Prologue

“You monster!” she screams at me, crying over the corpse of her lover.

Her words do not faze me.

Lifting my sword I cut her head off.

Tears still spilling from her severed head 

I reply,

“No, you’re the monster.”

The club music plays loudly as hot bodies rub against each other drunk from the alcohol. Everyone dances crazily to the beat as the chemistry in the club rises. Strangers kiss each other making out in their drunken daze, their minds and reflexes slow. Partying in the dark of the night.

I watch them from above, looking. A handsome man with long dark hair draws a girl towards him with a beckoning finger. She sways toward him entranced by his handsome face. Boldly she sits down on his lap wrapping an arm around him. He smiles bewitchingly, his dark eyes drowning her. He kisses her on her bare shoulder kissing all the way to her neck. The girl shivers in delight. Suddenly his eyes flash red his jaws stretch open and he bites into her neck. The girl stiffens then goes limp. No one notices.

He looks up at me, noticing my presence. His eyes flash red in warning. I cross my arms, smirking, “Amateur.” From all the way up here I know he can hear me.

“You called?” he asks in a voice that would melt any girl’s heart. Staring at the city lights I answer, “I’m here to kill you.” I whirl around slashing at his head. He dodges with the speed of a vampire. Suddenly an arrow pierces him in the heart. Shocked the vampire lets out a gurgle of blood before falling to his knees.

I stoop down, looking him in the eye. “I need your help.” The pain racked across his face cannot hide his surprise. “My help?” he coughs then laughs drily. I nod, “Yes…rather he does.” Before I can finish a dark shadow appears out of nowhere and viciously bites into the vampire’s neck. The handsome vampire screams in pain. “What are you doing to me?” he screams as his face becomes translucent his veins turning black and dry. Before my eyes he shrivels up like an old man.

I stand up, “Satisfied now?” The dark shadow turns into a young man, a pale sickly version of his true self. “No. I need more,” he rasps. I sheath my sword. “I’ll keep my promise if you keep yours.”