Unmasked | Book 1 in "Dark Descendants" (Editing)

Prologue

~Rose~

There was a storm going on. 

I could hear the sounds of the wind howling, screeching in the darkness, rustling dry leaves, bringing forward wet gusts of cold air. My closed eyes twitched, only vaguely aware of my surroundings.

"You're a vampire."

My body jerked upwards, back arched, like I was suddenly hit with a jolt of electricity, but my eyes remained closed. I sunk back down on the bed, a feeling of dread seeping into me, taking on the guise of a shiver trickling down my spine.

"I'm not making this up!"

I jolted awake, gasping a mouthful of cold air that immediately dried out my throat. I coughed myself into complete consciousness and sat upright. A bead of sweat rolled down my cold cheek and my head was pounding.

I dug my hands in my damp hair, pressing my cold palms to my temples. I could feel my pulse increasing rapidly. I couldn't stop it this time. I never could.

Why, oh why did I have to re-open old wounds like this?

"This is because of fate, you can't change this."

"Do you really expect me to believe that?!"

I whimpered and squeezed my eyes shut, breathing heavily. I tried to shake away the memories in vain, like the water a dog would shake from it's fur.

The last moment you spend with your family should be filled with pained smiles, heart-wrenching tears. You try to make the most out of it.

But I messed up. The last moment I spent with mine was spent fighting. Fighting over what I was, and what they were. I wrongfully accused my mother as also being a vampire.

"Rose, come back here!"

I swallowed back my sobs, very close to breaking down.

Vampires don't age, but every year on their death anniversary the memories keep crashing down on me, waking me up at the ungodly hours of night and taking the form of mental break-downs. 

I missed them; I missed my full-blooded vampire dad's firm yet slightly humorous blue eyes, his boyish smile, the look about him that made him seem like he was my brother and not my father.

And I missed my mother; her kind, gentle green eyes always comforted me without her having to say a word. I had inherited her brown hair and her fighting attitude. She had given my aunt and I matching sapphire and silver necklaces, and I cherished mine ever since that horrible day.

I'd do anything to take it back but...

"You can't change the past." I whispered out loud, my vision blurry with unshed tears. I almost screamed in hopelessness.

"Please, Rosie."

I pushed myself off the bed and went into the bathroom, not bothering to turn the lights on. I looked at my reflection.

My thigh-long hair was messy and damp with sweat. Brown doe eyes stared back at me, empty and haunted.

Frustration rose within me as I noticed, even then, that I still looked very attractive. It was one of the side effects of being a vampire, and a reminder that I was a dead monster.

I exited the bathroom and lifted the window sash. I had no idea where I was going, nor what to do. I just wanted to get out there.

It was four thirty in the morning and still dark outside. I somehow found myself in the cemetery, hand on the gate of the entrance and staring out blankly at the stones poking out from the ground.