Abandoned

Night

In some way, there is part of me that craves to know what my life used to be like before I was turned into a vampire in the first place. The details of my childhood are hazy in my memory: I recall that I was born in Romania, that my family moved to England when I was about five years old, and that a mysterious man always followed us around. The man's name was Alaric Zalatoris, and he was cruel and narcissistic.

    I believe that my father's wealth may have led him to have enemies; some of whom he may not have been aware of; some of whom he may not have even been aware of. Alaric was one of those vengeful enemies who lived in the world of vengeful enemies. Apparently, he and my father had a falling out when he was my father's business partner, so he parted ways with him. I don't remember anything after that. It's all a blur to me now.

    Wandering through London, I encountered the rougher side of the city. There was no one who dared venture into the slums. It was common for people with cruel intentions to roam the streets of the city at night and would do anything to steal from the innocent residents.

     I needed blood right away because my life depended on it. My instincts told me that the rat blood would not be able to keep me alive for long, and that it would probably kill me as well. My identity was concealed by the red cloak I wore over my hair. In addition, I had also stolen a black dress from a shop outside of town on the outskirts of the city. I had bright red eyes, and I knew I had to keep my identity as a vampire a secret in order to avoid death if the wrong person learned my identity.

As I sat at the far end of the tavern, I observed people going about their business. There was no awareness on the part of the humans that danger was approaching. I had a premonition that one of my kind would enter the tavern, and I was always correct when it came to my predictions. I had the ability to read people and identify them for who they really were.

A tall man wore an ebony black suit and cloak. As with me, he had bright red eyes, but his were a deeper red, like the color of blood. A curtain of long black hair framed his pale white face. The unsuspecting humans would be subjected to his wrath as he appeared dangerous.

We always kept to ourselves for a reason, so I did not recognize the vampire. The majority of vampires are solitary creatures for their own protection, and ever since my sire abandoned me, I have been one of those vampires who prefer to live alone.

The vampire made his way into the tavern, his red eyes fixed on something. His expression was unclear, but it seemed lethal. Unexpectedly, he made his way to where I sat.

"Hello, madam." he said politely, sitting beside me. "Um... hi?" I responded in confusion. I was unsure why he was speaking to me. After focusing his red eyes upon mine, the vampire grinned, "I knew it, you are one of us." "What made you figure that out?" I inquired with sarcasm. Simply looking at me should have been enough to tell. "I just wanted to be sure, because from a distance you looked so ordinary, why is that?" he reached out and caressed my face. He creepily inhaled and then exhaled, "You're not a full vampire yet, fledgling." The vampire hissed at first, but then he gazed at me with pity, "Has your sire not taught you anything?" "No, he abandoned me." I replied craning my neck to turn away from him.

After staring at me for an uncomfortable length of time, he said, "That is unheard of, what kind of monster would abandon his fledgling?"

I answered, "Someone who wanted to harm me back when I was human." "Is your sire Alaric Zalatoris?" the vampire's demeanor changed from invasive to protective of me as his anger grew. "Yes." I answered, shuddering at the name.

"It surprised me he would take in a fledgling knowing how cruel and unfeeling he is." the vampire told me. 

"So you know of him?" my eyes were wide with shock. "I do, he ruined my family's life," his red eyes were full of anger and vengeance. "He ruined mine as well," I opened up to him. This was unlike me to open up to a virtual stranger, but we were dealing with a common enemy.

"What's your name?" I asked, not breaking eye contact with him. "Dante Black, what's your name?" he kissed my hand in a gentlemanlike manner. "Andreanna Dashkov."