Hybrid: The Mark

The Hybrid

The sun shone on Sirah's face, stirring her up from her sleep. Her eyes opened directly to the sun but her eyes could bear the sun which was strange for her because she never noticed it. She rose slowly, wincing and sat up looking around.

She heard noises. Close to her. Right in front of the bushes.

Sirah peered from the bushes and saw six hooded figures, roaming around with the sun shining on them rather differently. Their hooded cloak gleamed against the dull forest.

Warlocks.

'Fate,' Her mind rang 'Of all the people in the world, I have to face them.'

Sirah clenched her fingers around her knife and concentrated on breathing silently. One of the hooded figures stopped right in front of her, facing the bushes. Her breath hitched. Her heart beating against her chest. She sighed a relief when the figure walked away from the bushes and stood with its companions.

One of the hooded figures, instantly uncovered a long blade shining brightly against the sun. A strangled scream immediately let loose from Sirah. The figures snapped their attention to the bushes. She sank back to the ground. One of them slowly approached the bushes. She clutched her knife strongly making her fingers go numb. Sirah didn't wait for the figure to catch her and dashed through the bushes, stumbling down on the path. Her eyes focused on the cloaked people staring right at her. She jumped to her feet when one of them stepped forward. The figure pushed its cloak back, revealing its face. A girl. Her face drawn on to a smirk when she looked at Sirah. The girl raise her hand, palm facing at Sirah. She stilled her hands until the smirk grew wider on her face. Sirah started to panic.

" A Vampire." The girl looked at her as if she was a meal. "How interesting."

Sirah backed away from her slowly when the girl's smirk settled for a scowl.

"Catch her."

"NO!" Sirah turned to run.

Two figures bolted towards her, their fingers locking around her arms. A scream left her when pain unfurled in her arms. The figures clenched her strongly leaving her to scream again. The knife fell from her hands. Sirah managed to get away from them until the girl gripped the sleeve of her gown, shredding it apart. The figures enclosed around her, holding her again. Sirah continued to shriek in hope for someone to help her. She felt helpless through pain.

"Take her ring off."

The figures snatched for her hands. Panic rose in her chest. She was going to die. Sirah gripped her hands away from them when one of the figures clenched her bare arm, making her shriek in pain again. The glove was ripped from her hands. The ring glimmering like pure blood. Sirah screamed shouts for them to stop but the girl pried the ring off her finger. She was pushed to the ground.

"Stop!"

Everyone stood still. The girl turned around to face another cloaked figure. Sirah's eyes gazed at the cloaked person. Tall and looked stronger than the others.

"What are you doing, Carlyle?" The figure spoke. It was a boy.

"She's a Vampire." The girl whose name was Carlyle pointed towards Sirah. Sirah got on her feet, backing away when she bumped into one of the figures standing behind her.

"Not anymore." The figure who was a girl, spoke.

Carlyle gleamed at the figures standing around her when she stepped away from Sirah, letting the sun's rays fall directly on Sirah. Sirah's hands immediately shot up to her face. She breathed through her fear of death, stumbling back on to the ground. Her eyes shot up to the cloaked figures beside her, especially to the one who stopped them. There was silence. Sirah couldn't feel the sun etching in her skin. She examined her hands for signs of burning but there were none. Carlyle stepped in front of Sirah.

"What is happening? " She pulled Sirah's hands to look at it.

"What do you mean?" The figure who stopped Carlyle, stepped in.

"There are no marks. Every Vampire burns in the sun! I am certain that she is a Vampire."

Sirah dashed for her knife on the ground and pointed it at them.

"Wait!" Carlyle surrendered and looked frantically at the boy. The boy pushed his hood back, revealing himself to Sirah. His hair brushed back on his forehead. The boy raised his hands and cautiously looked at Sirah.

"My name is Malkov. We don't want to hurt you. We are just weary travelers." His tone smoothed down.

"Weary as in going around and killing people?" Sirah pointed the knife at him.

Malkov's eyes focused on Sirah.

"Are those marks ?" Malkov indicated to her arms.

"Get away from me." Sirah stepped forward her knife pointed straight at him.

"Are you marked? " Malkov looked at her.

"I said get away from me." Sirah didn't wait for him to respond. She pushed him and ran away. Sirah ran until she found herself at a clear distance from them. Sirah hid behind a tree and breathed relief. Her thoughts began to wander.

'Are you marked?'

'What did he mean by that?'

Instinctively, Sirah looked at her arms. The scars were now a deep blue, contrasting against her skin. The scars looked like inked skin. Sirah's hands jumped to the scarf she had wrapped around her neck. She pulled it off. Her neck was etched with scars in dark purple. She tried touching it but instantly pulled away her hands when it started sending pain through her. Sirah had the pain memorized. It didn't bother her unless it was touched. Her arms started throbbing where the warlocks had touched her. Sirah made her way far away into the forest to avoid running into them again.

'They are not going to get away with it the next time.'  She thought.  'I'll stop them.'

A scowl settled on her face as Sirah glanced back at the forest, her grip on her knife.