The real world

"Each and every snowflake is much like each and every person. From far away, they are nothing more than the same little things littering the ground. Yet, as soon as you get close enough you begin to see the intricate lines and patterns that are used that make up each individual. And every pattern, every line is different. No two are the same." Leo's voice was low and sullen. He knew that I was to young to fully grasp what he was saying, but what he said that night has always stuck with me. Even as I looked over my shoulder to witness the growing blanket of red that was staining the contrasting white of the snow. Being only three years old, I didn't quite realize the horror that I was exposed to. I didn't how it would effect me, that it would seriously mess me up as I grew older. At that moment, there was just two dead bodies of the people I had become accustomed to calling "Mom" and "Dad" and this man who had managed to keep me alive. 

when he got my parents out they were alive, but he couldn't stop the bleeding and the storm was holding up the ambulance. Needless to say, I had my own injuries but they were much less life threatening. 

Leo felt obligated to take me in that night, to atone for the fact that he couldn't save my parents. I'm not sure why.

*******************

I hung low, under the protruding white windowsill. Have to admit, this is a nice house. Tardis blue wooden panels on the outside, with white trimmings and shutters. I could go for a house like this.

Since my prey is more active at night and I decided to hunt said prey this night, I opted for my midnight black puma vest and black samurai shorts from verillas.

Muffled shuffling and the sound of chains dragging across linoleum floors resounds through the forest lined estate. The silver Colt MEU glinted in the milky moonlight, I quickly tried to get it away from the light just in case. 

The shutters burst open. It growls above me, hot smelly drool drips thickly onto my black leather moto boots. Gross. My gun was already cocked, three pure iron knives, and one silver, were hidden around my body and my lock picking kit was in my back pocket. 

Only three silver bullets. That's all I had. Shit, if this asshole hasn't gotten away from me last time I'd have all ten. I couldn't keep the sneer of my face. It was breathing, heavily, a few times before it gave up and went back inside. 

Poor chick, she isn't gonna sleep for the rest of her life. Being attacked by a shapeshifter? That's some horror movie shit right there. 

Cautiously, I inch the window open. Idiot didn't bother locking it. Cocky son of a- 

A scream cuts my thought short and I go into auto-hunter. Without even thinking about it, my legs flip over the widow sill I was just hiding under. This brings me right into a hall lined with family photos. 

Hugging the wall making my way towards, what I assume to be the kitchen. My ears detect nothing. Strange, maybe he killed--

"HOLY SHIT!" I scream as a hand juts out and grabs me around my neck. A warm body drags me backwards while I struggle, cursing at it.

"Get your filthy, grubby hands off me, Leather face." My elbow draws forward, with a jerk, jabs back into its stomach as I growl.

A split second is all I need. Old Snakey, loosens his grip which gives me enough leeway to spin around and flip the tables.

"What have you done with the girl?"I hiss, holding a pure iron knife up against it's neck. It's skin is peeling. Gross, it's changing. The creature does nothing but sneer, dammit I've lost my gun luckily my knife was close enough to get quickly. Since this piss puddle doesn't want to talk, I suppose I'll just have to carve it out of him.