A dark secret is held within this world. Creatures of myth and the paranormal roam the Earth. Each with a dark secret of their own. The Vampire race is the prime example. The young ones create havoc for their own pleasures and the older ones subdue any possible threats to their exposure or existence. These are the reasons why the two generations never seem to get along. Of course, not all situations are the same. Sometimes, the two opposing sides may team together in order to destroy something that neither want. That was the case around fourteen years ago. If only they knew that one got away. A threat that could bring their kind to their knees. A threat - which they feared most - will soon come to pass.
She pulled her oversized jacket tighter around her body. Her eyes - gazing out of the window - were cloudy and hazed. Her tongue played along the opening of her busted lower lip. She felt so broken. Like a beaten animal kept in captivity just for being born. She flinched when a hand rested on her shoulder from behind. Nothing more than a question from her classmate behind her. Her voice was cracked and just above a whisper when she spoke. It always was. But at the moment she was still feeling the pain and exhaustion from this morning's events.
Tanya Volkov-Rodriguez was not one of your typical 16-year-old Sophomores. She wasn't exactly popular in her school. In fact, she wasn't much of anything. She always kept her distance from people and tried to not be seen but people still knew who she was. They just didn't know anything about her. Though she was one of the most beautiful girls in her school - or in her town for that matter - she always kept her long hair in front of her face and always wore long, baggy clothes to cover up her beautiful body. She was a five-and-a-half-foot Russian girl with ash-blue eyes and golden-brown hair that reached her waist and complemented well to her porcelain-white skin and curvy shape. She had the type of body a goddess would kill for. Complete with gorgeous long legs, a slim waist, muscular tones, and most of all...bruises covering the majority of her body.
Okay, so maybe a goddess could do without that. Actually, so could Tatyana.
Tatyana was periodically teased for being a total nerd and liking school so much. Her always being the first person in school and the last to leave was the base of their assumptions. Of course, they were just assumptions. The truth was she liked being at school so much because it was the one thing that kept her safe. It kept her away from her not-so-loving family.
She was adopted by the Rodriguez family when she was two years old and her adopted mother died from childbirth three years later. Since then, Tatyana was violently and sexually abused by her adopted father and eldest of her two brothers. She was raised with them telling her that a woman's place is beneath a man. On some form of level, she believed them.
She was always disgusted when she heard the words "I love you". Whether it was on the streets or on the television. She hated those words. Her adopted father would always make her say it when he would force her into his bed. Feeling the pain from her bruises on her inner thighs made her sick to her stomach. It just reminds her of what he did. Tatyana always looked depressed and no one ever asked why. In truth, they didn't really care. They were too busy with their own friends and family to even acknowledge her pain and fear. Especially when she was near a boy - her constant flinching at their movements near her. When the bell would ring to go home she would start trembling and walk slowly because when she would get home, that is when the pain would start.
"Andele, Tanya! Hurry your ass up!" she heard from her agitated eldest brother, Jose Rodriguez. Jose was 19 years old. He was about five-foot-nine with dark brown hair and deep brown eyes. He was more into using Tatyana as a slave than using her sexually, though he did still rape her from time to time. "Where's my damn drink?!" he shouts out across the house. Dishes clang and clack together as she tries to make his drink as fast as she could. She brings him whatever he asks for or she gets beaten. Sometimes, though, he beats her regardless. He just enjoys having power over another's life. It's like a rush. An unfathomable high. She sees it in his eyes when he makes her bleed. "It's about damn time, you slow bitch." That is all he says. She was never appreciated. Never liked. Never wanted. But she never complained. She kept her mouth shut or else she would get it slapped...or worse.
When they first adopted Tatyana, she only spoke Russian. However - living with that family - she was never allowed to speak her native language. She could only speak Spanish or English. Though in that house, she didn't speak at all. Too fearful of saying the wrong thing to do so. She was blamed for everything that went wrong and was never commended for doing anything. She was raped or punished everyday. A worthless life to live.
However, one night became the most important night of her life. Quite literally.
It is about 11:26 p.m. on a Friday night. It was cold out. Mid-winter. "Tanya! Be useful for once and go get some sodas from the store," her father, Pedro, says lazily from the living room couch.
He is the worst one of all. He is about six-foot-one and husky. A clear advantage over her small figure. He always throws her against the walls and feels on her body. He will pull her into his bed whenever he wanted to. Even if it was just before school. Like this morning. And whenever he tells her to do something, she does it. Without hesitation. No matter how dangerous or disgusting it is. That is just how much she fears him. He has broken her arm and ribs before. He has made her bleed - almost to the point of death - and just laughed in her face about it. If she wants to stay alive long enough to get the hell out of that house, she'll do whatever he wants her to do.
The convenient store is about seven blocks away from the house and Tatyana - having to walk the whole ways - has to go through back alleys in order to get there and back the fastest. She has done it hundreds of times before but no matter how many times she has walked the creepy pitch-black path, Tatyana still fears the dark.
On her way back from the store, she passes down the darkest alleyway. Her warm breath was given notice by the cold atmosphere. Her shoes echoing against the night air with each step had an eerie sound as she cautiously kept a steady pace. She would never allow herself to let her guard down in a place like this, paranoia running her senses.
She is a decent fighter but she is still not strong enough to take on Pedro or Jose. She doubts herself when it comes to her own protection. Mostly due to the way she was raised. They polluted her mind with self-denial and chauvinistic crap. She doesn't have much courage for her own good.
She jumps as a cat hisses behind her and runs off - clattering the tin trashcans it stood on. The sudden surprise makes her heart race with nervousness. She starts walking a little faster - fearful thoughts racing through her mind. Her footsteps echo louder until one of her steps is cushioned by a squished sound. She freezes, her heart nearly freezing with her. When she pulls her foot up a sticky substance clutches her shoe, pulling on it some. She looks down to see a dark puddle trailing from the side of the alley and forming beneath her. The very slow and steady flow gradually expanding the size of the puddle. Her eyes follow the trail a short ways and widen upon seeing a man laying on the ground against the brick wall.
He definitely didn't belong in a gloomy, rundown place like this. He is well dressed - though the clothing does look a bit rumpled and torn - in dark slacks and a dark dress shirt. His snowy skin practically glowed in the shallow light of the night sky. It was even paler than hers.
Her breath was catching in her throat, almost choking her. Fearful, she approaches him cautiously. She now knows what the sticky substance on the ground is. The thick copper smell was unmistakable. It was blood. His blood.
Her voice trembled as she spoke. "Sir, are you alright?" she asks, her accent rolling her R's. The only response from him was a soft moan. Soaking the knees of her jeans with the crimson liquid, she kneels down next to him. She gently cups his face, lifting his head to see the source of the blood loss. He has a deep wound across his neck. The sides were jagged. Almost as though it was ripped open, not cut. For someone who is abused quite often, she knows the difference. "Sir, can you open your eyes?" she asks nervously. Again, all she can hear is a shallow moan. Dropping the sodas, she removes her jacket and tears a strip of cloth from the bottom of her shirt, revealing the bruises on her stomach and lower back. She wraps the cloth around the man's neck, tying it to stop the bleeding. "Sir, can you hear me? What's your name?" she asks at an attempt to keep him conscious.
Her many trips to the emergency room and nurse's office taught her well in the manner of first aid.
The mysterious and beautiful man slowly opens his yellowish-brown eyes. His parted lips reveal his long white canines. "Ma...Marius..." is all he manages to say before slipping into unconsciousness. She desperately tries to wake him but fails.
"Senor? Por favor. Open your eyes. Sir!" she shouts as she tries to gently shake him awake. She calls for help in the dark alley but the only response she gets is the back echoes of her own voice. Nobody is around.
At least she thought no one was around.
She hears soft footsteps coming up the alley and looks to see... nothing. She turns back to the man named Marius. "Sir, please wake up." She becomes more frightened by the minutes. Nearly at the brink of tears. "Por favor?" She continues to try and wake him - completely oblivious to the form walking up behind her ever so deathly quiet. "Sir, please! Sir-" She is suddenly pulled away by the dark figure.
"Sorry, my dear. He can't hear you," a sinister voice whispered into her ear. A thick English accent slurred his words. A strong voice, but definitely not friendly. She can hear malice and blood thirst in it, like when her father is angry with her. Tears raced down her cheeks as she feebly tried to push away from him. His hold around her waist and neck prevented her from moving. "My, my. Aren't you a pretty one? You look good enough to eat." His tongue roughly licks at her cheek.
Her mind was bombarded with fear. Her breath caught in her throat, sealing her voice away. Her hear was crashing against her chest and her body felt like it was trying to run in all different directions.
He wraps his hand tighter around her neck and moves his other hand down to between her legs, brushing against the marks her father left her this morning. She shrieks at the pain from her bruises. "A little tender, are we?" he says with an evil smirk across his face. She always has to deal with her family doing this but never a stranger. This was too much for her. "Now lets have a little fun. And who knows? You just might enjoy it." He nips at her earlobe and plays with her jean zipper.
Why was this happening? How could some total stranger come into an alley, find a girl who's just walking home, and then decide that he wanted to have sex with her even if she is under age and unwilling? Why was the world filled with such cruel men?
As he starts to undo her pants, she lets her instincts take over. She grabs onto the arm from around her neck and kicks back, hitting his kneecap and nearly breaking his leg. As he loses his stance, she flips him over her back. She turns to run as quickly as she can but he is a lot quicker and catches her around her arm. "Not a smart thing to do!" he sneers and throws Tatyana hard against the brick wall. She hits her head, causing it to bleed. He grabs her and slams her back against the wall. She could feel her blood trickle down her head as it made its way into her eye. The man pushes her head to one side and presses himself up against her body. "Don't worry, the pain won't last long." With that - and a lick of his lips - he sinks his teeth deep into her neck. The sickening sound of tearing flesh and ripping veins rung through her body. In too much pain to scream, her mind slowly began to fade. Her thoughts were slowing and depleting.
After a few seconds, the evil man pulls away, blood trailing from his lip to his chin. "What the...I've never tasted anything like this. You truly are unique," he says, more to himself than to her. After recovering from his astonishment, he sinks his teeth into her neck again - continuing to drain the life from her. This time, his hand made its way from holding her shoulder against the wall into her jeans and he rubbed her roughly as he drank. Her body became increasingly cold with the more blood he took from her. When she became too weak to push him away, his other hand moved from her hip and began to grope her breast. Even though she was so close to death, she could feel just how much pleasure this evil man was experiencing as he was killing her. He would probably even rape her after she was dead. Just the thought sickened her beyond belief.
Fortunately for Tatyana, it never came to that. Just before she lost full consciousness, she felt the man being ripped off of her and her tired body fell into the warm arms of another. They held her loosely as though not to break her.
"Is she still alive?" she hears a strange man's voice ask with concern. He sounds Irish. She heard struggling and then someone cry out in pain. From the deep, older sound of it, she guessed it to be the one who attacked her. She can then feel an arm wrap under her legs as she is being picked up and the last thing she can see are the glowing, emerald-green eyes of the man holding her. "Ja." This mysterious man's deep voice gently responds. Then, darkness. Pure darkness as warm as the man's arms. No dreams plague her as she recuperates in her slumber.