eyes widened. Marcy's here? He's keeping her prisoner too?! Did he... oh no, what have I done? I let him turn her into a--


She didn't allow herself to finish the thought, but she really wished she could cry. He did that to her... she's been stuck here all this time! Why didn't I sense it?! Why did I trust him, and why didn't I tell her what he had given me?! They went down many stairs into an area that was rather cool. They entered a room that was full of black, and Kanthaya suddenly remembered her comments about the racist medicine. Yeah, right. But why didn't Marcy tell me that night? Why would she hide that from me? The answer was obvious; Johan had told Marcy the same thing he had now told Kanthaya, that if she told ANYONE he would feed her best friend to her. The thought made Kanthaya want to die, because the last thing she wanted was to do what he told her to.


"Welcome to your new bedroom. I'll come back for you when your neck heals, don't try to move it suddenly, you may re-injure it. And don't try to get out, it's sound proofed, underground, and no one knows to look for you. Get some rest, think about your life, I'll be back soon." Then the vault door slid in place, and there was silence. Silence, and little stars painted on the ceiling. Kanthaya lay there, eyes open and staring at the ceiling, a tear occasionally escaping. She did think about her life... a lot.

Edited by LadyNatasha

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Marcy finally arrived at the front door that lead to the hallways to the rest of the dorm. It didn’t take her long to turn the corners that led to Kanthaya’s room but outside of her door a few feet away, there was a large hole in the wall and blood everywhere which immediately caused Marcy to think the worst until she took a breath and thought about everything that had been going on. The ball, the medicine. Marcy had had enough strength to be able to do something like this with the dose that she had had. Johan had given Kanthaya her own amount to experiment on it and it must have gotten onto her skin or into her mouth.


Marcy cleared her mind and forced herself to think instead of panic like her old nature was prone to do. It took a few moments for her to figure that Kanthaya was probably out running and would be safe in the forest for a while. The only thing that made her unsure of what was going on, was the appearance of her phone.


Before any police were able to arrive though, she made her way back to the car and drove slowly back to the place that she was to call home for a while now. It looked homey enough and the garden was nice as long as she wasn’t forced to stay there without being able to check in on her own garden. The car was pared perfectly in the garage before she locked it and then stopped to realize what an idiot she had been. Breaking the window? He told her that the door could be unlocked by the ring. In her haste she had forgotten the one thing that would have made all of his faster.

“Kanthaya, I hope you are okay.” She said aloud to herself as she moved towards the piano where Johan had designated it was. The speakers were rather large though and planted throughout the house at least it sounded that way. It was probably some sort of surround sound system that he had. At least she knew how to entertain herself when there was supposedly nothing to do.

Her thoughts though as well as the smell of Johan in the house distracted her as though he were really there. For a moment, it almost felt as if he was, but she ignored that feeling and decided to play the piano for a moment before she walked down to go and do something productive with her new body.


The music that she played was soothing and before she knew it, she sang along with the words. It was a very old song that had been sung over and over again throughout the years. Dream a Little Dream of Me. It was very sweet to her and luckily, her voice, which was better than her playing, flowed with the notes and echoed around the house. The acoustics were very nice and she found herself losing her worries in her music and glad that she was finally able to relax. Johan would find her since he had been able to find Marcy when she had disappeared.


She stopped for a moment and wondered how Johan had been able to find her. After a few tries of trying to finish the song, she stopped and started to think and couldn’t stop. How HAD Johan found her?


Her room was on the same level as he kitchen and she quickly changed into her sweat pants and a shirt that she didn’t mind getting sweaty. Her shoes were also changed to a pair of tennis shoes. When she arrived down stairs into the workout room, she realized that the weights on the weight machines were far over what she thought any human would be able to do.


Things weren’t adding up and she was tired of it…absolutely tired of it. So to take out her frustrations, she went over to a treadmill and started to jog while various old artists played from the surround sound system that was in the room or the building…she couldn’t tell and quite frankly didn’t care…she had to think.


Xander smiled again at Joran and then allowed his fangs to grow out a little bit more since he never had them fully distended. Now that they were, they hung over his bottom lip enough to be easily seen from far away. “Would you like to learn how to defend yourself? To be able to not feel as though you were lost in the world and as though you have a meaning? Trust me Joran. I felt as though I was being used and I was being mistreated by the man that I call my father but in all honesty, he had my good in mind…these men do not. You must learn to be yourself and defend yourself instead of relying on others to decide that for you.”


He retracted his fangs slightly for Vampyres did not have the ease of which Vampires did to consistently grow out their fangs. “If you want to live Joran, then fight back instead of always seeing things as something that cannot be won…there is always a way if you have but the will to continue on.” Xander said and wondered if Joran even knew how to fight. “Do you even know how to fight? To ignore a wound to let it heal in the speedy time that we have? Do you know how to watch a Vampyre move in their swift nature and predict their movments?”


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Joran couldn't help but kind of stare at Xander as the elder allowed his fangs to grow out. “Would you like to learn how to defend yourself? To be able to not feel as though you were lost in the world and as though you have a meaning? Trust me Joran. I felt as though I was being used and I was being mistreated by the man that I call my father but in all honesty, he had my good in mind… these men do not. You must learn to be yourself and defend yourself instead of relying on others to decide that for you.” Ouch, that burns.


Joran put his hands in his pocket and glanced at the arm he had scratched, frowning in thought. He seemed to be trying to determine something about Xander, and he almost missed the actual question Xander had asked. “If you want to live Joran, then fight back instead of always seeing things as something that cannot be won… there is always a way if you have but the will to continue on.” Joran realized that Xander was right; that was exactly how Joran had been viewing the situation, because it seemed so true. It couldn't be won, so long as Steel was alive... so long as Ulran was alive. There was no way around it; Iceland and Russia would make an alliance, blame America for something awful, declare war, and begin fighting while the government of America would vote to make the wrong moves because of the Russian spies that were part of that government. America would be defeated and become part of Russia, all surviving Vampyres OR Vampires in America would be killed, and the population would be culled so only the healthiest and most interesting humans survived. The situation was so impossibly hopeless that Joran hadn't even told Xander that those Russian spies were slowly working to make the entire American government addicted to their blood; the government would become thrall. Only the CIA was slowing down their work, and even that agency had crumbled since Richies now ran it.


“Do you even know how to fight? To ignore a wound to let it heal in the speedy time that we have? Do you know how to watch a Vampyre move in their swift nature and predict their movements?” These questions brought Joran back to the present and surprised him. He was silent for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, I guess I've been taught to fight," he said, trying to keep his pride from being injured, "but I've never had to use those skills so... I'm a bit rusty. As for ignoring wounds, I'm pretty good at that; in Iceland you have to ignore them. As for predicting a Vamp..." yes, that was his weakness. He had been taught to fight but never to fight an elder or someone stronger than him. In Iceland only the most talented were 'privileged' enough to spar an elder (meaning someone at least two decades older than them), and Joran wasn't one of the most talented.


"Guess I'm not very good at that. But I'm pretty good at shooting," he picked up his small silver pistol from the ground and stuck it in his pocket. Then finally he sighed in defeat; yeah, I need training. "Graham said he'd teach me some stuff he knew, but if you had some spare time I guess I wouldn't mind learning while we wait for Rals to get done meeting with whoever that weirdo who wanted me was...--" he wondered if Xander knew about that "--and... I could tell you a bit more about what's going on in your government..." Joran's voice became quieter as he continued speaking, for the situation wasn't exactly a normal one and he was rather surprised at Xander's interest in his life. He still felt like a traitor, and still to both his American friends and his Vampire family. Xander was a rather confusing subject; he seemed to care what happened to Joran, but he had no real reason to care unless he wanted more information. Not for the first time, Joran wondered if the elder would eliminate him once he had all the information he needed. Joran didn't know much more than he had told Xander, but what he did know would make the situation look worse than ever, and his participation in it wouldn't help.


Maybe I'll leave out the part about my participation. After all, it couldn't hurt anyone not to know... anyone could have done it...

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Xander watched Joran’s reactions like Montague and Aloysius had been teaching him to do for some time and for a moment, he read that in a way, the boy had been seeing life as hopeless. For what reason, he would understand at some time or another, but for now, Joran was speaking about how he had been taught to fight, but was rather rusty. But, when Joran spoke about how Graham was going to be teaching Joran a thing or two, Xander frowned darkly but allowed himself to nod fervently to what Joran proposed they do while waiting for Rals.


“ I would be careful around Graham though…he is a very strange one that even the Alpha is wary of because Graham acts more like a rogue with no sense of self-control. But all the more to be able to teach you how to fight amongst your own kind eh?” He smiled again and allowed himself a deep breath of the air around him. He could smell hundreds of insects, birds and various other animals but what surprised him, was the smell of dogs until he realized that he had just been with werewolves.


“It seems that it would be wise to begin your training…and consider yourself lucky. My trainers well….they could drive a person mad.” He hadn’t been driven mad, but the consistent harsh behavior that came from both Montague and Aloysius while preparing Xander for the real world had made him more than he ever thought he could have been.


“Stand tall at first when facing an enemy. If they are old and have challenged you, then they will realize the old ways of the pack. If they are young then immediately take your fighting stance for they will never respect the ways of the old ones.”


Xander stood tall and if Joran would think but a moment, he would realize that it was a humane way of sizing one another up to try and predict what they would do in their attack.


“What you are looking for Joran, with your God-given senses, is a sudden twitch of muscle, a turn of the joint, a skipped beat of the heart. Even the slightest flicker of the eye can give you a hint as to which way a Vampyre or Vampire can move. Some learn these techniques young, and some it takes years. Those that learn it quickly and learn not only from others but from themselves will survive. Now watch. If you predict where I am going to go, then you will run into me as long as you use your speed.”


Xander moved his right leg in a way that would be imperceptible to any human, but to a Vampyre would be clearly noticed. If Joran saw that, then he would be on his way. In a moment he was off to a distance and prayed that Joran intercepted him…strangely enough, he wanted the boy to succeed.


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Rals Jackson


“I haven’t had Pizza in ages!” Wynter said happily and then decided to change into her human form. When she jumped back over the boxes, she was in a pair of skinny jeans and a cute shirt that one of the other female wolves had found some time ago. Over her cream colored shirt, she wore a fringe leather jacket as well as her stone necklace that was always on her whether or not she was in her wolf form, werewolf or human form. “Ready!” she said with excitement. Rals smiled at the young werewolf. She too wanted pizza, even if it meant dealing with some weirdo.

Her father, Jaylan, nodded at Rals. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He too jumped behind where his daughter had gone and shifted into his human form. It took longer for him to get changed into an outfit, probably because he was being picky about what clothes he wanted to wear. He jumped over the boxes and landed beside Rals. “Ready when you are.”

"Let's go then." she said, and started to walk towards the town. It wouldn't take very long to get to the specified Pizza Hut, and then all they had to do was wait for someone wearing a red hat to enter. She wasn't sure why anyone would do that, but it wasn't her choice to pick what outfit 'Mr. Hellsing' would wear.


Ten minutes later she, Wynter, and Jaylan sat around a small table, having ordered a large cheese pizza. Rals hated her pizza with any sort of toppings, so really cheese was the only choice. Finally, their order was called, and Rals picked up the pizza and headed back to the table. Opening the box, Rals took a long, warm slice of greasy goodness and took a bite. It was hot, but the cheese melted on her tongue, and she tasted the familiar taste of Pizza Hut pizza, which only they could make. As she finished the first slice and started to take another, Rals kept looking out for a figure wearing a red hat. He better not be late... For all the threats he kept making about being on time.

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Jaylan + Wynter Emerson


Jaylan stepped out in front of Rals even though she was the Alphess. There was no way that he was going to let anyone try and attack her. Luckily for her, he was older than she was and even though she was larger in her wolf form than he, he was stronger due to his time put into developing himself. It was his pride and joy to be as strong as he could be to make sure that those he loved were protected and safe. Just recently, he had been able to tear a tree that was as wide as his arm span in two from it’s largest point. His claws were always sharp and jaws always strong to make sure that no harm befell her.


As they walked along, he sniffed the air to make sure that all was well and even cast a short glance behind them to see Wynter walking alongside Rals in a carefree way. She was sweet, his daughter, but sometimes he wondered why she hadn’t grown up all the way yet. She was already 35 years old but acted like a young pup. But then again, she hadn’t had to go through what he had as well as what Rals had…he would never wish that on anyone.

Wynter noticed her father’s glance and smiled widely at him as she skipped over a crack in the sidewalk. The world was beautiful if you were a werewolf for your eyes could see the finer things in life, your nose could smell the sweetest things, and your hands could feel every texture in the world. It allowed her kind to survive and it always pleased her to take in everything so that she could store it and learn what it was that she was touching or that she was smelling.


When he turned back around, Wynter took to looking at the forests and mountains that surrounded the town even though they were away from main street. The stores that most people used were away from the residential area, but she always loved all of the old stores that were kept up according to old restoration laws to keep the heart of the town alive and build around the mountains since mankind was no longer allowed to tear down mountains.


Because of the nature activists in the town, Canon City was one of the prettiest towns in the state especially since most of the trees had been replaced since each of the fires that had happened due to plants exploding or being destroyed.


It didn’t take long for them to reach the Pizza Hut but Wynter could smell it long before they got there. The smell caused her mouth to water and as soon as they entered the building, Wynter’s face broke out into a wide smile while her father frowned as he looked around the room for a spot where they wouldn’t have to be looking around everywhere.


Once Rals had ordered the pizza that she wanted, Wynter ordered an extra one just in case their meeting partner was hungry as well. If he wasn’t, well, she would eat his portion as well because she was famished. She knew that Rals hated any toppings on hers but Wynter loved meat on her pizza so she ordered one that was small enough for her to have a few pieces and for her father to have a few as well.


As soon as they sat down and Rals opened up the box, Wynter took a deep sniff and if she had had her tail at that moment, it would have been waving back and forth at lightning speed with how happy she was. After Rals took her first bite, Wynter moved in and took a piece of the cheesey goodness that was the pizza in front of her. The first bite was always the best and the warmest and she hummed in pleasure as she chewed and swallowed. Her father was more reluctant at taking that big of a bite and instead placed a plate in front of himself and placed a piece of the pizza on the plate. With a fork and knife, he cut his piece into bite size pieces and ate them.


Once both his Alphess and daughter had finished their second piece, he too took another piece as he looked around the room to make sure that the man that they were to meet wasn’t there. If he was, well, Jaylan would walk up to him if he had to.


Marcy Jane


Marcy continued to run on the treadmill until, for a moment, she felt as though her skull was being punctured by little needles. She didn’t stop running, but instead, picked up the pace for another minute until a strong headache formed that caused her to not be able to see all that clearly. Her hand came down hard on the stop button for the treadmill several times before it stopped completely. With weak legs from the odd pain, she allowed herself to sit on the side of the treadmill with her phone in her hands.


There was a text message that she noticed came from Johan which she viewed as quickly as her phone could bring it up. Before long, she read the message that Johan had sent as his cousin which she read with frustration. That little idiot was keeping her from getting to Johan to see if he could in any way help Kanthaya. With more reserve than she was used to when she was frustrated, she placed the phone beside her on the treadmill and rubbed her temples to make the headache stop, but it only grew in intensity.


The pain was sharp and prickly at the same time like she had allowed her brain to fall into a pile of cactus. When she looked up she was shocked to see not the workout room, but instead a dark rainy night. It was the night that she lost her two boys but something was off. She didn’t remember anyone other than Sheehan arriving late, but there was Carmandy and some other young man.


Her head started to throb and she grabbed her head with labored breathing and a small groan. She looked up again and saw the same scene again but it was now animated. She was screaming and shouting at Sheehan but Carmandy was intervening for a silent Sheehan. Her voice was sweet instead of the melancholy tones that she heard most of the time but it was also very very sad.


Marcy watched the scene and gasped when, as she saw them walk off, the three people started to run at a speed that no human could top and two of them, Carmandy and the other boy….Max….Maxamillian, transformed into wolves.


By this time, Marcy was pale and shaky as she stood up and grasped her phone in her left hand while using her right hand to guide herself back to the kitchen. Once there, she quickly filled up a glass of water and drank it slowly, using the counter as support. A few minutes more passed as she walked to the kitchen table and sat there wondering what was going on. Did the medicine cause hallucinations? No, it probably didn’t otherwise Johan would have warned her about that, wouldn’t he have? Wait, who cares about Johan and who cares about what he would do for her.


That memory was real…all too real. But why did this occur after meeting Johan and taking that medication and why couldn’t she remember it earlier, like when she was trying to recount what happened to her brother? All she remembered was that Sheehan had arrived late and she was angry at him. She had overreacted and told him that she never wanted to see his worthless face again. He had left that day, and he never came back to the school, or even to check up on her.


Why was she remembering the story differently now? When she tried to envision the memory that she had recounted to her brother, it wasn’t there anymore for it was replaced by the memory that had so vividly played before her eyes.


Look, I just need to talk to him. It’s urgent…just tell him that it is about his medication and that I needed to know if he had any reactions to it other than those we had discussed.






P.S. Like I am his girlfriend...no I am not. And I am not going to do a thing for you...just give him the phone.


Marcy sent the text off over the air then looked at the broken window. With a broom and dustpan she dusted up the glass that she had broken while smiling at her idiocy. For one who professed to be calm and collected, she panicked too quickly when it came to people that she actually cared about.


A piece of glass slit her thumb and a headache started again.


“What in the world?” she asked aloud as she saw an open field of wildflowers.


The valley between the mountains was small, but it was perfect and filled with warm sunlight as she saw herself sitting there at least six months pregnant. There was a cut on her finger from one of the thorns but before she could bandage it, Sheehan appeared by her side out of nowhere and gently bandaged it for her.


“I can smell when you are bleeding you know…but don’t worry Marcy, I won’t hurt you. I’ve been trained to drink nothing else other than what is given by nature.” He sat down beside her and smiled as he saw a young blond haired man playing with a few wolf pups. The scene itself didn’t seem outrageous to Marcy, in fact, it seemed like it was normal.


“Seems like Xander is having a hard time with the werewolf pups. They do tend to get out of hand all the time.” Sheehan chuckled and ran off to help his fellow man and came back with one of the puppies who was snarling in his arms and playing with his necklace.


There was a smile on Marcy’s face as he sat down beside her and the pup calmed down at a word whispered from his lips. With intelligent eyes, the puppy regarded Marcy before crawling into her lap and transforming into a little girl no older than four years old. The little girl placed her hand on Marcy’s stomach and giggled before popping back into her werewolf form and allowing Marcy to scratch the little females ears. The young werewolf then trotted off to join her pack mates in a game of tag with their friend, Xander.


“Ya know Marcy, even the young of us immortals are like you mortals. They are innocent are they not?” His sweet voice rose and fell with the wind and Marcy nodded.

“It’s still hard to believe that Vampyres and Werewolves exist, but the more time that I spend with you, Carmandy and Max, the more I realize how blind we humans are.”

Marcy sat still wondering what in the world was going on with her even as tears slipped down her cheeks at the sweet memory. Why was this memory there when she had no idea…but she did. There were immortals…werewolves, vampyres…vampires. They were real! No, this just had to be an effect from the medicine….


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The car stopped in front of the restaurant and Johan pulled out his phone as it buzzed, Marcy's response. He wavered for a moment, wanting desperately to respond. Wait... perhaps there was a way. He put it back in his pocket, he could use it later, soon, after the meeting.


Johan frowned, stepping out of the car and heading into the restaurant, the loss of blood left him hungry, and if he was hungry he was easily annoyed, tended to end things with violence instead of diplomacy, of course.. those were his younger days. Now hunger was a constant companion, a gnawing pain in his gut. It was harder eve now to ignore it since he wasn't hiding any of his vampiric traits. Long fangs, red eyes, the fact that he wasn't holding back physically made his body all the more desirous not to hold back in other areas... such as grabbing that cute waitress and draining her blood... but he never would, Eve wouldn't forgive him. He'd promised not to eat any humans... for the time he was in Amarica... and that... was proving quite annoying.


He immediately saw Rals and the other two, obviously her associates and by the way the male looked at him, probably her protectors, interesting, that made her important, a beta? alpha? surely not she didn't look old enough, although... he mused I don't look my age either. He turned on his heal and headed their way. He sat down at the table, leaving a chair separating himself on both sides so they didn't feel too threatened.


"Look, I don't have a lot of time. I can give you the hunter after Joran, dead, or alive. Is you want him alive you can convince him to tell the truth, the truth that he is the one that wants Joran dead, not Joran's family, the boy stands in the way of his vast ambitious plan within that family. Doing so would clear Joran's name completely, and assure his safety. This would also protect you from retaliation by Joran's family, one Steel's treacherous ways are revealed, his family won't mind if he dies, they may even pay you to deliver him to them alive. I don't know why you care about the boy, but in this way you lose nothing, I do all the fighting, you just have to interrogate the vampire once I have him." Johan nodded politely to Rals, "You should also know that the dean and his wife, are vampires, ancient ones. I can write you up a list of who else on this campus is not human, which species they belong to, and what their allegiances are if you so desire."


Johan leaned back in the chair and smiled, "and all I want in return, is one bite. I want only a little of your blood, Rals. I want you to give it to me willingly, from your neck. I want you to experience the bite of an ancient vampire, and I want to taste your young blood so that I can always remember you."


He paused and shrugged, "if you don't trust me than I would be satisfied with your wrist, and your bodyguards.... may position their claws at my heart and my throat if you're still concerned that I might harm you. I'm very old, there are few things in this life that I care about. New blood, young, fresh, and from an extraordinary werewolf like yourself... willingly... that is. Now that is worth more than gold. You might even enjoy it."

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