Well after a long and painful time, I finally have the final copy of "Ayame's Story". Thanks to all those who have read the previous copies of it, I hope you like this version of it just as much, or even better. I'll try to update as much as I can, but due to just moving into a new place, I have no internet so I can only update when I'm at work or at my mother's. So please read, enjoy, and of coarse review even those of you who are not a member of this site. Now enough from me, enjoy the story.

A warning to all potential thieves, this work is copyright 2011 Kassandra Duric*****Ayame's Story is completely the work of Kassandra Duric, to reproduce under any other name is theft!****

Prologue

Ayame had left her bags with the horses, too tired to bother carrying them inside. Her parents would have gone to bed hours ago as well as Shelua, and Shelua's children so she was not surprised that she found the house dark. As she walked in the house, she fumbled in the dark to find the bronze candleholder that her parents always left on the table by the door. She struck a match to light the little stub of a candle that remained. She blew out the match and straightened herself to her full height, having bent over to ensure the wick lit. The light from the candle brought Ayame's eyes to the floor that was covered in blood. She frantically looked about the main floor, to find that the blood was also splattered on the plain log walls.

The nineteen-year-old had just gotten home from a week spent at her older sister, Elizabeth's house. Elizabeth had sent one of her older sons over with a letter asking their mother to come deliver her baby since their family could not afford a midwife. Shelua was the only one of Ayame's siblings to marry into money and who could possibly think of paying for such things. Ayame's parents also could not afford to help their daughter out as they were a farm family and only made enough to sustain themselves and their immediate family. While their mother was Elizabeth's first choice, she was too ill with what they assumed to be the flu since they could not afford a doctor to tell them otherwise. The next best choice would have been Shelua, but she was too busy trying to care for her six month old child who had a case of the chickenpox. So, Ayame was sent over in their place Ayame's mother was the local medicine woman in their small little village and had taught her daughters a little bit about every aspect of healing, and each of them had had their turn assisting in the delivering of a baby. Though all Ayame had ever done was wash the infant and cut the cord after birth, she was still able to help her sister give birth to a healthy baby girl, whom Elizabeth had named Mellony after their grandmother from her father's side.

She had come home with the happy news for her family, but was quickly brought out of her happy calm when she saw the blood everywhere. She gasped at the sight and quickly hung her white shawl on the hook beside the door, now in a hurry to find her family members and praying to the Mother Mary that they were just in bed like she had previously assumed. She did not want to think about the blood on the floor and what it could mean, but her slightly hysterical mind told her there was a perfectly logical explanation for it, she just had to find someone to explain it to her. The blood trail led her up the wooden stairs; she braced herself against the railing, to prevent any shaking and carried the candle in her other hand.

"Shelua? Mother? Father?" Ayame called in a shaky voice as she walked up to the second floor where their bedrooms were. She stopped in front of Shelua's dark bedroom, placing the candle on the table outside the bedroom, and looked in to see a tall silhouette in front of the window. She could not tell if it was a man or a woman, though she could tell it was not a member of her family; this person was far too thin and sickly.

"What are you doing here? Get out of my house!" she ordered. She grabbed the gun off of the table beside the candleholder she just put down, and aimed it at the figure. Her father made a habit of dropping his rifle on the table after he was done hunting for the week. Her mother hated it because she was always afraid that Shelua's youngest boy, a three year old who got his sticky fingers on everything he possibly could, would get a hold of it. Shelua had recently moved back in with the family with her three sons -the three year old, a six year old, and a ten year old- and her infant daughter since her husband had been killed in a hunting accident three weeks earlier. Her husband had left nothing to her other than a small monthly allowance. All his money instead, was to be split equally to the children he claimed as his own, her three sons, when they came of age. His house was to be given to his oldest son, but until then, it and all of the contents inside, except for Shelua's, were to be kept safely within his family.

The silhouetted figure let out an evil laugh, sending shivers down her spine. "Those little things won't hurt me, my dear…Ayame."

"What do you want? How do you know my name?" Her body started to shake as if a cool breeze had come through the house, even though the night was hot and humid.

"I want to kill you, just as I have done to your family." He gave a sick and disturbing laugh, as if something about murdering the girl's family was humorous.

Ayame shook her head. "No…please do not. I…I will do anything…just do not kill me." She closed her eyes as the shock began to sink in, and continued to beg. "Please…" Her body began to tremble, causing the gun in her hands to shake to the point that she dropped it with a loud clatter against the wooden floorboards. She opened her eyes again, but the figure was gone. Where did he go? She looked around frantically.

"Looking for someone?" a voice asked from behind her, as if he were holding back insane laughter. Even before he finished speaking, he had wrapped an arm across her chest, pinning her arms to her sides, and his other arm wrapped firmly around her waist, holding her body against his chest. He breathed down her neck and back up to her ear before she heard the faintest of whispers, "You will do…anything?"

She felt the slight dampness of a tongue on her neck. Her skin prickled with goose bumps and she began to jerk against his hold, attempting to get free. Her stomach turned in disgust and she forced herself to swallow the bile that was slowly creeping up her throat as his grip tightened on her waist and arms.

Ayame gasped. "Yes, anything…"

"Then consider yourself my servant," the man said before he sank his teeth into her neck and began to drink her blood.

Ayame closed her eyes and winced as pain shot through her body, the blood rapidly draining from her. She felt a sharp pain in her head, followed by a lightheaded feeling. Her knees began to feel like jelly, causing them to buckle beneath her, though he continued to hold her up with his arms. Her head fell back against his shoulder, and everything started to spin. Her vision quickly went fuzzy so everything in the room was spinning in an unfocused way. She looked out the window to the full moon that was high in the sky. Soon, everything went black.

A warning to all potential thieves, this work is copyright 2011 Kassandra Duric *****Ayame's Story is completely the work of Kassandra Duric, to reproduce under any other name is theft!****