My childhood was different from most others. Before I begin my story, you must understand what it was like growing up the daughter of a vampire slayer. My father loved me very much. My mother had died in childbirth, so we were all each other had. I idolized him from day one. I remember very vividly the day I found out what it was my father did for a living. I was six years old, still very impressionable, and still very much in love with my father, who could do no wrong in my eyes. I was at the home of my childhood friend Reg. His mother was looking after me while my father was gone on a contract, though at the time I had no idea where he was, simply that he was away on business, and would be back soon. Reg and I were playing on the rug in front of the fire when the front door burst open, and I was terrified to see my father covered in bright red blood, soaked to the skin from the pouring rain. He smelled strongly of garlic, and carried a large wooden pointed thing(A stake, as I would later learn) in his left hand.

"Mrs. Green," he said to Reg's mother, "I am here to collect my little girl."

"Mr. Wolden, surely you're not going to take her home in that state!" Mrs. Green offered him a wet cloth, "please, clean yourself first."

"I believe I will, thank you ." He took the rag and began wiping himself off.

"In the back room, if you please, Mr. Wolden," Mrs. Green said politely. My father nodded, and went to the back of the house, out of sight. Reg frowned at me in confusion. I simply shrugged, as stunned as he.

"Mummy," he said, "What's Marisa's daddy do?"

"Hush, Reg, it's not polite to ask those kinds of questions," Mrs. Green hushed her son.

In a few moments my father came out. His body was clean of the blood, but his clothes were still terribly stained. He stretched his hand out and smiled down at me,

"Come Marisa, we're going home." I placed my small hand in his, and waved goodbye to Reg, who waved back.

"Say thank you to Mrs. Green, sweetheart."

"Thank you Mrs. Green," I said quietly.

"There's a good girl."

We walked down the street in awkward silence. Finally I could take it no more. I didn't care whether it was polite or not, I wanted to know what Daddy's job was.

"Papa?"

"Yes?"

"What's your job?" There was a long sigh.

"I think it's best that I explain it to you when you're older, Dearest."

"No. Tell me now. I wanna know. Please?" I pouted, knowing he couldn't say no when I pouted. It nearly always worked. My father stopped walking, and turned, crouching down so that we were at eye level.

"You know what vampires are, don't you?"

"Mrs. Green says they're bad things, and they come and eat you when you're sleeping if you don't lock the windows."

"I suppose that's it, more or less," Father said, "Look sweetheart, your papa has a very important job. I help to save the country from vampires."

"How?"

"That's,er, that's not important now, dearest. You'll have to wait a few years, until you're old enough to understand."

"Why aren't I old enough to understand, Papa?"

"It's very complicated, and I don't want to scare you."

"I don't scare very easy, Papa," I said proudly.

"Of course you don't, my sweet," he hugged me, "you're my little girl. Of course you don't. But it's getting late, and it's past your bedtime." He stood up, took my hand, and continued walking.

"But I'm not tired, Papa," I said, yawning loudly.

"Oh yes you are. I can see it."

"I'm not," I said, stubbornly.

"Even if you're not, tomorrow's another big day, and you need sleep." I frowned, but didn't say anything. I don't remember much more about that night, because I fell asleep. Over the years I would come to understand what my father did, and why he did it. But it wasn't until I was thirteen years old that my instruction in the art of vampire killing would begin.

On my thirteenth birthday, I had a somewhat unorthodox collection of gifts. I received, among other things, a black cloak, a chain with a large cross on it, and another chain, on which hung a small vial of holy water. These gifts excited me. Since I was ten, old enough to truly grasp the importance of vampire killing, Father had been telling me stories of vampires he'd killed and adventures he'd had. Crosses and holy water were weapons to be feared, and receiving them meant that he truly thought I was ready to begin my training. But my most cherished gift, the present that lit up my face, was a leather pack, in which was contained a silver hammer and a large wooden stake. Did this mean that I would soon be able to accompany Papa on a contract? My heart rose in my chest at such a thought. I looked hopefully at his face, glowing with a mix of amusement and loving pride.

"I thought, Marisa, that you might begin to train soon."

"Oh Papa! You mean it?"

"Of course, my dear. You have shown an interest since you were very small. I thought it only right."

"Thank you, Papa! I couldn't ask for a better birthday present!"

"I'm glad you like it, Marisa. But I must tell you something before this goes any further. Before you even begin your training you must first learn the most important lesson of all."

"What's that?"

"Vampire slaying is exciting, yes. It gives you a great rush when a job has been well done, but there is always a more serious side. If you go into a job thinking that it will be a wonderful adventure, and that you will come away unharmed, you will either die or go mad." I frowned in confusion.

"But you never come away unharmed."

"That's not true. Physically, I have never been seriously injured, but I will carry the mental scars of my profession until the day I die. Until you see the face of your victim as they die, the pain they're going through, the agony, the regret they feel, you will never truly understand what I'm speaking of. You have yet to see a dying vampire, but eventually you will, and then you'll see what I mean. I will first train you, then I'll take you along with me on a contract when I feel you're ready, and when you see the thing through from beginning to end, you can make your decision of whether or not you would want to go into this business with me. Vampire slaying is a dangerous business, Marisa. If the creatures themselves don't get you, your fellow slayers will."

"Why other slayers, Papa?"

"This is a very competitive business, sweetheart. Once you get so many contracts, you may become a business threat to other slayers who aren't doing so well. That's another lesson you'll soon pick up: Never trust your colleagues. It's better to work alone, as a matter of fact. I could tell you stories of betrayal amongst co-slayers that would make your hair curl." I shivered.

"Are you sure you still want to do this?" he asked.

"Are you sure you still want to teach me?"

"That's my girl," he said, mussing my hair, "always with a question. You'll make a fine slayer, once I've trained you up a bit." I grinned, happily.

That was how I began my training. It was not easy. Once I began, Father became harder on me, teaching me self-discipline and self-control. I learned how to use all the weapons I had been given and memorized all the ancient anti-hypnosis runes from the yellowed leather book that had been passed down through generations of Woldens until it reached my father. He kept a watchful eye on me, testing me and pushing me until I thought I would go insane. But finally, after three long years of preparation, the day came when I was ready to join my father on a contract.