The Vampire's Little Girl

Prologue - London, 1600s

Bong. The night lay clear and still on the London docks.

Bong. With the first few strikes of the tall bell tower overlooking the city, a small group of ravens, formerly perched on the tower, took flight, cawing with indignation at being disturbed.

Bong. A slithering, scraping noise came from below one of the docks as a hidden gate opened, releasing a dark, sleek figure. With a rasp, the diver surfaced, blowing out air from the glowing slits in the mask. Another diver slid up behind the first.

Bong. The second diver took the large bag from the first, and waited as the first diver slipped below the water again, submerging with only a ripple to mark his passage. He swam ahead of his companion, drifting to the end of the dock.

Bong. Unnoticed by the divers, a still figure crouched at the end of dock, outfitted in a black wetsuit similar to those of the divers below. Unlike them, however, he had no helmet or air tank. Long pale-golden hair streamed freely in the night, illuminated by the moon. A pale face was poised and relaxed in one moment, ready for the moment, yet calm and still in the night.

Bong. The first diver, carrying the sack, surfaced quietly. The rasping sound of the oxygen mask filled the night, then the diver was lifted clear out of the water by the pale, dark-clad person on the pier.

Bong. The struggles of the diver were cut off as the man, who had risen from where he was kneeling, broke his neck cleanly, the snap masked by the vibrating sound of the clock tolling. Almost carelessly, the blonde, long-haired man discarded the body to the side, draped on the pier, still clutching his bag.

Bong. The second diver surfaced, looking around. The tall, pale man knocked in the helmet effortlessly, crushing the man's skull as easily as an egg. He dragged the two divers onto the dock, looking them over. When his eyes landed on the large black sack, he smiled slightly, then, plucking it from the dead man's grasp, opened it eagerly.

Bong. The man reached in and pulled out a wooden chest. He grew increasingly pleased as he looked at the many locks bolting it.

Bong. The bag shifted suddenly, wriggling as something inside of it moved. The man leaped back, releasing an inhuman growl in surprise. The bag remained still for an instant, then let out a muffled noise.

Bong. In the moonlight, the tall, pale man discovered the baby. In a waterproof bag, the little girl was wrapped in blankets, with a bulbous helmet on her head, hooked to an oxygen tank that was loose in the smaller bag she was in. Nothing but the baby and her things, in the little bag, and the chest, was inside the larger bag. The man, frustrated, picked up the chest, watching the semiconscious baby blink in the dull night. He considered just leaving her there to run out of air - it would solve more than one problem for him - but eventually, with a sigh, he picked her up.

Bong. As the moon was hidden briefly by a cloud, the docks went dark. When the moon shone down to illuminate them once again, only dancing shadows remained.