The only thing that was clear was the pounding of her heart in her ears… Lost in a swirl of dust as her parents were blown to pieces, the repercussion buffeting and knocking the young child to the ground… Feet clambered over her, disregarding and frightened… Then everything went black… Again.
Particles of dust fell into the draft of sunlight coming through the stained glass window. They danced and twirled, as if they were performing to their own invisible orchestra. When the particles dropped all the way to the table, sitting in rest on the oak, they collected and stayed.
Megan was lying lazily on the soft leather couch, watching as the particles fell slowly through the orange stream of light. It was a Saturday morning, therefore, nothing going on. Soft Bach symphonies played in the background, filling the hot, stuffy belfry with a chorus of strings.
"What to do, what to do…" She sighed softly. Her voice was that of an English lady's, a soft murmur with a slight accent, un-tinted from years of isolation. Her dark hair was loose now, cascading around her slender body like satin. It shimmered in the soft light, complimenting her white skin. The myth, yes MYTH, that vampires burned in the sun was complete bullshit. As was the whole crappy, disgusting sparkling ordeal.
The sun didn't affect vampires as harshly as some would think. It merely made Megan tired. She wondered if it affected others like her in the same way, or if it was different for everyone. This whole alone-in-the-world thing was… Well, lonely. Megan needed to meet another of her own kind, to reveal the secrets that have kept at her, eating away some of her rock hard sanity.
Rolling onto her back, she gazed up into the rafters, daydreaming about the future. Who would she meet, where will she go when she needs to get out of the church, who will she live with… Megan got up and sauntered over to the small dresser occupying one corner. Sliding the top drawer open, she pulled an off the shoulder black sweater out, and then proceeded to get jeans and shoes.
Letting her cotton nightgown fall to the floor, Megan jerked the sweater over her head and stretched the jeans over her skinny legs. Pulling the shoes on, Megan grabbed her messenger bag and her trench coat. There was a small door next to the window, barely big enough to crawl through for a normal sized human, but a little too big for her. Megan unbolted it, and stepped through onto the roof of the large church.
The sun hit her like a wave of slumber, and Megan's eyes closed. She started, pulling herself out of the welcoming sleep. Pulling it together, she skipped daintily across the rooftop, stopping at the scaffolding on the other side. It was the dark alley behind the church that she climbed up and down. Well, climbing wasn't really accurate. She jumped down from the gutter adorning the edge of the roof, and landed nimbly on the cobblestones below.
It was a six-story drop, and the impact would've almost killed any normal person. But since Megan was a vampire, the impact didn't affect her whatsoever. Straightening up, she pulled the edges of her ruffled clothing down, putting them in the right place. She checked her bag, making sure everything was in place; Notebook, check. Pens check. Laptop, check. Blood bags, check. Sunscreen, check. Everything was there.
Megan went to the end of the alley and turned the corner, walking into town. First stop, a small café on the corner. This was a piece of her regular routine, to go in, and go on her laptop. She had a job, as a bodyguard for hire. And since she was so slight, no one ever really hired her. Only the desperate ones took her, tried her out, and were over satisfied with the results.
Whenever she did get hired, she was paid in humongous amounts, allowing her to buy a few things for herself. The belfry that Megan lived in was free, nobody knew she was there. Books and CDs were a luxury that she could afford, and Megan saved whatever she didn't need. Right now, she had over a million in a Swiss bank account. Safe, protected.
Megan logged on the computer, and pulled up her website. It was just a simple ad that got out there, pulling people in to ask questions about the short 5'4" chick that could kick some serious ass. Nothing new today. No requests, no emails. No nothing. This would be a slow week, she guessed. Last week was Halloween, when wealthy parents paid for their children to be stalked and protected.
Turning the computer off, Megan stood and grabbed her bag. Walking down the street, she stopped to gaze into shop windows and watch small children hopscotch on the sidewalk. She was peering at a piece of fine French silk when a shadow in the corner of her eye caught Megan's attention.
She snapped her head up just in time to see the figure meld back into the shade. Nonchalantly, Megan sidestepped and walked away from the vender's stand. Swaying side to side, she slipped into the alleyway. Picking up good speed, Megan leaped onto the rooftops, a good mile into the suburbs.
Jumping from building to building, she clung onto her bag, and made her way back to the church. Running was exhilarating… As if going 60 miles an hour wasn't enough, everything was slowed down, creating the feeling of power. The feeling of power could engulf one, swallowing them until they'd gone mad.
Megan worked hard to keep the feeling at bay. Going mad couldn't cost her a lot, but it would probably suck. Love. The only thing that was consistent throughout the lore and myths that she read. They all said that love was the only thing that could kill a vampire. Luckily, Megan never had that problem.
She is a loner. She doesn't get out enough, doesn't socialize enough. It's not that she didn't want to, it just seemed that she couldn't. At least not right now. Maybe soon Megan would try and find someone. She sighed and opened the door, letting herself back inside the belfry attic. And gasped. Someone had broken in.
Paper was scattered everywhere, books carelessly thrown on the floor, a CD rack had been knocked over and CDs lay everywhere. Thank God that none of them were broken. Megan stepped over the upturned table, and walked over to the desk. Drawers were pulled open, spilling contents onto the floor.
She sifted through them, trying to figure out what whoever did this could want. Her hand flew to her chest, where her crucifix sat, nestled in her collarbone. Maybe there was some significance to it after all. Megan took it off, and examined the shiny metal more closely. Nothing unusual, just like every other time that she had looked at it. There was one scratch, barely visible to human eye that had appeared during the explosion.
The explosion. Were her parents murdered? Was this the reason that someone had been following her? Megan didn't know, but worried that that might be the case. Whoever killed her parents would have to be very powerful; her father was an extremely strong vampire.
Her parents were obliterated when Megan was just four. Since she was a crossbreed of vampire and human, she had soft skin, instead of the rock hard slab of stone that belonged to any other vampire. Like her father. Dark haired, tall, he was a gentleman. Her mother was a woman of high stature that was short and fine, falling in love with a respectable man of England.
For the first time since her parents had died, Megan found herself crying. Red blood tears streaked down her pale face, leaving tracks of stained sorrow. Sinking down on the couch, she laid her head on her hands, trying to make herself stop. After a while, the racking sobs quieted, and tears were gone. Megan sniffled a few more times, then got up and stretched.
A mirror was propped up on the dresser, with a basin of lavender water. She took a washcloth and dipped it in, wiping the blood and running make-up off of her face. She looked into the mirror. Maybe it was because she was young, just 19, or because she was a half-breed, but Megan could still see her reflection. A tear stained, ratty-haired, teenager looked back at her. She finished washing up, then re-applied mascara and eyeliner.
When she started to brush her hair out, Megan paused and glanced at the back of the silver hairbrush. There was an engraving that she'd never noticed. A heart, with a cross through it that was making it bleed. A cross like the one around her neck.
"Oh!" Megan gasped. She started contemplating what meaning it could possibly have. "Something to do with the church... No. Something to do with her… Not quite. Something to do with the explosion… Maybe." When Megan was brought in to identify her mother and father, she had seen a cross like this one, piercing her father's heart. It was odd that she didn't remember something that important. Anyway, there was something.
Megan had brought the necklace to a jeweler's when she first found it, and discovered that it was pure silver, and very, very sharp. She just hadn't noticed it since her skin was as hard as steel. The jeweler cut his thumb open with it and Megan had run from the shop, telling him to call her when he finished examining it.
She ran her finger over the edge now, analyzing the metal, getting the feel for the power it held. It wasn't much. She let the crucifix fall back to her collarbone. The lustrous X hit the bone with a hollow ringing sound, sending shivers down her spine. It obviously meant something to someone, or she would be getting followed.
I'm getting there people!