Fame&Pain

Chapter 4

I’m being hunted. Like some kind of animal and then used for a power craving master plan that will help cause an apocalypse. The women that I thought was my mother had no blood relation to me at all, she was a stranger to my life. But I couldn't blame her she never knew herself so the truth had to stay within these walls.

I just wanted normality restored.

“He doesn’t know what you are does he?” My eyes widened, hoping he wouldn’t say anything. Ian could not know he’d hate me.  

“What’s he talking about?”

“She’s not what you think she is, boy.” 

Ian's father burst through the door just in time with a set of dusty books in his hand, he lit some candles around the demon, then began to speak at a fast pace in a language that sounded like ancient Italian or Latin. It screamed out from the depths of his soul trapped in the body of Brandon. Then a whirling black hole appeared above our heads, the candles flickered vigorously we nearly lost our step but I held on to the shelf. Eerie sounds echoed through the walls, a sudden black smoke came out of Brandon’s mouth, sucked up by the black hole and everything returned to silence.

Brandon opened his eyes slowly then searched the room for a familiar face. I carefully stepped over the threshold, minding the ruined candles and untied him.

Just before we left I looked back to see if Ian was around, a little bit of me died when he wasn’t, I actually thought we had something like a bound or whatever all guys are the same.

Suck it up Emma, because the future holds much worse things to come.

I put on a fake smile feeling him look at me wide eyed with doubt it wasn't hard to guess what he wanted to ask me.

"How did I end up in Ian's house?"

"You were feeling ill so we took you over to Ian's for some rest."  

"Oh, I see they don't tidy much since the living room was a mess and them weird things they seriously need a makeover!"

I just nodded starring at the pavement in front of me; I needed to go back the tension of waiting until tomorrow to talk to him was unbearable, but the little voice in my said I shouldn’t and it always won.

By the time I got home (although it didn’t seem like home anymore) I jus lay on the bed re-thinking everything again. Why did dad sacrifice his life for mine? Knowing everything was going to turn out pear shaped because no one can change the fact that I’m Dhamphir it’s running in my blood. The thought creped me out. Did I even have a real mother? There were so many questions circulating my mind, keeping me awake all night so I got up, stretched on the nearest cardigan I could grab in the dark and went down to the basement where all of dad’s things were kept.

I trod down the creaky wooden steps as the single light bulb struggled to flick on. I sat there raiding through dad’s books, pictures of him before he became a vampire, old clothes which still smelt of him and dried blood. I threw that aside and spotted another yellowing box tucked underneath my old toys that no one thought to throw away.

Was that always there?

I tore through the cardboard, glancing behind me as if something was going to jump out at me then sifted through more books until I found a bunch that looked out of place against the rest, too new and untouched. I flicked through a couple pages they’re were notes on vampires, lycans, hell hounds, werewolves, nosferatu and many other supernatural creatures it could teach me everything I would need to know about them, this way I could finish dad’s job for him and hunt down his murderer. Gleaming underneath the books there were dad’s 49 caliber, a bunch of stakes, throwing stars, laminae (blades specially made to kill lycans, hell hounds, nosfuratu, shape-shifters so pretty much everything.) I hid everything under a plank on the bottom shelf of my wardrobe where no one would ever think they were.